by Cara Marsi
The driver’s strange behavior and her own eerie premonition hadn’t lessened her enjoyment of the dinner. The delicious antipasto with homemade sausage, cheeses, honey, saffron and marinated vegetables was followed by an equally mouth-watering entrée of homemade gnocchi with basil tomato sauce and fresh shaved truffles. She licked her lips, tasting the lingering sweet and spicy notes of the dinner which also included juicy turkey breast with orange and greens and a selection of rich, fine wines. All topped off with biscotti, honey and espresso.
She had enough food in her to last into next week. With a satiated sigh, she pulled open the heavy door and stepped into the hotel lobby.
Anna looked up with a smile when she entered. “Buona sera, Signorina Cortese.”
“Good evening to you too, Anna.” Lexie smiled and headed for the elevator.
“Signorina,” Anna said, stopping her. “A man was here earlier looking for you. He said you left something today when you were with him at Trevi.”
Lexie’s pulse jumped. “Was he a very good-looking man, about thirty?”
The clerk frowned. “He was good-looking, but much older than thirty. He said his name was Angelo.”
The fine hairs on Lexie’s arms stood up. “I don’t know an Angelo.”
“He seemed very nice,” Anna said. “He wouldn’t leave the item with me. He said he’d be back.”
“Grazie, Anna.” Strange that some guy she didn’t know was looking for her. Icy fingers seemed to skim Lexie’s spine as she got into the elevator. Her sense of foreboding followed her to her room, an unwelcome companion. When she slid the key card into the lock, chills ran up her arm. She cautiously pushed open the door, hesitating on the threshold. Chaos spread out before her. The room looked as if a funnel cloud had picked everything up, twirled it around, then tossed it back down. The bureau drawers were opened and their contents strewn all over. The bed clothes had been pulled off and the mattress was crooked.
The desecration made her stomach cramp like a knife had been plunged into her gut. She put a trembling hand to her midsection and took deep breaths. Calm down, Lexie, calm down. Thank God she’d put her passport, jewelry, and gifts in the safe deposit box.
A slight shuffling noise came from the bathroom, causing her to freeze. The door was closed. There, she heard it again. Fear curled in her stomach and wound its way to her throat. Suppressing a scream, she backed away.
When she got into the hall she sprinted for the stairs. No time to wait for the elevator. She’d gone two flights when she heard heavy footsteps behind her.
Heart pumping wildly, she kicked off her stilettos, clutched her purse to her chest, and raced the rest of the way down.
The footsteps were closing in. Pure adrenaline flowed through her veins, pushing her to run faster. She shoved open the door to the main floor and almost fell into the lobby. A couple waiting by the elevator gave her startled looks. Ignoring them, she dashed to the desk.
Anna jumped when Lexie, breathing heavily, grasped the edge of the desk and nearly collapsed.
“Signorina Cortese, what is it?”
“Room, break-in,” Lexie huffed out. “Someone chasing me.” Pressing a hand to her stomach, she bent over. Bile rose in her throat. She was going to be sick.
****
After a stress-filled two hours of waiting for the police, then questions by the police and hotel staff, they’d moved Lexie to another room in the hotel. This one was smaller but less isolated and faced the Via Corsi, better to call for help.
She’d taken a shower, trying to wash off the feeling of violation. It didn’t help. Neither did the calming scent of the lavender and lemon potpourri wafting from the large dish the hotel manager had placed on the dresser.
Nervous energy forced her to pace, to keep moving. The sound of her bare feet muffled by the thick carpet, she circled the small room. The pale light of dawn filtered through the sheer curtains, gilding the white walls with a golden patina. The promise of another beautiful sun-filled day couldn’t shake her sense of danger. Whoever had broken into her room would be back. She knew it. She hugged herself in a futile effort to bring calm to her shaking insides.
The police had taken her statement and searched her old room. Though she’d been a mess, the police had handled the whole incident with bored indifference. She’d tried to convince them and the hotel staff that there had to be a reason why only her room had been broken into. When she told the police about the attempted robbery at Trevi, they’d dismissed her anxiety, saying there could be no connection.
