Primal: London Mob Book Two

by Michelle St. James

  But they weren’t in London anymore.

  “To what do I owe this invitation?” Carolina asked. Her English was accented just enough to be charming.

  Farrell smiled. “I offered to come to you.”

  She waved away the statement. “It's a pleasure to get out of the city in the summer.”

  He nodded. “I wanted to let you know I’m in town.”

  She regarded him with cool brown eyes. “We no longer operate under the rules of the Syndicate.”

  “I’m aware,” he said. “Nevertheless, I wanted to do you the courtesy, and to make it clear that my purpose here is… personal.”

  She raised a perfectly groomed brow. “Personal?”

  “That's right.”

  She tapped one manicured hand on her knee. “Anything I can help you with?”

  He thought about it. “How tuned into arrivals and departures are you?”

  “In Florence?”

  He nodded.

  She favored him with a patronizing smile. “Would you have asked my father such a question?”

  “No,” he said. “I would have gone straight to Raneiro.”

  She waited a beat to reply, and he wondered if she was considering his response or simply trying to throw him off guard.

  He should have wished her good luck. The only person who threw him off guard was currently wandering the villa, oblivious to the fact that he’d soon be leaving her here with Lily while he went to Amsterdam.

  “Fair enough,” Carolina said. “Suffice it to say I have my ear to the ground, particularly at the municipal airports and the charter terminals. Why do you ask?”

  “I need to leave my daughter and her mother here,” he said. “And I need to know they’re safe.”

  She didn’t bother to hide her surprise. “Your daughter?”

  He held her gaze. “That’s right.”

  She tipped her head. “You’ll be leaving them here? In Tuscany?”

  “Yes, but I’m concerned about their safety, and I need to know if someone… unusual comes to town.”

  “This is Florence,” she said. “You’ll have to be more specific than unusual.”

  “Specifically, I need to know if a heavily armed contingent arrives by charter, or in lieu of that, someone powerful who seems to have no reason to be here.”

  She sighed. “You would make my job easier if you could give me a name.”

  “I’d love to,” he said. “But I don’t have one yet. That’s why I’m leaving town. I need to pin down the threat. Right now I only know that I narrowly prevented my daughter and her mother from being murdered in an alley in London, and I can’t be sure that whoever ordered it won’t keep trying.”

  She looked down, studying her nails. “And does this have anything to do with what happened in Cornwall?”

  He wasn't surprised that she knew about the invasion in Cornwall. Their world was, for all intents and purposes, still small. Word traveled fast and far.

  “It does.”

  She looked around the study, gazed out the window. “You appear to have good security here.”

  “The best,” he said. “But if this goes as high as I think it does, it may not matter. I need all the help I can get. Let me know if you suspect someone might have found them, and I will be in your debt.”

  She smiled. “In my debt?”

  He nodded.

  “I rather like people in my debt. Some more than others.”

  If it had been anyone but Carolina Barone, he might have thought there was sexual innuendo in the words. But her gaze was cold, lacking any kind of personal interest. His eyes skidded to the guard manning the door. Farrell recognized the other man as one of Agostino’s guards, but there was something new in his eyes. Something proprietary. Was it possible Carolina was having a fling with her bodyguard?

  Interesting.

  “Then you’re in luck,” he said. “Will you let me or Leo know if you get wind of anything unusual?”

  She stood, smoothing her skirt. “I can do that, although I can’t promise you security. Without the Syndicate, the rules are… in flux. I’m not looking to make enemies. I simply want to continue my father’s business in his absence.”

  “I understand,” Farrell said, standing. “Fair warning is all I ask.”

  “That I can do.”

  He shook her hand, marveling at the strange combination of cool, soft skin and the grip that made it clear Carolina Barone wasn’t someone to be trifled with, however elegant she appeared.

  “Thank you.”

  She smiled. “You’re welcome. I hope I get to meet your daughter one day.” She hesitated, and a something sad seemed to pass over her features. “I rather like children.”

