Killer Romances
Page 22
Franco had long known about the unusual payments first Don Rinaldo, then Don Enrico had been making to Edmund Tyrell, their attorney in England. What he didn’t know was why, as he’d told Vincenzo Andretti. Now it was time to investigate. Time to unearth the worms beneath the dirt.
Franco’s arduous review of the books revealed that the payments had gone out to Tyrell every month at the same time for twenty-two years, before stopping five years ago. But these payments weren’t the attorney’s usual retainer. That was a separate payment. This one was marked Personal, meaning it was to be counted against the don’s compensation.
Calling Tyrell and inquiring about the payments would of course be fruitless. The man was as tight-lipped as any man of honor. And making such a call would tip off Don Enrico to his inquiry. There had to be another way to find the truth.
Franco puzzled over this matter for days. The answer came while Franco was staring at another series of unusual payments to Tyrell. These payments started nine years ago and stopped after four years. They were also marked Personal, but with a second notation, “C.U.,” and were for varying amounts. Since the amounts weren’t round numbers, they must be payments for something specific.
What could “C.U.” mean? Franco racked his mind for names of associates with those initials, names of businesses, names of places. But nothing came to mind. Because both series of payments stopped five years ago, the payments to the mysterious “C.U.” in the spring and the others at the end of the same year, the timing suggested these payments were somehow linked.
Taking another tack, Franco dug into Don Enrico’s trips to England. Perhaps something about his meetings with Tyrell would yield him a clue. At first, he saw nothing. Then he noticed a coincidence. About five years ago, Don Enrico had traveled to England, visited Tyrell, and then made a side trip to Cambridge in the summer, to attend the commencement ceremony for the son of a business contact in London. “C.U.”—could that mean Cambridge University? Franco’s spine tingled. Four years of payments could indicate that Don Enrico had financed someone’s degree. But who? And why?
A phone call to the university, during which Franco posed as a government auditor looking into Edmund Tyrell’s books, elicited the answer to the first question. The payment was for tuition, on behalf of Mr. Nicholas Reginald Clarkston.
Franco’s heart stopped beating for a moment. Reginald. It was an alternate translation for Rinaldo. Could this man be Don Rinaldo’s child?
An online search of Nicholas Clarkston’s particulars made Franco’s pulse race. The payments to Tyrell commenced the same month Clarkston was born. Judging by the date of Clarkston’s birth, he was fathered while Don Enrico was at boarding school in London.
Franco was not one to believe in coincidences. Clarkston must be Don Enrico’s illegitimate son, not Don Rinaldo’s. Traditionally, at least one of the middle names given to a boy belonged to his grandfather. Thus, Reginald.
But he needed proof. He ordered a copy of Nicholas Clarkston’s birth certificate. Since U.K. law dictated that only a paper version of the certificate could be ordered, it would take at least five days to arrive. Five long days, but then he’d have proof, assuming the father’s name was listed. Proof Don Enrico couldn’t refute or deny.
A further search for details about Nick Clarkston yielded another interesting tidbit: Clarkston had recently started to work at Interpol. Perhaps that too could work in Franco’s favor. If he didn’t get his justice the way he preferred, perhaps he could turn the son against the father.
Franco flushed with triumph. He would have his vengeance. An eye for an eye. A son for a daughter. And he knew just who would help him achieve his justice: Carlo Andretti.
Kate and Enrico arrived at the private airstrip later than intended, but Enrico told her they could make up the time in the air. Soon they were aloft and winging south. A flight attendant brought them drinks and a light breakfast, then left them alone.
Enrico reached over and took her hand, saying nothing. What was he thinking about? Probably trying to figure out what to do about Carlo, now that he wasn’t marrying Delfina.
Did she have any right to raise an objection to such a marriage, when she wasn’t sure she wanted to stay with him? What if she decided to leave? What if he couldn’t arrange something else with Carlo? What if she’d just doomed them both, and all for nothing?
