by Day Leclaire
“And I’ll get that fire going.”
He snatched up a pullover sweater, tugging it over his head on his way out of the room. She couldn’t help wondering why he resisted the idea of The Inferno so hard. Maybe it was just his levelheaded, no-nonsense side coming to the fore.
Lucia slowly dressed, grateful that whoever had obtained clothes for her had gone with long-sleeved layers. All the while, she continued to mull over the various possibilities for why Ty continued to resist The Inferno. Clearly, he shared her brother’s practical nature.
Gabe never would have believed in The Inferno if he hadn’t felt the burn when he’d first touched his wife, Kat. He’d even flown to San Francisco to meet their grandfather for the very first time, in order to obtain answers. Not that those answers had satisfied him. He hadn’t believed a word of it when Primo first explained the family legend, dismissing the possibility out of hand. Not that it changed anything.
The Inferno defied disbelief.
She gathered up their towels, along with the clothes they’d been wearing before their visit to the hot tub and dumped them in the washer. Next, she headed for the kitchen. She found Ty there, opening a bottle of wine and setting it aside to breathe.
“I found steaks in the refrigerator,” he informed her.
“Oh, great. The stove has a grill. I’ll cook them on that. Are there fresh vegetables I can shish kabob?”
“Red peppers, zucchini, mushrooms, and onions.”
Lucia laughed. “My mouth is watering. I don’t know about you, but I’ve worked up an appetite.”
His dark gaze heated, burning with an unquenchable hunger. “Make sure you eat well. I’m looking forward to making love to you in front of that fire I have going in the living room.”
Warmth filled her belly, shooting through her veins with urgent need. How was it possible when they’d just had sex less than an hour ago? Everything about him drew her. Had her aching with desire. She forced herself to turn away and work on dinner, but her appetite had nothing to do with food and everything to do with him.
The meal didn’t take long to prepare. They ate in the kitchen on the stools surrounding one side of a long granite island, chatting about general interests and silly personality quirks. Which side of the bed they each preferred. Favorite colors and cars and movies and TV programs. The get-to-know-you bits of detritus that most learned on a first date, but that they’d skipped right over because they couldn’t keep their hands off each other.
“Seriously, Scarlett Johansson is your hall pass?”
“Yes, seriously,” he replied. “So, who tops your cheat list?”
She gestured with her shish kabob skewer. “No question. Patrick Swayze. I think I’ve watched Ghost and Dirty Dancing a hundred times each.”
“Swayze? Really?” His brow crinkled. “Not, I don’t know, Ryan Gosling or Bradley Cooper?”
“Nope.”
“But, wait. Isn’t Swayze dead?”
“Yup.”
“I’m not sure it counts if he’s dead.” To her amusement, Ty gave it serious consideration. “Not only that, but if he were still alive, I think he’d be in his sixties.”
She slanted him a laughing glance. “Then I guess you don’t have to worry about me ending up in bed with him, do you?” She crunched on a lightly grilled sweet pepper still gracing her almost-clean plate. “You on the other hand . . .”
“What if I promised to keep my eyes closed and think of you?”
She shoved her plate to one side. “Yeah, that’s just creepy. Plus, Scarlett would probably kick your ass if she found out you were thinking about another woman. I have a feeling she could do it, too. I think she performs most of her own stunts.”
He simply smiled. “She can try, though I’m pretty confident I can take a comic book heroine.”
Considering his size and wealth of muscles, she probably shouldn’t bet against him, Lucia conceded. “I guess if you ever get the chance to use your hall pass, you might as well do it right.”
“You mean keep my eyes open and not think about you? So, that’s official permission, right?”
She laughed, shoving him off his stool. “Get out of here, Ty.”
“Okay, okay. There’s only one problem with my choice.”
“And what’s that?”
“Grab our wine.” The minute she did, he swept her off her perch and into his arms. “The problem is, I don’t want anyone except you.”
She wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed the base of his throat. The glasses clinked and their wine threatened to slosh over the rims. “Ditto.”
He instantly caught the reference to Ghost and chuckled. “Not even Grandpa Patrick?”
“Not even.”
He lowered her to a thick, woolen area rug in front of the fire. He hadn’t built it into a roaring conflagration, settling for somewhere between brisk and banked. It sparked and crackled, the trapped moisture causing it to pop periodically. They curled up together, sipping their wine.
“Would you really think of me when you were in bed with Scarlett?”
He snorted. “You’re killing me, Lucia. I think that’s called a no-win question.”
She spared him a sideways look, full of mischief. “Would you like a win-win question?”
He took her glass and moved it to a nearby table, setting his beside hers. “It’s always a win-win when I’m with you.”
“That’s so sweet. Corny, but sweet.”
He whipped his sweater over his head and settled down on top of her, resting on his elbows so he didn’t crush her. She parted her legs and hooked them over the back of his. The ring on his chain swung toward her and she caught it in her hand.
“What’s this?”
If he hadn’t been draped across her, she might not have picked up on his tension. At her question, his muscles clenched, even though his expression never changed. “It’s a ring.”
“Got it. Whose ring?”
He answered readily enough, so apparently that wasn’t the source of his tension. “I’m not sure. My mother always wore it on this chain, so I assume my father gave it to her. She insisted I take it right before she died.”
Something sounded off. “But . . . ?”
“She said the ring belonged to my father.”
She took a moment to analyze the odd wording. “She phrased it just like that? It belonged to your father? Not, your father gave it to me?”
“It belonged to my father.”
“Huh.” His jaw tightened and he avoided her eyes, a dead giveaway. “There’s more, isn’t there?”
He rolled off her and onto his back, staring at the ceiling. “Do we have to?”
She sat up, instantly concerned. “Of course not, Ty. You don’t have to tell me anything you don’t want to.”
He released his breath in a slow sigh. “That doesn’t seem fair considering how open you’ve been about your ex.”
“Doesn’t matter,” she insisted. “Seriously, you don’t owe me an explanation. We’re allowed to choose what to share. We’re also allowed to not share.”
He nodded. “I’ll tell you about it. Might as well get it out into the open.”
“Okay.” Maybe, okay.
“It’s not a big deal.” He continued to stare at the ceiling, though now the tension visibly rippling through his body and echoed through the rough tones of his voice, belying his words. “It’s just something she said right before she died. They were her last words to me.”
Not a big deal? She suspected just the opposite came closer to the truth. “What did she say?”
His jaw tightened. “She was dying, Lucia. She couldn’t have been thinking straight.”
Uh-oh. Whatever his mother had said must have been bad to have had such a devastating impact on Ty and force him to make excuses before he’d even told her those final words. She gently stroked his shoulder. “What did she say?”
“She said . . .” He spoke fast, the words tripping over each other. “She said
she loved me and that I’d been a wonderful son to her. And then her final words were, ‘I wish I really were your mother.’”
Lucia froze. “Do you think she meant it? Is it possible she adopted you?”
“I have no idea. I’ve checked my birth certificate and it lists her as my mother. No father, but she is my birth mother. Then I tracked down a couple of people who knew her when she was pregnant with me. It wasn’t easy, but I found them. They’ve all confirmed she gave birth to a son, although she never identified my father to any of them. She didn’t have any family they knew of, so that went nowhere.”
“Could she have meant she wished she’d been a better mother?”
He shook his head. “I have no idea.”
She glanced down at the chain he wore. “What about the ring? Could you trace that?”
“I don’t know. Maybe?”
She curled up beside him and wrapped her arms around him. “I’ll tell you what. Why don’t we have Primo take a look at the ring? He may have some ideas about how to trace it.”
“Do you think he would?”
