by Lucy Gordon;Sarah Morgan;Robyn Donald;Lucy Monroe;Lee Wilkinson;Kate Walker
“You have been running away for a year, Elisa. That is over.”
Stupid. She castigated herself mentally as the voice she was trying so desperately to avoid attacked taut nerve endings. It had been really dim to take refuge in the small confines of an office that had only one exit. She faced him, wishing for the numbness she had felt for so many months after the death of her baby and the destruction of her dreams.
He stood blocking that exit—his head almost brushing the top of the doorframe, his shoulders filling it.
She refused to allow any of the emotions roiling inside her to show on her face. “I’m not running. I have work to do.”
“So, it has not been running when you manage to be gone every time I have come to visit.”
“I wasn’t always gone.”
“No, this is true. The first time I came, you were home in your apartment, but you refused to open the door.”
She’d threatened to call the police if he didn’t go away and she’d meant it. Even so, she had not expected him to leave, but he had. A male of his wealth and standing could have talked the police around, but he hadn’t even pushed it. Although she’d been relieved, she still had no real clue why he had gone.
“You came back,” she accused.
“And you left.”
“I had a buyer’s trip.” He’d made the mistake of calling to tell her he was in Rome on his way to see her. She’d left for the buyer’s trip three days early.
“You were running, just as you ran the next time I attempted to see you.”
“I owed my mother a visit.”
“Your father told you I was coming to Rome. You knew that meant I was going to try to see you again. You took off on a flight for America less than an hour before I arrived.”
“My father thought I might want to see you.” A hollow laugh escaped her. Nothing could have been further from the truth, but Papa had done her a favor in warning her of Salvatore’s intended travel plans.
“You ran away, Elisa, and I let you, but I cannot let you run any longer.”
“I don’t want to see you. That’s not running away.” Even he should be sensitive enough to realize she wanted to avoid a man who had cost her more than she had to give. “That is simply reality.”
He flinched, or maybe it was a trick of the lighting. Old wiring sometimes made it flicker.
“It is also reality that your father has asked me to look after you. This I will do.”
“I don’t need looking after.”
“You can say this?” There was no trick of the lighting now. Salvatore looked furious. “The security in this store is worse than I could have thought possible. The fact Signor di Adamo has not been robbed is by the grace of il buon dio. This store is the amateur thief’s dream hit.” His stress on the word “amateur” underscored his contempt for their security.
“There hasn’t been money to make improvements in that area.”
“That is no excuse. According to both Signor di Adamo and your father, you spend many days here alone. Is this true?”
Why was he asking her when they’d already said that it was?
“It’s none of your business.”
“You are my business.”
That possessive statement set off something inside her. Pain that had been festering for months while she tried to pretend she was over him exploded in her chest. There had been no confrontation, no final end to their relationship. She’d walked out of the hospital against doctor’s orders and refused to see Salvatore from that point on.
She shot to her feet without any thought of doing so and stormed forward until they were mere inches apart. Poking him right in his rock-solid wall of a chest with each word for emphasis, she said, “I am nothing to you.“ She managed to contain the level of her voice, barely. “I was nothing to you when you were screwing me, and now that we aren’t even doing that I’m less than nothing to you. And you are nothing to me.”
“You said I was the father of the child you lost.”
She reeled from the words as if they’d been multiple body blows, staggering backwards, the pain so intense she did not know if she could contain it.
In a lightning-quick move that shocked her, he grabbed her wrist and pulled her the remaining inches while his mouth formed words she could not comprehend. Her body molded to his in a way that had once given her pleasure, but now filled her with loathing and fear. Loathing for her own physical reaction and fear that he would see it.
“Do not speak of yourself in this crude way. Whatever you were before, when we were together, you gave yourself to me. It was not ugly, as you make it out to be.”
Whatever she’d been before? A virgin. That was what she’d been, but because the physical barrier had not survived her years in gymnastics he had assumed otherwise. Had in fact assumed she was the same sort of woman as her mother. A woman who flitted from one lover to another, Shawna had been uninterested in making a commitment to any of the long line of men parading through her life.
“I’m done giving myself to you. I’ve learned my lesson,” she spat at him.
His jaw looked hewn from the hardest marble, his eyes glittered at her with fury.
She was glad. She wanted to make him angry, angry enough to leave her alone once and for all.
“We do not need to discuss this right now. I am here to see to your safety. Our relationship will wait.”
“We don’t…” She yanked herself away from him and stepped back toward her desk. “There is no relationship. None. Do you hear me? Leave me alone, Salvatore. You have no place in my life any more and you never will again.”
He didn’t say anything, just stared at her.
Then his gaze dropped below her neck and she wanted to scream. The whole time she’d been telling him off, the feminine parts of her body had been busy reacting to his scent, to the sensation of being held against him again.
“You’re lying to yourself if you believe that.”