But she knew something weird was going on. First, the strange sensation of being watched that had stayed with her since right before she entered the leather goods store. Then her bag was stolen, to be returned by a drop-dead handsome Italian who’d been in the right place at the right time.
She chewed on her fingernail, her mind playing back the other strange events as she continued pacing. Her limo driver had seemed to keep guard over her during dinner. The clerk said a man had been looking for her. And the man wasn’t Dominic.
More puzzles.
Could all these events be tied together?
She squeezed fingers on her temples, trying to block out the churning thoughts. The bed beckoned, the heavy white comforter turned down, waiting for her. With a sigh, she slipped into bed, pulled the covers close, and finally fell into a restless sleep.
She woke hours later, dressed, then headed out. Things would seem better once she had a strong cup of coffee and some fresh air.
When she got to the lobby, the desk clerks and a few guests were huddled together, talking in hushed tones and studying a newspaper.
“What’s going on?” Lexie asked the nearest clerk.
“It’s a terrible thing,” he said. “One of our maids, Maria, was found dead.” He fluttered his hands. “She was stabbed in the heart.”
CHAPTER FOUR
Maria was dead. The words had played through Lexie’s mind all day. Gentle, sweet, Maria. Dead. Every nerve in Lexie’s body had screamed at the news. Nothing that had happened was a coincidence.
Not a coincidence. Even now, as Silvano, the maitre d’ at her favorite restaurant in Piazza Navona, led her and Dominic to their table, the wrenching words repeated like a funeral dirge without end.
With the break-in at her hotel room, then Maria’s murder, Lexie had felt her control ready to shatter. The heady feeling of being with Dominic, the excitement he provoked in her, couldn’t totally wipe out seeing the picture of Maria’s sheet-covered body on the front page of the newspaper. Lexie’s sensation of being watched and the premonition of danger had only grown stronger in the hours since.
Shivering, she pulled her denim jacket closer. The sun had long ago set and the spring air held a chill, but she’d asked for a table outside. The beautiful piazza with its stunning fountain never failed to calm her.
Dominic put his hand on her waist as they wound their way past the few other diners willing to brave the cool air. “You’re sure you don’t want to eat indoors where it’s warmer?”
She half turned to look up at him. Part of her wanted to respond that so long as he was near, she felt warm enough. She didn’t know him, yet his nearness incited sensual longings she’d never before experienced. At the same time, she felt safe with Dominic, as if, for a little while, he could keep her anxieties at bay. She offered him a smile.
“I love it out here,” she said. “My jacket will keep me warm.”
His eyes glowed as if to say, But I can keep you warmer.
Her insides burned at her thoughts. Good thing Dominic couldn’t read her mind.
They settled into their seats, the best in the house. She’d been coming to this restaurant almost every day since she’d been in Rome. The waiters, all of whom she knew by name, nodded at her and gave Dominic curious looks.
“I bring your usual drink, yes, signorina?” Silvano asked.
“Yes, please.”
Silvano looked at Dominic. “And for you, signore?
”
“I’ll have the signorina’s usual.”
When the maitre d’ moved away, Dominic turned to Lexie. “What is the usual?”
She laughed, the first time she’d done so since yesterday, with Dominic. “Bellini.”
“Ah,” he said. “Good choice.”
His smoldering gaze caught and held hers. His attention made her feel as if she were the only person in the world, as if the others sitting nearby didn’t exist. Shifting uncomfortably, she looked out over the piazza, which was bathed in light from the street lamps. The April coolness had thinned the crowds that surged here during the day.
Maria had recommended this restaurant. Lexie shuddered, not sure if it was from the cold or the memory of Maria’s violent murder.
“You’re trembling,” Dominic said. “We should go inside.”
“No, I’m fine.” She glanced down at the white-clothed table and picked up one of the silver forks, turning it over, trying to shake her melancholy.
“What’s wrong?” he asked. “Something is bothering you.”
