“No. But I had to know, I had to hear it from you,” Arturo replied. “I’m sorry, Pete. Really. But Hero is everything to me. If I had to give up my business, every penny of my money to keep her safe, I would. I had to ask, my friend, because we’re running out of ideas as to who is threatening her. Her sister is missing, and the police have no leads. Nothing. We are at our wit’s end.”
“I understand that.” Peter’s tone was softer now, understanding. He sat back down. “Look, I’m going to do everything I can to help you find this asshole, Turo, but looking at the people who you’re closest to won’t help here.” He gave a wry smile. “Not even George. Do you really think he has the balls or the intelligence to pull this thing off?”
Arturo half-smiled. “No. I’m just desperate. He calls her, you know, the killer, and he tells her what he’s going to do to her, how he’s going to kill her. The most depraved stuff. She’s so strong, Pete, but I’m scared he’ll get to her.”
“We won’t let that happen. No psycho is going to kill her, Turo, I promise.” Peter sighed. “We should go see your uncle. He has people at the highest echelons of government who might be able to help.”
“We will…but not tonight. Tonight…Peter, I’m driving to Milan, and Hero and I are going to City Hall. We’re going to get married. Officially. Legally.”
Peter didn’t argue for once, and Arturo went on, “It’s just something we have to do for ourselves. Some kind of sanity in the midst of this craziness.”
His old friend cracked a slight smile. “Marrying a woman you’ve known what, a month, maybe? Maybe that doesn’t qualify as sanity…”
Arturo grinned. “Fair point. She makes me crazy in the best possible way. So, she and I will get married, and then we’ll talk to my uncle tomorrow.”
Peter nodded. “I’ll call him and ask him to get his people onto Imelda’s case tonight, and we’ll go see him in the morning.”
In the car on the way to Milan, Arturo thought about his conversation with Peter. He believed his friend when he said he would never hurt Hero…but there was still something niggling at the back of his mind. “What is it?” He murmured to himself as he parked the car outside the American Consulate.
His mind cleared though the instant he saw her walking down the steps to meet him. Hero’s smile was wide, her eyes shining, and his heart began to beat out of his chest. Did she have something to tell him?
He got out and went to her. “What is it?”
Hero had tears in her eyes as she smiled at him. “It’s Imelda. They’ve found her.”
Chapter Twenty-Four
“Run that by me again.” Arturo was trying to make sense of what Hero was telling him as they drove to City Hall.
Imelda was safe…in Rome, Hero told him, and in fact, had never been abducted. On a whim, she had decided to take the train from Milan to Rome to spend a week or so ‘off-grid.’
“She was really annoyed when she found out we’d all been looking for her. She said something to the effect of ‘I’m a thirty-eight-year-old woman, and I can do what I like.’ Apparently, the police who went to where she was staying were terrified of her.”
“And she didn’t think to call you?”
“She was pissed at me.”
“Still.”
Hero gave a soft laugh. “Who cares? She’s safe. God, Turo, I feel a billion times lighter.”
He took her hand. “It’s fantastic news. So, we know your tormentor was bluffing now.”
“But he knew she was missing, or at least that we thought she was missing. Which means…”
Arturo cursed. “It’s someone close to us.”
“Yup. Back to square one.”
“Damn it.”
Hero sighed. “Look, now that Imelda is safe, I feel a lot more confident in us getting to the bottom of this, and not only that, but now I can really enjoy this moment with you. We’re getting married, Turo!”
Arturo looked at the woman he loved with all his heart and smiled. “You bet we are.”
Hero changed into her wedding dress in the bathroom at City Hall, brushing out her hair and reapplying some lip gloss. She loved the simplicity of this whole thing. It didn’t matter if she didn’t have a big meringue dress or a fancy reception party. The only thing that mattered was Arturo and their love.
They waited their turn, hand-in-hand. Arturo pressed his lips to hers. “You look beautiful, cara mia…and later, I’ll show you just how beautiful.”