They landed in Naples and took a car to Sorrento, where they shopped and had a late and very leisurely lunch before boarding a private boat for the trip to Capri. The sun was starting to set when they left Sorrento. As they motored away from the coast, Kate looked at the houses clinging to the gold-washed cliffs. She leaned against Enrico while they stood in the back of the boat, and he put his arms around her. Despite all the danger, despite their troubles, Italy was seducing her with its charms. Hadn’t Enrico said that worry was a useless emotion? She sighed. “Italy is amazingly gorgeous.”
He squeezed her tight and nuzzled her neck. “You would not love Naples in the middle of a garbage strike in August.”
She laughed. “I suppose not.” She turned in his arms. “Doesn’t the Mafia control the garbage pickups?”
He nodded. “The Camorra control everything in Naples.”
“Then why do they have strikes?”
“Money. They go on strike, people agree to pay more to end it.”
A thought occurred to her. “Are we in danger here?”
“Not in Capri. The Camorra know the tourists butter their bread. We might be in some danger in Naples. But they would take offence if Carlo tried anything on their territory.”
Kate nestled closer to Enrico as the wind whipped around them. “The idea of us being hurt is taking all the fun out of this trip.”
“Forget Carlo. Forget all of it. Just be with me.” He pulled her into the shelter of his body, squeezing her tight.
“With Antonio and Ruggero around, how can I possibly forget?”
He stepped back and looked at her. “Listen, mia cara. We will take some time for ourselves.”
“Just you and me,” she whispered, her voice husky with promise.
“When we get to the hotel…” he murmured, his voice trailing off, the hunger in his gaze speaking for him.
“When we get to the hotel… what?” she teased.
“You know.” And to make sure she did, he started whispering in her ear all the things he would do as soon as they were alone.
Kate smiled at his imagination. She stretched up on tiptoe and kissed him, softly at first, then with heat. Damn it, just like all the New Year’s resolutions she’d ever made, she was going to break the one not to have sex with him, wasn’t she? And she wasn’t going to feel that bad about it either.
As they pulled into the harbor, she looked up at the cliffs of Capri towering above them, encircling the bay. Houses of all sorts perched on those cliffs, nearly every square inch occupied, but somehow plenty of green survived and thrived, giving the island a tropical air.
They left the boat, luggage in hand, and headed for the funicular station. The little tram would take them up to the top, to Capri town proper, where no cars were allowed, not even for rich men like Enrico. Not even here, where money certainly talked, was Enrico any different from anyone else. Except that he was armed. And so were his guards.
Kate sighed, taking his hand as they boarded the funicular. They stood by the window, both holding the same pole as the tram started ascending. She watched greenery and homes pass by, caught the blue-purple of wisteria, the red and pink of bougainvillea, the creams and pastels of the houses, the bright colors starting to fade as twilight descended.
By the time they started walking to their hotel, it was full dark, the narrow winding stone streets romantically lit by the stores and restaurants that lined them. Enrico kept hold of her hand, his strong fingers locked around hers, giving them a light squeeze now and then when she remarked on something that delighted her. She felt a bit like a child with a father for whom none of this was new
, except when she looked up at Enrico’s face, she saw delight on his features as well. She was finally able to relax, to believe they were safe. Inhaling deeply, she breathed in the scent of jasmine and freesia. The lingering heat coming off the stone streets and buildings kept the air warm, and the humidity of the climate raised a sheen of perspiration on her skin, making her palm go damp in Enrico’s hand.
He motioned with his chin to a large whitewashed building before them. “We are almost there.”
Kate picked out the words “Grand Hotel Quisisana” set in gold letters on the building’s face. Grand it certainly was. The naughty nothings Enrico had whispered to her on the boat echoed in her ears, and she quickened her pace, tugging on his hand, grinning up at him. Antonio jogged ahead of them, while Ruggero stayed behind.