She jerked her head up. He hardly knew her. She’d been with Jerry for ten years, but he’d never been able to read her—or maybe he’d never bothered to try.
“Something happened last night,” she said, inhaling a deep breath, taking in the succulent aromas of tomato sauce, basil, and freshly grated cheese. Her stomach churned, reminding her she’d had nothing but coffee all day. Disturbed over Maria’s death, she’d had no appetite.
Dominic straightened and his features tightened as a calculating hardness came into his eyes. “Last night?”
Frowning, Lexie nodded. He reminded her of a hunter on alert. “Maria, my maid at the hotel, was found murdered.” Lexie fought back tears. “It was in the paper today. She was stabbed.”
“Your maid was murdered?” Dominic said the words slowly, as if he wanted to digest them carefully. His body remained rigid and his cool gaze locked on hers. “Stabbed you said? Was it a robbery?”
Lexie had the fleeting sensation of being questioned by a cop. “Not a robbery. Maria had her wallet in her coat pocket.” Guilt shot through her and she looked down at the table again. “She’d stayed late to clean my room. I’d given her my old black purse as a gift, but they didn’t find it with her body.” She raised her gaze to find Dominic staring intently at her.
“You gave her your handbag?”
His sharp voice and cutting gaze pierced through her. She leaned closer. “Why do you say it like that? Do you think her having my old handbag could be why they killed her?” She chewed her lip. “I’ve wondered that myself. It was a good handbag. Maybe her killer thought she kept a lot of money in it.”
He placed his hand over hers on the table. “You can’t think you were in any way responsible. Perhaps Maria did have money in your old purse and fought them when they tried to take it.”
“You may be right,” she said, not at all convinced he was. Despite his dismissive words, his posture was that of a coiled snake, ready to strike. Lexie looked down at the table, then back at him, instinctively knowing that even if that were true, she wouldn’t be his target. “That’s not all. Someone broke into my room while I was at dinner last night. The room was a total mess, and the intruder was still there when I got back.” She gave him a shaky smile. “Thank God I was able to outrun him.”
“Madone! Your maid was killed and your room ransacked? And someone chased you?” His eyes had turned cold as black ice. A muscle twitched in his jaw. “Why didn’t you tell me this before?”
For all his extraordinary looks and his gallantry toward her, Lexie felt something dangerous close to Dominic’s surface, waiting to break loose with the slightest provocation. Lexie shuddered as Silvano appeared with their drinks, saving her from having to respond.
“I really don’t want to talk about it any more,” she said. Her insides rumbled with too many unanswered questions. “Let’s enjoy our meal.” With an effort, she forced her mind from the sinister events that seemed to cling to her like sauce on pasta.
Dominic’s shoulders relaxed and his eyes, so cold a moment ago, once again turned as warm and inviting as the richest chocolate. The man was definitely one to watch out for, able to turn his charm on and off with ease. She would need to be very careful.
He held up his glass. “To sharing a meal with one of the most beautiful women in Rome.”
“Thank you.” Sipping her Bellini, she stared at Dominic over the rim of the glass. He was almost too perfect, too good-looking. Despite her intention to give herself up to whatever pleasure awaited, a frisson of apprehension coursed through her. He was hiding something. She knew it. But she was leaving Rome in less than two weeks. They were only ships that passed in the night, two people who might come close to each other for a time, but would inevitably part.
“Are you married?” The words erupted from her.
His startled look was replaced by laughter. “No, Lexie, I’m not married. Have never been married.”
“How do I know that?”
“You don’t.” He took her hand in his. “Trust me, please, on this. I have no one, no wife, no girlfriend.”
Lexie studied him. “No wife or girlfriend? A guy who looks like you?”
He threw back his head and laughed. “You Americans with your directness.” His features turned serious. “My work keeps me too busy for a wife, or even a girlfriend.”
“I didn’t realize banking was that time consuming.”
He shrugged and sipped his drink.
“What bank do you work for?” she asked.
“The Bank of Italy.”