Hero smiled. “I can’t wait.”
They were married in less than fifteen minutes and afterward, they kissed each other like it was their last time.
Hero finally broke away, laughing. “I need to breathe, hubby.”
Arturo swept her up into his arms. “I had the foresight to book us a suite…I knew that after you became my wife, I wouldn’t have the patience to drive us back to Como without having you first.”
“You can have me all night long,” Hero whispered in his ear. “For the rest of our lives. God, I love you so much, Arturo Bachi.”
The white dress was on the floor seconds after they’d entered the suite, and now Arturo was caressing every part of her body, slowly, with obvious relish. He sucked on her nipples until they were rock-hard, then trailed his lips down to her belly, kissing the soft rise of it, rimming her navel with his tongue.
Then his mouth was on her sex as he lifted her thighs apart, hooking her knees over his shoulders. His tongue dipped deep into her cunt, tasting her honey, flicked around her clit until she was gasping and begging him to let her taste him, too.
He moved around so she could take his cock into her mouth and felt a warm rush of pleasure as her lips closed around him. The feeling of her tongue tracing around the sensitive tip of his cock was maddeningly exciting, her hands gently massaged his balls, then stroked his inner thighs as she hollowed out her cheeks to suck him. He came as he felt her tense, shooting into her mouth as she milked him, feeling her cunt tremble and contract with her own climax. God, she was beautiful, and yet he still couldn’t believe she was his now—his entirely.
He moved around to kiss her mouth, stroking his hand down her body, feeling the lush curves of her, his hand coming to rest on her soft belly, splaying his long fingers out over it, imagining it rounded and swollen with his child.
Hero looked at him with shining eyes, and he knew she was feeling the same thing. “Shall we?”
Hero smiled, and as he moved his body on top of hers, her soft skin against his, she wrapped her legs around his waist and ground her damp sex against his burgeoning cock. “Fuck me, Turo…put your seed deep in me.”
His cock was so hard and so heavy that it bobbed under its own weight against his belly, and when he notched it into the entrance of her cunt, he needed no help to thrust deep inside her. Feeling her vaginal muscles contract around it as he moved in and out of her, they both watched the movement, the way the thick length pulled in and out of her pink, swollen cunt.
“Look at us,” he murmured, “we’re beautiful.”
Hero was breathless as they fucked, both of them entranced by the sight of their bodies moving together. When she came, she cried out his name, arching her back, her belly pressed against his as it trembled and undulated against him. Arturo groaned long and low as his cock shot the precious seed deep into her.
Finally, they collapsed together, laughing and panting for air. “I’ll never get tired of this.”
“Never.”
They made love long into the night, ordering champagne at three a.m., which Arturo proceeded to spray all over her body. He licked every drop off of her, making her giggle and gasp with pleasure.
It was four a.m. before they fell asleep, wrapped in each other. At five, Arturo got up to use the bathroom, reluctantly leaving the warmth of her arms. As he flushed the toilet and washed his hands, he heard something—a strange noise he couldn’t place. He padded back into the bedroom and for a moment, stood, confused. Hero was in bed, the sheet pushed down past her
hips. Laying on her back, she was breathing, but it wasn’t natural breathing. She was gasping for air, gasping for…oh, God, no…his gaze drifted lower to where her hands were clasped over her belly…and blood bubbled up from between her fingers.
“No, no, no…” He dashed to her, lifting her hands to find her belly destroyed by stab wounds. This couldn’t be happening…no…Hero looked at him, confusion and betrayal in her eyes.
“You didn’t save me, you promised to save me…” Then she gasped again, and her body jerked as if some invisible knife was being plunged into her again and again. Fresh wounds appeared in her soft belly…and he knew.
This isn’t real…this isn’t real…wake up. Wake up!
“Turo! Wake up! You’re hurting me, wake up!”
Arturo opened his eyes to find himself on top of her, crushing her with his weight, his hands pressing down on her uninjured belly to stop the imaginary blood. He rolled off of her immediately. “God, I’m sorry, I’m sorry…are you okay?”