  She turned, and Farrell couldn’t help admiring the straight line of her back, the curve of her hips and she sashayed to the door. There would never be a woman who set him on fire like Jenna, but from a purely clinical standpoint, he would bet money Carolina was the toast of Florence, possibly the whole of Italy.

  Her bodyguard watched her hungrily as she approached, held the door, then exited on her heels without a word. Leo followed, presumably to show them out. He reappeared in Farrell’s study a few minutes later.

  “Can we trust them?” he asked, leaning against the door.

  “I think so. As much as we can trust anyone,” Farrell said.

  Leo nodded. “Now what?”

  “Now I tell Jenna I’m going to Amsterdam. I need to find Erik Karlsen. And the sooner the better.”

  “She’s not going to like it,” he said.

  “Irrelevant,” Farrell said. “She’s safer here. She’ll do as she’s told.”

  11

  Jenna watched from the big living room window as the woman left. The big man walked behind her. She couldn’t see his eyes behind the sunglasses, but she knew from the way his head swiveled from side to side that his gaze was watchful. She recognized his posture — body coiled, ready to strike, prepared to defend.

  It was the same posture Farrell assumed when he was with her.

  The man opened the door to a sleek, black car, and the woman slid into the passenger seat, flashing a long, lean thigh under stockings and a garter belt. She was gorgeous. Beyond gorgeous. She was elegant and chic, confident and untouchable. Jenna felt a surge of jealousy move through her. Had Farrell been seeing this woman while they’d been apart?

  Then again, was it any of Jenna’s business?

  That was an easy one; the answer was no. Yet she couldn’t stop the swell of possessiveness that clutched at her chest. Farrell still belonged to her.

  Didn’t he?

  She shook her head, turning away from the window. She was being foolish. She’d chosen to leave Farrell in Cornwall. He was a free agent, and so was she, although she knew instinctively Farrell wouldn’t see it that way if she started seeing someone else.

  The idea was repugnant. She couldn’t imagine another man’s hands on her. Couldn’t imagine another man’s body moving inside hers. She had been branded by Farrell to her core. Moving on wasn’t as simple as finding another man.

  She pushed the thoughts from her mind. Her relationship with Farrell was complicated in the truest sense of the word. She couldn’t begin to unravel the details of it right now. She turned away from the window and headed for the back of the house. Lily had been gone almost two hours, and she was hoping to get a glimpse of her daughter from the terrace off the kitchen.

  She stepped outside, letting the warmth from the stone sink into the bottoms of her bare feet. The goats were still roaming outside the building behind the villa, but there was no sign of Lily. She forced herself not to give in to alarm. It was a natural response after what had happened in Cornwall, but the odds of that kind of scene repeating so soon were slim. She knew it was true, but letting go of her fear wasn’t as easy as it sounded. It took effort not to hover over Lily now. Not to try and shield her from every worry and fear, every fall and scrape.

  She sat in one of the lou
nge chairs, forcing herself to breathe. Lily was no doubt with Ernesto and his son, playing in the orchard or running through the grape vines Mrs. Pendleton said grew behind the estate. Had the compound been breached, Farrell’s guards would have sounded the alarm, the house would be on lock down, and she and Lily would undoubtedly be crouching in one of the panic rooms with a gun-wielding bodyguard.

  She closed her eyes against the sun, letting it warm her face as she turned her thoughts to her father. He’d been heavy on her mind since the incident in the alley. He’d been a simple man, but he’d loved his wife and daughters. He must have known the research papers would put them in danger. Must have known they would be especially dangerous to Jenna given that he’d made her the sole signatory on the safe deposit box in Madrid.

  She tried to imagine him making the decision to hide the papers, to lead her to them. He hadn’t listed Kate as a signatory. He’d listed Jenna, even knowing she had Lily to think about. He’d trusted her. But for the last three months she’d done nothing but hide. She’d gone about her business as if her father hadn’t given his life to ensure the papers would reach her hands.