Enrico handled their check-in. Antonio and Ruggero had the rooms flanking theirs. Kate nearly gagged at the cost of taking three ocean-view terrace rooms, then she forced it out of her head. Money was no object here. Fun and pleasure were the order of the day—or night, as it were.
She followed the men down the hall to the left of the lobby. A short set of stairs took them to their suites, which were spacious and high ceilinged with large marble baths. Kate barely set her purse down before Enrico shut and locked the door behind them. Then he was scooping her up and dropping her onto the king size bed.
He rolled atop her, his mouth and hands everywhere at once. Kate returned his fire for a few minutes, but when he started to unbutton her blouse, she stopped him. “Wait.”
He looked up from kissing her neck, eyebrows raised. “Wait?”
She bit her lower lip teasingly. If she was going to break her vow, she was going to make it count. “We should have dinner first, maybe go for a walk.”
Laughing, he questioned her. “Are you serious?”
“We just got here. Let’s enjoy it a bit before we start enjoying each other.”
Without a word, he pushed her skirt up and slipped a hand between her legs, his fingers shoving aside the thin fabric of her panties so he could touch her. When he encountered the moisture built up inside her, he said, “You seem to be of two minds about the subject.”
When he starting stroking her, she gasped. Clamping her legs shut on his hand, she trapped it. Then she reached down and pulled his hand away. He wasn’t going to distract her so easily. “Not yet.” She sat up and kissed him. “Waiting will be good. You’ll see.”
Enrico groaned in frustration. He wanted to push harder. If it wasn’t for Vincenzo, he could have. Damn it. He hated being on eggshells with her. He wanted to be more insistent, more demanding, more in control. But that could wait. He didn’t have to have everything now, as much as his body argued otherwise.
He tried once more, giving her his best pleading puppy eyes, which she resisted, shaking her head. “Okay,” he said on an exhale, rolling away from her. “Shall we eat here or go exploring?”
“Exploring.”
He smiled. “I was hoping you would say that.” He was in no mood for the three-hour plus dinner they’d get at the hotel’s restaurant, as exquisite as the food was. He had only one thing on his mind, and he wanted it as soon as possible, Kate’s wanderlust be damned.
She zipped into the bathroom, checking her hair and makeup and straightening her clothes as he waited for her on the bed, mulling over ways to short-circuit her plans. Perhaps a quick bite in a café he knew around the corner? Then a brief stroll around the hotel grounds?
Kate came back with her purse. “I’m ready.”
Another possibility occurred to him. “The hotel has excellent room service.”
“No room service today.” She extended her hand to him. “Come on. The longer you pout, the longer it’s going to be before we’re back here.”
He took her hand, rising with a long-suffering sigh. “True.” He brought her hand up to his lips, brushing her knuckles with his mouth. “It is just that I have been thinking about you all day.”
“Another hour or two won’t hurt.”
“For you, perhaps.”
She skimmed her hand across the crotch of his trousers, making his half-hard cock tingle from her touch. “All good things to those who wait,” she whispered. He chuckled at her audacity. The old Kate was back. Then she turned and tugged on his hand, urging them out of the room.
“Can we leave Antonio and Ruggero here?” she asked as he closed the door.
“Yes, it is safe.” He’d told her a small lie earlier; Capri wasn’t safe because of the Camorra; they didn’t have even a toehold in Capri. Capri was safe because it was Don Battista’s domain. Not even Carlo was rash enough to challenge him.
Enrico thought enviously of the night ahead for his guards. Room service and porn. Then again, he’d be coming back to the real thing. He hoped. He ducked his head in Ruggero’s room and let him know they were going out, then they left the hotel.
As they walked the stone streets hand in hand, Enrico’s head filled with images of him and Kate, what he wanted to do to her, with her. The sounds of it, the sights. The scent of her mingling with the scent of him. The way she’d feel in his arms, underneath him, above him, pressed between him and the walls of their room. He wanted her in all ways, in every way possible. And he wanted her now. Except they weren’t alone.