Hero was panting for air but nodded, her eyes large and frightened. “You were dreaming…then you just started to press down on me…I couldn’t breathe.”
He gathered her to him. “God, I’m so sorry, so sorry…I thought…I saw…” He couldn’t say the words. Hero stroked his damp, dark curls away from his face, herself a lot calmer now.
“Was I dead?” Her voice was steady, and he nodded.
“You were dying,” he amended, “and there was so much blood. I couldn’t stop it. Couldn’t stop it. Mio Dio…”
“Ssh, it’s okay.” She pressed her lips to his temple. “I’m perfectly fine; it was just a dream.”
“A nightmare.”
“A nightmare is all it was. Turo, Turo, Turo…” The way she whispered his name to comfort him was a balm on his frazzled nerves. He wrapped his arms around her.
“Hero, my love, my wife…we’re going to make this right. I’m going to make this all go away.”
She smiled at him, so lovely, the moonlight making her skin glow, her lips soft against his. “We’re going to get through this, I swear we will. I love you.”
“Ti amo, il mia amore. Ti amo.”
Outside of the hotel, he waited, the blacked-out windows of his car making his surveillance easy. He knew what suite they were in—the penthouse. Arturo would settle for nothing less on his wedding night. So, they were married. It made no difference to his plan. Hero would be dead, and Arturo would be on his knees, utterly destroyed.
He wondered if they had any inkling that they had less than twenty-four hours left before they were ripped apart forever.
Chapter Twenty-Five
“It’s important that no one here or in Como knows you’re safe and well in Rome,” Arturo told Hero’s adoptive sister the next morning. They were sitting in the American Consulate’s meeting room on a conference call with Imelda, her lawyer, and the people from the Consulate. “If we can use the lie of your kidnapping to lure the killer out, all the better. He’s going to use it, so we should, too. He’ll try and force Hero to go to him to exchange for your safety—and we’re going to let him think he’s succeeded.”
“That sounds dangerous to me,” Imelda said sharply. “Hero, you’re not going through with this, are you?”
“Of course I am, but I’ll be perfectly safe. He thinks I’ll be so damn worried about you that I will do whatever he says. Of course, I’ll be wearing a wire and have a weapon of my own, and the police and Arturo will be there as soon as he takes me.”
“I don’t like this.”
“Neither do I, Melly,” Arturo said, “but it’s the quickest, most efficient way to smoke him—or her—out.”
“By using my baby sister as bait?”
Hero felt a rush of love towards Imelda. “Your baby sister?”
Imelda snorted, covering her slip. “You know what I mean.”
“I love you, too,” Hero said softly. “I would have died if anything had happened to you.”
There was silence for a long moment. “Like I will if anything happens to you,” Imelda said gently. “Please, Hero…there must be another way.”
“I can’t go on living like this,” Hero said, “this is the quickest way. I promise you, Melly, I’m going to fight for this life. For my life.”
There was a strangled sob at the end of the line, and Hero felt her eyes fill with tears. Arturo rubbed her back. “Melly,” he said, his own voice breaking slightly. “I swear to you, in a few months, we’ll all be together, and you’ll be playing with your new nieces and nephews, and all of this will be over.”
“You’re not…?”
“Not yet.” Hero chuckled softly. “Turo was just painting a picture.”
Another silence. “I like that picture.”
“We do, too. Now, the consulate is going to send over some people to protect you while this goes down. No, don’t argue,” Arturo told his sister-in-law, “it’s just a precaution in case this psycho isn’t working alone.”
“Is that likely?”
“Anything goes.”
“Christ. Just…promise me you’ll stay alive, Hero. Make her promise, Turo.”
“Oh, I have, and I will again. Over and over, Melly, I guarantee that.”