  Shame heated her face. He’d thought she was brave. It was something he always said to her when she was little, when she’d had to wrestle her mother into bed and soothe Kate.

  There’s my beautiful, brave girl…

  But she wasn’t brave. She was a coward. She’d run at the first sign of danger with no thought to the sacrifice he’d made to get the research papers out of the Institute. To hide them in a place where only Jenna would find them.

  She didn’t know what the research meant. She and Farrell had only managed to deduce that someone was trying to weaponize the Marburg virus. They hadn’t gotten as far as who was behind it — or what they wanted to do with it — before the invasion at Cornwall.

  She opened her eyes, suddenly realizing that she wanted to know. Her father had died to pass along the information. Had been willing to forfeit his safe, predictable life. Had even been willing to risk hers. She’d largely lost touch with her family when she’d moved to New York, their contact relegated to occasional phone calls and visits from Kate on her way to a beach vacation with friends. But her father had loved her. He wouldn’t have risked her life — and certainly not Lily’s — unless whatever he had discovered was important.

  “Beautiful, isn’t it?”

  Farrell’s voice startled her, and she sat up, shielding her eyes against the sun before settling back into the lounge chair.

  “It is.” She returned her gaze to the golden fields surrounding the villa. It was a far safer view than the vision of Farrell, standing over her like a god.

  He took the chair next to her, stretched his long legs out in front of him. She had to resist the urge to reach over, run her hand along his powerful thigh, slip it between his legs.

  “Lily still at the barn with Ernesto?” he asked.

  “I think so,” she said. “I haven’t seen her since she left.”

  “Don’t worry. She’s safe here, I promise,” Farrell said.

  She looked over at him. “How do you know I’m worried?” A knowing smile touched his lips, and she reached out, swatted his leg. “Quite the know-it-all, aren’t you?”

  “You’re her mother,” he said. “I expect you worry about her quite a lot.”

  She turned to face him. “Do you? Worry about Lily, I mean.”

  “No,” he said. “Worry is a waste of time. I spend mine making provisions for her safety — and yours. Making sure I have no cause to worry.”

  The possessiveness in his tone made her cheeks flush, and she turned back to the fields, not wanting to stare too long into his eyes.

  “I’m leaving tomorrow,” he said. “I thought you should know.”

  She sat up, turned to face him. “Leaving? Where?”

  “I’m going to try and track down the daughter of Erik Karlsen,” he said. “I need to figure out who’s behind all of this, and he’s the only lead I have.”

  “What about Lily and me?” she asked.

  “You’ll stay here.”

  He said it like it had been decided. Like it wasn’t up for discussion. She always forgot that about Farrell. The way he took control of everything without so much as a please or thank you. How he made decisions for her and expected her to blindly follow his orders. Her skin prickled with annoyance.

  “I want to come with you.” The words were out before she had time to consider them. She hadn’t even realized it was true until she said it.

  “No.”

  He stood, and she rose to her feet. “You don’t get to make that decision for me.”

  “Do I have to remind you what happened in Madrid?” he asked.

  “I remember it well, thank you,” she fired back. “But I’ve been in hiding for three months now, cowering in that little flat with Lily, afraid of every noise, every bump in the night. And just when I convinced myself I was being paranoid, we were almost killed in that alley. So I’m not going to apologize for wanting to put an end to this once and for all.”

  “That’s why I’m going — to put an end to it. Alone. There’s no need for you to be there.”

  “I have a need,” she said. “My father entrusted those papers to me. Not Kate. Not my mother, and not you, Farrell. He trusted me, and I let him down.”

  His expression softened. “You didn’t let him down.”

  “I did. I got scared and I went into hiding.”

  “To protect Lily.”

  “Yes, and because I was scared,” she said. “I’m still scared. But if what you say is true and Lily really is safe here, I want to go with you anyway. I want to see it through for him.”

  “Wouldn’t you feel better staying here with her?” She wondered if it was her imagination that his resolve seemed to waver. “Seeing that she’s safe with your own two eyes?”