“Definitely.” She stroked a hand across his broad shoulders. He was so gorgeous, strong and powerful and unbelievably sexy. And he carried such a heavy weight. “I’m sorry, Ty. Leave it to me to not just break the mood, but totally destroy it.”
“You haven’t destroyed it.” He turned to face her, a sudden urgency sweeping across his expression. “Kiss me and I guarantee we’ll get the mood back again.”
She didn’t hesitate. Cupping his face, she leaned in and slid her mouth across his. He jackknifed upward, flipping her onto her back. With a single kiss, he swept away all thoughts and worries about the past and future, leaving only the two of them caught within this brief bubble of time and space.
He didn’t rush, removing her clothing piece by piece. He cupped her breasts, worshiping them with mouth and teeth and tongue. She shuddered beneath each caress, passion an uncontrollable force, driving her like a helpless leaf before a fierce wind.
Their lovemaking changed, shifted to something she’d never experienced before. Of course, everything about their relationship was unlike anything she’d ever experienced before. Emotions flooded through her, the incandescent heat of desire, that was a given. But he also infused his taking with a tenderness that stole her breath . . . and her heart.
She’d never believed in love at first sight. Not even Andrew had taken her over and under so quickly. But with one touch, Ty captured her. Held her in the palm of his hand where The Inferno burned fiercest. Made her heart his.
They made love on and off throughout the night until the early morning light bathed them in warmth, and sleep finally claimed them.
Just before Lucia surrendered to oblivion, she pressed her mouth to his and conceded the undeniable truth, if only to herself.
She’d fallen in love with Ty.
Chapter Eight
Ty made certain the next day passed in a haze of pleasure, with no time for fear or worry to intrude. He filled the hours with endless activities, from building a snowman to watching movies and eating popcorn in the Dantes’ theater to “playing” in the hot tub. When evening settled, they worked together preparing dinner, talking and laughing about anything and everything—except those few subjects they both deemed off limits.
Even so, time slipped past, and he sensed events moving in a direction that would soon force their return to reality. That night, they made love with a bittersweet desperation, awareness seeping in that morning would bring a sea change neither wanted.
Sure enough, early the next day the insistent ring tone of Ty’s cell phone assaulted them, as penetrating as the screech of a fire alarm.
“What the f—?” He bolted out of bed and pawed through the pile of clothes they’d tossed to one side. “What? Who? What time is it? Shit.”
“Wakey-wakey, Masterson. It’s Juice. It’s eight o’clock Monday morning. And right back at you, son.”
Ty groaned, struggling to blink the blur from his eyes. Beside him, Lucia stirred and groaned. “No,” she pleaded. “Not yet. I need more sleep. Don’t you people ever sleep?”
“You conscious?” Juice asked with surprising patience. “Faculties pinging to life?”
“One or two,” Ty growled.
“Well, get them all up and running. You’re ordered back to San Francisco pronto.”
“Why?” he demanded. “What’s happened?”
“Ah, now there’s the Masterson we all know and love. Nonna is asking for Lucia.”
His brain finally came online, the world around him becoming sharp and clear. “She’s improved?”
“Would love to say yes.” A grim quality underscored the comment. “I truly would.”
Ty reluctantly shook his head at Lucia’s hopeful expression. He sat on the edge of the bed and slung an arm around her shoulders. He wished they weren’t both naked during this conversation. Even though they couldn’t be seen, it felt awkward. Still, he’d been in far more awkward situations, some of them involving Juice.
“Seriously, what’s going on?”
“Primo wants her back, like yesterday. And when Primo speaks . . .”
“Everyone obeys.”
“You got it.”
Ty stood and walked to the bank of windows overlooking the lake. Despite the forecast for a warm snap, snow still blanketed the landscape. “FYI, we’re snowed in.”
“Hell, son, I rented you a four-wheel drive Wrangler with every bell and whistle known to mankind. I’m confident you know how to drive one of those through a little dusting of snow.”