After they’d disconnected from Imelda, the Consulate people and the police went through everything again. Hero, wired and protected, would return to Como alone and pretend she was packing her things to leave. She would make her presence known every place she was connected with: the Patrizzi, Villa Charlotte, the art store, their favorite restaurants. She would carry the burner phone the killer called her on and answer his calls, telling him she was ready to exchange herself for Imelda.
And then they would wait. Arturo would return to Como separately, go through with his plan to visit his uncle with Peter. The police had agreed with Arturo—it was someone who knew them. “We’ll have eyes on Galiano, the contractors at the Patrizzi, your friend at the art store…I’m sorry, but we really cannot trust anyone with your life except the people in this room. Even your uncle, I’m sorry to say.”
Arturo nodded grimly. “I understand.”
Hero and Arturo went back to their hotel to get their things before the separate cars picked them up. They held each other for a long time. “The worst part is waiting for him to make his move,” Hero said. “If we could know this would all be over by the end of today, we could at least…”
“If you use the words ‘say goodbye properly’…” Arturo closed his eyes, his face creasing with pain. Hero took his face in her hands.
“I wasn’t going to say that. I was going to say ‘we could start our married life properly.’ Happily. It’s going to be okay, I promise you that.”
But they both knew she couldn’t know that for sure.
“The cars will be here in an hour,” Arturo stroked her face, “let’s not waste a moment of this time now.”
Just in case…
Their lovemaking was more intense that afternoon, as if they both recognized that it might be their last if all the planning went awry. As they moved together, Hero gazed at him and asked the question they both were thinking. “Do you think we have any idea what we’re getting into?”
Arturo shook his head. “I’m not even sure I know what the hell is going on or even why this is happening. All I know is…I can’t lose you.”
“I feel the same.”
He stopped moving for a second. “Promise me that if it comes to it, if things get crazy, you’ll do everything or anything to stay alive. Promise me.”
“I promise.”
“Even if it means…offering yourself…God, I can’t even…” Pain crossed Arturo’s face as he faltered.
“I know.” She nodded. “Anything goes. But I’ll kill him before I let that happen.”
Arturo winced again but nodded. “Do what you have to do, baby. I swear, we’ll get through this.”
He just hoped he was telling the truth.
The car pulled up outside the hotel in C
omo and dragging a deep breath into her lungs, Hero stepped out. To her relief, she got to her room without incident. Without her personal protection—her Gaudio—in the next room, she felt exposed and vulnerable.
She stripped off and went to shower, feeling the hot water easing her tense muscles. Dressing in jeans and T-shirt, she went into the living room to dry her hair.
“I hear congratulations are in order.”
Hero whirled around with a gasp. George Galiano was sitting in one of the easy chairs. He smiled at her, but there was no warmth in it. He leaned forward. “Signora Bachi.”
Hero’s chin lifted. “What the hell do you think you're doing in here? How dare you invade my privacy like this?”
George smiled. “I have friends in this hotel. And everywhere in this town. Word travels fast. So, your little fake break-up was to what? Play me? Humiliate me?”
“Get out.”
He moved too fast for her even to cry out. He slammed her against the window, one hand on her throat, one clamped over her mouth. Hero smelled liquor on his breath and saw the dangerous glint in his eye.
“I just came here to get what you owe me, Hero.”
She bit his hand and he yelled, slapping her. “Go fuck yourself, George. I don’t owe you a thing.”
She pushed him away and darted around him, but he lunged for her, dragging her to the carpet and pushing up her shirt. He saw the wire immediately. “What the fuck is this?”
He yanked it off her, and Hero kicked out at him, catching him in the balls. Where the hell was her back up? Why weren’t they busting down the door?
George grabbed her wrists as she struggled beneath him. “Stop fighting me, Hero, and this won’t be unpleasant.”
“You fucker…it was you? The whole time? Threatening my life?”
George snorted. “Why would I want to kill such a prime piece of ass like you, Hero? No, I just want to be buried deep in your perfect little cunt. Why should Bachi get all the ass around her? Now, I get to sample the goods.”
Under Her Skin Page 13