She crossed her arms over the betraying rigid tips of her breasts and glared. “I’d rather go to bed with a sewer rat than with you, Signor Salvatore Rafael di Vitale.”
His head jerked as if she’d hit him. She wished she had.
His next words totally shocked her because they were so calm. “Signor di Adamo needs several security upgrades before either you or he will be safe in the store, and, even with them, neither of you should be here alone at any time.”
She fell back into her office chair, feeling the weight of her responsibilities too heavy to hold up any longer. Those upgrades, even the basic security measure of having two people in the store at all times, were not even pipe dreams. “I’m sure you’re right, but nothing can be done.”
“It must be done.”
“There is no money.”
Unmoved by that assertion, he said, “Nevertheless, it must be done.”
Hadn’t he heard her? Or was it that to a man like Salvatore, whose family owned one of the most prestigious and sought-after security firms in the world, the concept of not having any money did not compute?
He being richer even than her father, she supposed that was exactly the case.
“We can’t.” She sighed and rubbed her eyes with her thumb and forefinger, for a moment not caring if her enemy saw this sign of weakness. She was so tired. “Signor di Adamo is trying to hold on to the store for his grandson, but it gets harder every year.”
“The auction for the crown jewels will bring in funds.”
“Yes. A great deal of money that he needs very badly, but I don’t know if even that will be enough. The security system isn’t the only thing needing improvement around here.”
She thought of the building’s leaky plumbing and dodgy wiring. It was old, original to the store’s inception. She shuddered to think of what sort of improvement Signor di Adamo’s private apartments required.
“I will take care of it.”
“He won’t let you.” One of the things that had drawn her to the old man was his fie
rce sense of independence so like her own. His pride would never accept charity.
She said so, but Salvatore just shrugged. Not really a smile, the tiny tilt at the corner of his lips reminded her of things she would rather forget.
“I know how to work around a man’s pride.”
“I don’t doubt it. You’re good at manipulating people.”
He shook his head. “I will not allow you to draw me into another argument, cara.”
“I don’t want to argue with you.” It was true. The rage that had sprung up before was all but burned out. She just wanted him to be gone.
“This is good.”
For a moment her mind could not comprehend what he had said until she realized she had only spoken aloud regarding not wanting to argue, not her desire for him to be gone. “I don’t want to see you at all.”
“We cannot have everything, dolcezza.”
Dolcezza. Sweetness. He’d used to call her that because he said she tasted and acted so sweet. It scraped at wounds that were no longer raw and bleeding, but were not anywhere near healed. “Don’t call me that.”
“Where are the crown jewels now?” he asked, as if she’d never spoken.
“I told you. They’re in the vault.”
His body went taut, his attitude one of extreme alertness. “You’ve taken possession of them already?”
“Yes.”
“Your father thought they were not being transported from Mukar for a week or more.”
“That is what the former crown prince wished. He told everyone they were being transported just before the auction. He hoped to make the transfer in secret. It worked.”
“Just because I did not know you had them does not mean no one is aware they have been brought here.”
“They’re safe in the vault,” she repeated stubbornly.
“Perhaps, but you are not safe.”
He kept harping on it and she knew he was right, but she didn’t know what to do about it. And frankly, when she’d negotiated for the auction, she hadn’t really cared about her safety one way or another.
The numbness after losing the baby and Salvatore had worn off, but a certain malaise of spirit lingered on. Sure personal happiness was out of her reach, she would risk anything, do anything to ensure it for a man who had been so good to her. Signor di Adamo.
Salvatore had moved without her realizing, while her mind had been off in its own little world. His hand brushed her cheek and she felt the gentle touch like a branding that both burned and physically hurt.
“I will never leave you alone.”
Leaving her dazed from that small interchange, he spun on his heel and left her office.
Chapter Two
SALVATORE waited for Elisa to come out of her office. She’d spent the remaining hours of the afternoon working on the auction while Salvatore and Signor di Adamo discussed new security features for the store and measures to keep both the old man and Elisa safe until the crown jewels were sold. Signor di Adamo handled customers as well, showing his grandson the ropes of the business, while Salvatore made phone calls on his mobile and ordered necessary equipment to be installed immediately.
It had been a pleasant afternoon, but the next few minutes did not promise to be so pleasant. He had to tell Elisa that he was going home with her. He had no choice, but he doubted very much she would see things that way.
She didn’t.
Five minutes later she was glaring at him as if he had suggested something obscene. “No way.” She shook her head so hard part of her hair slipped out of the French twist on the back of her head. It fell over one green eye and she impatiently shoved it aside. “You are not going home with me.”
“If anyone knows of the jewels’ whereabouts, neither you nor your employer will be safe. He will be staying with his daughter and son-in-law. You have no one.”
An expression came into her eyes when he said that, a bleakness of spirit he did not like and one he did not associate with the fiery woman who had been his lover. “I don’t have you either. Wouldn’t have you. Even as a misguided gift from my father. You aren’t going with me and that’s final.”