Ty gave serious consideration to the twelve inch dusting. “Of course.”
“Then stop wasting my time and get the little miss to the hospital.”
He spared the “little miss” a quick glance. “I’m assuming you know the police have identified Orrin Benedict, Lucia’s ex-brother-in-law, as the gunman?”
Juice cleared his throat. “I might even have known before they did.”
Of course he had. “Are they any closer to finding him?”
“Not, yet.”
Ty took a deep breath and thought through what he needed to do and how best to accomplish it. “I’ll call you when we’re twenty minutes out. Meet us at the hospital. I want Lucia escorted inside. No point in taking any risks.”
“That’s the game plan. And just so you know, that game plan includes your joining Lucia when she visits Nonna.”
“Primo’s orders?”
“Are there any other kind?”
“We’ll be there as quick as we can,” he confirmed, checking the time. “We’re looking at closer to four or five hours than three.”
“The clock is ticking.” Juice’s voice turned grim again. “We don’t know how much longer she’s going to last.”
“We’ll be on the road within thirty.”
“I’ll let everyone know.”
One final question occurred. “Juice, do you know why she wants to see Lucia?”
“Yes.”
With that, the call disconnected, leaving Ty swearing beneath his breath. After Lucia’s initial question about Nonna, she’d remained silent throughout the conversation. He appreciated her restraint.
“It was Juice, obviously. Nonna is asking for you and they’d like us to get to the hospital as soon as possible.” He hesitated. Should he tell her they didn’t expect her grandmother to last much longer? As much as he hated doing it, it wouldn’t be fair to conceal the information. “They don’t know how much time she has,” he added gently.
Lucia nodded, taking the news stoically, though he caught the glimmer of tears. “Do you know why she wants to see me?”
“No idea. You?”
“Possibly.” She jumped to her feet. “We have clothes in the dryer, and I’d like to grab a two-minute shower.”
“I’ll fix breakfast. I want to be on the road in thirty.”
“No problem.”
He watched her scurry, naked, in the direc
tion of the laundry room. No problem, she’d said. He didn’t know a single woman who could pull herself together, shower, pack, eat, and hit the road in under thirty minutes.
Except Lucia, apparently.
They actually managed it in twenty. Leaving the Dantes’ compound took the longest, the road slippery and difficult to negotiate. The county roads leading to the highway were in slightly better shape due to a continuous stream of slow-moving traffic. US 5 was wet, but hadn’t received any snow at all. He made up for lost time there, willing to eat a ticket if it meant getting to San Francisco a little sooner.
He called Juice, as planned. Pulling up to the entrance, he waited until Dante security identified themselves and shepherded Lucia inside. After parking the Wrangler, he joined the small group, impressed despite himself. He doubted the president commanded a better detail than the one assigned to Lucia.
They were dropped off at a waiting area outside the ICU. After a few minutes, Sev exited the unit and joined them, holding out a hand to Ty. “Thanks for everything you’ve done for us, Masterson. Both watching over Lucia and getting her here in time to see Nonna.”
In time. He glanced toward Lucia and saw her visibly flinch at the words, her face turning bone white. He took her hand in his and she clung to him as though he’d thrown her a lifeline.
“Should we go in now?” she asked in a strained voice.
Sev hesitated, his gaze sharp and assessing. He knew, Ty realized. He’d been told Lucia was his sister. “Primo is in there and normally, they only allow two visitors in the ICU at a time. They’re making an exception for Nonna.” He offered a gentle smile and his hand twitched, as though he wanted to offer some form of physical comfort. “We don’t want to take advantage of the situation, so you won’t be able to stay for longer than a few minutes.”
Lucia gave a stilted nod. “Okay.” She finally looked directly at Sev, openly steeling herself. “Do you know what she wants?”
A slow, amused smile cut across the seriousness of his expression before fading. “Yes.” He spared a brief glance in Ty’s direction. “I’ll let Nonna and Primo explain.”