He sure wasn’t very forthcoming with information. “What do you do for them?”
“I’m a senior auditor. I travel mostly through Italy conducting audits. From time to time I travel to other parts of Europe where we have smaller banks.”
“Oh. That explains it.” Somehow, she believed him about not being married. Yet she suspected if she peeled back even a few of the many layers of Dominic Brioni, she’d find a very complex person. But she was in Rome to forget, to start a new life as the new Lexie. Whatever secrets he hid were none of her business.
****
The meal had been exquisite, the company even better. As Lexie and Dominic walked back to her hotel, the half moon illuminating their way and stars splashed across a blue velvet sky, Lexie felt calmer than she had in days, despite the events of the past thirty-six hours.
Dominic had regaled her with stories, some funny, some poignant, of his visits to far flung parts of the globe. When he wasn’t traveling for work, he traveled a lot for pleasure. It didn’t seem as if he was home much. She wondered where he lived, what kind of apartment he had. Was it as cool and empty as a hotel room, or warm and cozy, a real home? She’d like to know.
As he’d talked of his travels, an unexpected sadness had flitted across his face, as if he regretted the time spent away. She’d wanted to touch his face, to smooth away the melancholy, but she hardly knew him.
He took her hand now, holding it firmly in his large, calloused one. When she looked up at him, he smiled that smile of his, more delicious than the tiramisu they’d shared for dessert. What would it be like to kiss him, hold him, see if the promise in his eyes would materialize into soul-shattering sex?
He pulled her closer and squeezed her hand. His sexuality might have her insides in knots, but he also made her feel safe, protected, important. No one, certainly not Jerry, had ever made her feel so safe and secure. Contentment stole over her.
“I had fun tonight,” she said. “You’re a very good listener.” Through dinner, they’d kept up a stream of conversation. She hadn’t traveled to nearly the places he had, but he’d asked a lot of questions about Las Vegas, which he’d never visited, and seemed genuinely interested in her answers.
He laughed softly. “My sister likes to talk. Maybe that’s why.”
“A sister,” she said. “I should have known.”
“Why is that?”
She smiled up at him. “You remind me of a man who’s used to being around women, to taking care of them.”
A shadow passed over his face. “Not always.”
Lexie wondered at his reaction, but declined to press him. In silence, they headed down one of the many ancient narrow streets that dotted the city. She could almost see the chariots hurtling along the cobblestones and the vendors hawking their wares from stalls set up on the sides. Someday, when she had her Masters in World History, she’d come back here to study. Someday, she’d have her PhD in Ancient Roman studies. But that dream was a long way off. Baby steps, she reminded herself. After Jerry’s betrayal, she’d learned to take small steps, to think only of the moment.
A number of tourists wandered the streets despite the late hour. When she trembled from the nip of the early spring air, Dominic released her hand and put his arm around her shoulders, drawing her against him. The heat of his body scorched a trail down her legs to her toes.
The roar of an engine echoed down the street. Dominic stiffened and pressed her closer. A motor scooter emerged from the darkness. The driver, dressed in black and wearing a black helmet with a face guard that completely covered his features, headed straight for them. Before Lexie had time to scream, Dominic pushed her out of the scooter’s path. The vehicle brushed by him, knocking him down.
Lexie had started to run to him when someone grabbed her arm, pulling her around. A man, his face hidden by a ski mask, held tightly to her. Her shock ratcheted to fear.
“Let go,” she yelled, trying to jerk her arm away from him, but his grip tightened. The dim light from the balcony above illuminated his flat black eyes. She had seen those eyes before.
Holy shit. She was in trouble.
The masked man grabbed for her purse. She screamed, and with strength she didn’t know she possessed, whammed him on the head with her purse. He staggered back, swearing, and slipped and fell. Lights and freedom beckoned from the nearby Via Corsi, but all Lexie could think about was Dominic. Turning on her heels, she ran to him, slipping on the ancient stones herself as Dominic struggled to stand. But before she could reach him, the mugger caught up with her and grabbed her shoulder, twisting her around.