They wandered for a while, Kate undeterred by Enrico’s suggestions of where to eat. Realizing she wasn’t going to be denied, he eventually gave up. He was just going to have to be good and hope she gave him what he wanted sooner rather than later.
Kate finally settled on a small, crowded café. Enrico slipped the waiter several bills to ensure expedited service. He was watching Kate read the menu, when he felt her hand just above his knee. Madonna, he thought, noting no change in her expression as her hand slid up his leg. It lingered at the juncture of his thighs, but her fingers didn’t move. When he placed his hand over hers, she withdrew. Ah, so it was her way, or no way. Two could play that game.
He ordered a Caprese salad to start, eating it with his fingers when it arrived. He popped a mozzarella and basil covered tomato in his mouth, licking the sweet balsamic vinegar and olive oil off his fingers and thumb as he looked at Kate.
She smiled. “Trying to seduce me, are you?”
He said nothing and wiped a dot of oil from his chin with his index finger, then sucked the oil from his skin. He ran a thumb across his lower lip, then picked up another tomato, offering it to her. “You must try this.”
She leaned forward and opened her mouth, accepting what he offered. Chewing slowly, she held his gaze, watching as he licked his fingers again. He reached out and wiped up a little vinegar from the corner of her mouth, then used his tongue to clean his finger. “Delicious, no?” he asked.
She nodded and watched him pick up another tomato, a smile playing with her lips. He was sure he had her thinking about what else his tongue could do.
Leaning forward, she placed her hand on his thigh again, but didn’t move it. Shifting her weight slightly and giving his quad a squeeze, she brought her lips to his ear. “What if we didn’t go back to the room?”
His cock twitched at the suggestion. “Do you have somewhere else in mind?”
“I’m sure we can find some quiet, secluded nook somewhere.” Her hand slid higher. Almost, but not quite there.
Enrico felt a sheen of sweat building on his forehead and upper lip. This was definitely more fun than staying in the room. Definitely.
They finished their meal in rapid order, Enrico hardly remembering a word they exchanged. His whole focus was on her. On Kate’s hand on his thigh, on the way her other hand occasionally toyed with the neck of her blouse or ran along the base of her throat. Or twisted the damp hair off the back of her neck. Dio, how he wanted to kiss her in all the places she touched. How he wanted her hand on his leg to move higher. But waiting had its benefits. He could see that now.
He paid the bill and took her hand, starting toward the darker end of the street, where it turned o
ff into a residential area. Once they were in the shadows, he pressed her up against a wall, kissing her hard and deep, grinding his hips into her. She let out a moan and he smiled against her lips. “Who is eager now?” he teased.
She nipped at his lower lip playfully, then pushed him away and took off running, rounding a corner that led down to the beach. He loped after her, smiling when he heard her laughter, feeling both the urgency of sex and the excitement of being free and on his own in the dark. When was the last time he’d been like this? Years and years. Always it had been one worry after another. He hadn’t taken a real vacation in far too long.
Kate dashed down a lane lined with trees, then popped through a gate that opened onto the beach. Enrico followed her, his shoes slipping in the sand. When she stopped to remove her sandals, he caught up to her. Wrapping her in his arms, he hoisted her off the ground and twirled her around as she shrieked with laughter.
Setting her down, Enrico smoothed the hair back from her face and kissed her, his tongue slipping into her mouth. When she sucked on it, he felt the sensation all over his body.
After they parted, both breathing fast, she said, “Let’s find someplace.”
He took her hand and headed for a thicket of trees. When they reached the low stone wall edging the beach, he helped her over it, then braced his arms on top and swung his legs over. “Not bad for an old man,” she teased him.
“Old man,” he growled, kissing her with force, cupping her buttocks in his hands and pressing her against his erection. “Does that feel like an old man?” He didn’t wait for an answer. He took her hand again, tugging her up the hill, into the trees. Grass grew thick and long there, brushing against their legs.
Kate looked around and apparently decided it was secluded enough. “Here,” she said, stopping and putting both her hands on his chest.