  It was a low blow — using Lily’s safety to make her second guess her desire to go with him. She folded her arms across her chest. “Isn’t she?”

  He sighed. “Of course, she is.”

  “Good,” Jenna said. “I’ll have Kate come to keep an eye on her, too.”

  “That’s not really the point,” he said. “You’ll both be safer here, and it will be easier for me to focus on hunting these people down if I don’t have to worry about you.”

  “You don’t,” she said.

  “Easier said than done,” he muttered, turning away from her. Lily and Anthony had emerged from barn. They chased the goats, Lily squealing while Anthony said something in Italian and Ernesto’s laughter drifted across the field.

  She looked at Farrell’s broad back, at the shoulders that seemed strong enough to carry the weight of the world. It took every ounce of self control not to go to him, run her hands along his big arms, lean her face against his back. She didn’t want to make things harder for him. She’d done enough of that. But she owed her father this.

  “I’m not trying to be difficult,” she said. “And I promise to stay out of the way. But how dangerous can it be to meet with a scientist? If he’s really in hiding, he must be as afraid of the people behind the research as I am.”

  “We have no idea where it will lead,” Farrell said. “We went to Madrid to look inside a safe deposit box and we ended up dodging bullets.”

  “If things take a turn for the worse, I’ll come back,” she said stubbornly. She drew in a deep breath, trying to find the words to make an argument that would stick. She wasn’t crazy about leaving Lily, but this was something she had to do. If she didn’t, she’d always wonder if she had truly honored her father’s wishes, and that was a question she didn’t want to live with. “Please, Farrell. I need to do this.”

  He rubbed a hand over his face, and she knew she’d won. It was a sign of defeat, one of the few tells that emerged when Farrell let down his guard. Which wasn’t often.

  “Call Kate,” he said. “I can have the plane at Heathrow tomorrow morning.”

  She nod
ded. “Thank you.”

  He met her eyes, and she almost flinched from the ice in his gaze. “I’m allowing this for now, Jenna, but you will come back here if I think it’s too dangerous. Understood?”

  She swallowed hard. “Understood.”

  “Good.” He turned to go, then looked back. “Dinner at eight on the terrace.”

  “Just me?” she asked.

  He looked confused before shaking his head. “It’s a family dinner. Everyone will be there. Bring Lily.” He tipped his head. “And yourself, of course.”

  “Farrell?” She stopped him as he stepped into the house.

  He looked back. “Yes?”

  “Who was that woman? The one who was here a while ago?”

  He hesitated. “Another layer of protection for you and Lily.”

  And then he was gone, leaving her to ponder how the beautiful woman could possibly protect her and Lily.

  12

  “Why am I putting on a new dress, Mummy?”

  Jenna slipped the dress over Lily’s head. She’d found it in the bureau in Lily’s bedroom and had decided it was nice enough for the mysterious family dinner Farrell had planned.

  “Because your other dress smells like chickens and goats,” Jenna said, tweaking Lily’s nose.

  Lily giggled. “Goats don’t smell bad!”

  “Says you!” Jenna laughed. “Shall we braid your hair? It’s still wet from your bath.”

  “I don’t want to,” Lily said, sitting at the little table and pulling out a sheet of paper. “I’m going to draw a picture for Mrs. Pendleton.”

  Jenna stood, bending to drop a kiss on Lily’s head. “Sounds lovely. Can you do that while Mummy takes a bath?”

  Lily nodded, already humming and in her own world. Jenna smiled as she went to the bathroom and started the tub, then stripped off her clothes. In spite of everything, Lily seemed happy and well adjusted. If she suffered any lasting trauma from the events at Cornwall, they were invisible so far. She wondered if she should look into therapy when they got back to London, then decided to shelve the possibility for later consideration. They weren’t in London. They were in this lovely villa in Tuscany, as secure as anyone in the world, close to Farrell and a host of wonderful people. She would enjoy this last night with her daughter before Kate arrived tomorrow morning.