With that she marched past him and out the door, leaving Signor di Adamo to lock up. Salvatore cursed and followed her.
“At least allow me to drive you home.” He would take care of getting in the door of her apartment once they arrived.
“I’ll catch the bus.” And then she was running to do just that and Salvatore felt a wave of shock as he realized she’d thwarted him with less effort than it would have taken a five-year-old.
Furious, he rapped out orders to one of the men he’d brought in during the afternoon. He would see to Signor di Adamo and his grandson’s safe journey home.
Salvatore slung himself behind the wheel of his black four-wheel drive and followed that damn city bus all the way to Elisa’s apartment.
He was not in a good mood when he got there.
Elisa stepped off the bus and a very unpleasant word slipped past lips stiff with frustration.
Salvatore waited for her in front of her building with the look of a man ready to do violence. Only, if she knew anything about him, she knew he would not physically harm her. Even in the midst of his rage over the baby, he had kept his blows to the verbal variety.
All the same, she couldn’t help the shiver of apprehension that skittered down her spine.
She approached the entrance warily, her eyes fixed on the spot of the red-painted door visible to the left of Salvatore’s tall frame. If she could just get inside that door and away from the man in front of it, everything would be fine.
She stopped a foot away because he hadn’t moved.
Nor had he spoken, but his body language spoke volumes and all of it bad.
“Do not ever run from me again.”
She allowed herself to meet his gaze, pretending not to feel the shards of pain such a motion caused her deep inside. “Go take a hike. You don’t dictate to me.”
“Someone needs to. You have no concern for your own safety.”
Her eyes widened at that. “What could possibly happen to me on the city bus?”
“If you don’t know, you are more naïve than a woman of your age should be.” Then he proceeded to spell out in graphic detail what could have happened to her, covering the range from a sex fiend accosting her to being kidnapped and forced to give her kidnappers the crown jewels.
When he was done, she fought both nausea and irritation.
“And if you think you are any safer in your apartment, you are a fool,” he added when she remained silent.
“You’re assuming other people know the jewels are at Adamo Jewelers, but there’s nothing to indicate that is the case.”
“Assume the worst and plan accordingly.” He made no apologies for his cynicism and she hadn’t expected him to.
Even when she’d loved him she’d recognized that he had a very pessimistic view of the world.
“Even if someone does know and wants to steal the jewels, the vault is on a timed lock mechanism,” she said with satisfaction. “Signor di Adamo cannot open it before nine in the morning, no matter how much he might want to.”
“That will not prevent you from being used as a pawn in procurement of the jewels.”
She sighed, knowing that in the most extreme scenario he could be right, but she was unwilling to believe the risk was all that great. “Please move.” She dug for her door key in her purse. “I want to go inside.”
“Have you heard nothing I have said?”
“I heard. I just don’t believe.” Aha. She’d found it. She withdrew the key and looked pointedly at the door behind him.
“Tough.” Then in another one of those moves that always took her by surprise, he took her key. It was like the first time he’d kissed her. She hadn’t been expecting that either.
She grabbed for the key ring, but he was already unlocking the door. Stepping back, he ushered her inside, her keys still firmly in his hand.
She stepped just over the threshold and then put her hand out. “Give it to me.”
He ignored her outstretched hand and followed her inside, forcing her to move backward or be in the unenviable position of touching him again.
“It’s a secured building, for goodness’ sake.”
“A locked entryway is not secure. Particularly one with a lock as old and easy to pick as that one.”
The whole building was old and she liked it. Her apartment had character and the rent was cheap. She refused to live off of either of her parents, and Signor di Adamo could not afford to pay her what she was worth.
“Stop showing off your security-guard skills and give me back my key. I’m hungry and tired. I want to get to my apartment, make my dinner and go to bed.”
“I am a security specialist, not a guard.”
Not to mention being heir apparent to the whole company when his father decided to abdicate the throne.
“Whatever.” She wasn’t going to ask for the key again.
It was a good thing she didn’t because it would have been wasting her breath. He started down the hall, his long-legged stride eating the distance to her apartment quickly.
When he stopped in front of her door, she looked at him askance. “How did you know my number?”
She had moved shortly after their breakup, unable to stand the memories the other apartment had elicited.
He rolled his dark brown eyes. “It’s not that hard to find your address. In fact, give me fifteen seconds on a computer and I can find pretty much anyone’s. However, in this case, I simply asked your father.”
“Oh.” She hadn’t told her father about her brief affair and its disastrous end.
He would have gone ballistic and she had not been emotionally prepared to deal with any more at the time.
“You did not tell him about us,” Salvatore said, mirroring her thoughts.
She shrugged and watched with a feeling of inevitability as he unlocked the apartment door with the other key on the ring.
“I didn’t tell him about the baby either.” She didn’t know why she admitted that.
“Neither did I.”
“I know.”