Learning to Trust

by Lynne Connolly

  “Sure you are, honey. I booked us a table somewhere nice.”

  “Where?”

  “Sardi’s.”

  “I thought they were closed Mondays?” His father’s gaze remained indulgent, but sharper. Oh, God, he was trying to get her out of here. “In fact, I’m certain.”

  Gary shrugged. “Then maybe it wasn’t. I used speed dial. Maybe I put the wrong place on the number.”

  “If you did, it’d be the first time you ever made a mistake like that. C’mon, Gary, I’ve never known you to make one mistake on that mini computer you call a cell phone. So what gives?” She wasn’t mistaken—his voice had sharpened. “You’re my son, but don’t kid yourself I won’t take steps.”

  About what? She had no idea, but cinched close to Gary as she was, she felt him tense. “Okay, Dad, you win.” He glanced at Anna. “But I wanted at least a try at something more acceptable. I booked a room.”

  The sharp look remained. “Where?”

  “The same place.”

  “Take her into her bedroom. Or yours. Why waste money?”

  “I wanted to treat her nice.”

  Ritchie snorted. “You think she’d notice?”

  Anna laughed. “I had to throw her out because she kept hitting on my boyfriends.” She covered Ritchie’s hand with her own. Interesting that she wasn’t wearing her usual fistful of diamonds. Had she hocked them? “Sorry, darling.”

  Ritchie slipped his hand out from under hers. “That’s okay. I knew you were a whore when I married you.”

  “What?” Anna’s hand tightened, clenched.

  “I married you for the money I thought you had,” Ritchie said, speaking as if he were making a remark on the weather. “Then I discover it’s all in trust for your daughter. And you didn’t tell her. What did you expect?”

  Anna got to her feet. “What does it matter?”

  “Then I’ll tell you. You expected her to die and then you’d get the cash. Not a bad plan, except she escaped before you could finish the job.” He held up a hand when she opened her mouth to speak. “Oh I know you didn’t push the drugs on to her. You didn’t inject her yourself. You didn’t have to, did you? But once she showed her weakness, you didn’t stop her. Didn’t try to get her into rehab. I did a study before I married you, found out more than you wanted anyone to know. But darling, it stops here. Unless you behave yourself, that is.” He smiled, all the worse because he seemed to display genuine humor. “Some things about you I admire, but now is the time for us to pull together as a family.” He grinned at his son. “Ain’t that right, Gary?”

  “Sure it is, Dad.”

  “Together we’ve done some interesting things, haven’t we?”

  “If you say so.” Gary cleared his throat. “I’m guessing I’ve done more than I know? Signed documents that had more than they should have on them?” His father smiled and inclined his head in a slow nod. Gary shrugged. “Whatever. And now I’m taking this little sweetheart out to a hotel room where I’ll fuck her blind. Then I have plans. Any objections?” He raised a brow.

  Ritchie opened his hand, palm up. “None at all. Have fun, kids.”

  Gary got to his feet and held out his hand. When she put hers in it, he hauled her up. She landed against him a tad heavily and he laughed, clasping her close. “I always meant to have her, since I saw her get off that plane. And the trust fund makes everything sweeter. Let’s go.”

  “I’ll call you.” Ritchie watched them narrowly. “Don’t do anything stupid.”

  “I don’t intend to. Only what we discussed.” Gary led her out of the flat.

  After the door closed, she breathed a sigh of relief and went to pull away, but Gary dragged her back. “No. You need my help, or you’ll fall over.”

  “I’m not high.”

  He gripped her now, so she couldn’t get away and bent his head to nuzzle her. When she would have jerked away, his hold tightened and he shoved her against the wall by the door. He kissed her neck, her ear, and she felt the familiar panic overwhelm her. She’d sworn never to let this happen to her again. He was too close for her to bring her knee up. Maybe she could get her hand up and shove it against his nose.

  But before she managed, she heard one word, murmured against her ear. “Cameras.”

  They were watching them. Forcing breath into her panicked body, she knew she had to trust him. Either that or go back into that apartment and cope with the ugliness in there. And the danger. This was worse than she’d thought. So she lifted her head and let Gary kiss her. His hands roamed over her body, spreading over her waist and her ass, but after another kiss, he drew back. “Come on. I got us a room. Let’s go use it.”

  Remembering to retain her illusion of being drugged up, she let him help her into the elevator.

  A cab waited outside. Gary bent and glanced in the window, then opened the door and lifted her inside. She found herself sandwiched between Gary and Jon.

  She went into Jon’s arms with a relief she couldn’t hide, didn’t want to. “Why the subterfuge?”

  “We learned a little more than we knew before.” Jon held her close, safe, protected. “Quite a lot, actually. And it meant we’d sent you into more danger than we thought. I wanted you out of there, now, but I couldn’t go without blowing the story about you spending the night with Gary. So he came and got you.”

  “What is it? Is my mom in danger?” It beat her why she should care, after what she just heard. But she did.

  “Perhaps. It’s largely up to her. I’m only glad we got you out of there.”

  She snuggled in. “So what happens now?”

  “How does Las Vegas sound? My mother will want a society wedding, but that will take far too long.”

  “You’d deprive your mother of her finest hour?”

  Jon chuckled. “I think she’ll be glad if it’s quick and quiet. All hell is about to break loose.”

  Chapter Twenty

  Ritchie and Anna Farina were arrested. So was Gary. The authorities released him on bail fairly quickly, and Ritchie and Anna shortly after. Fraud was the least of it.

  The following day Lina sat in the circle of Jon’s arms on the wide sofa in his apartment. Jon was flicking through the stations, finding one with a rolling news service. When he found it, they sat through a few other items of varying interest before Ritchie’s mug shot flashed up on the screen. The impersonal voice of the announcer floated over the picture.

  “The bodies of businessman Ritchie Farina and his wife Anna were found in their apartment at the Dakota building earlier today. Foul play is not suspected.”

  Lina reached for Jon’s hand. He took it and gripped it tightly. She couldn’t seem to breathe deeply. Lost the knack. Could Gary have done this, taken matters into his own hands? Gary had proved both tougher and more vulnerable than she’d imagined. Aware his father was involved in murky business, he’d made sure he could handle a gun and defend himself in hand-to-hand combat. But he hadn’t protected his heart in the same way. Seeing his father destroyed like this had given him a hard outer shell, one he only relaxed when he was around people he trusted. People he could count on the fingers of one hand.

  Jon took his attention off the screen and focused on her. He gripped her shoulders, helping her to stay upright. “Look at me, Lina. Only me. Remember I love you, that we’ll be happy together. I’ll never leave you.”

  No, he wouldn’t. And she didn’t have to run away from anything anymore. Slowly the dots before her eyes faded and she could breathe again. All the time the TV was squawking, but when Jon reached for the remote again, she put her hand on his arm. “No. Please. I’m okay now.”

  Any feelings Lina had for her mother had died that day when she’d heard her calmly discussing her daughter’s death. She didn’t have to pretend for him.

  The screen showed the broadcaster’s face, her serious expression and carefully made-up appearance belying any emotion. But her eyes sparked, revealing her hunger to know more. A society scandal. It would sell
copy, be all over the Internet, the TV, the newspapers. They’d be mobbed.

  “Mr. Farina’s stepdaughter, Bellina Mazzanti Forde, a wild child of New York society, is to marry businessman Jon Brantley. Today’s news will come as a shock to them.”

  “You’d better believe it,” Jon muttered. “I’ll get in touch with my PA and he’ll set up some scheduled interviews, if you feel up to it. Absolutely nothing else. Agreed?”

  She nodded, watching the screen. A shot of the exterior of the Dakota followed, then the camera zoomed in on an apartment window. She had no idea if it was the right one, and she guessed the film crew didn’t, either. She’d never bothered to look at it from the outside. “It wasn’t suicide, was it? Ritchie wouldn’t do that. He’d sacrifice anybody to win.”

  “It appears that Mr. Farina killed his wife, and then himself in a suicide pact he explained in a letter he left. The letter has not yet been made public, but we understand Mr. Farina was facing the demise of the company he spent a lifetime building. Furthermore, he has recently seen his doctor for a reason we are not officially allowed to know.”

  The shot changed to a man in a white coat with the legend “Dr. Reginald Pickitt” underneath. Through Lina’s mind rang the wholly inappropriate “it won’t get better if you pick it.” She wanted to laugh, realized it was shock and suppressed the urge. Dr. Pickitt pronounced that Ritchie had the slight stoop associated with someone with a muscle-wasting disease. “It’s highly likely that he was diagnosed recently.”

  “He was completely healthy,” Lina protested.

  “But it’s a great excuse, isn’t it?” Jon said. “A nice way of tying it all up. If I were you, I’d say something vague that will confirm the speculation.” He paused and gripped her hand tighter.

  A knock at the door startled them into action. Jon stood and, after telling her to go into their bedroom, he went to see who it was. A moment later he called her back.

  Gary stood in the center of the room. The TV was still on, but muted. Pictures of the Dakota, and then John Lennon flashed up. They were probably setting up a “legend,” about people who died there. There’d be ghost stories next.

  She didn’t hesitate, but gave him a welcome hug. “They didn’t arrest you?” Lina wouldn’t ask if he’d done it. If he had, she wouldn’t blame him. He’d suffered as much as she had. More, because she didn’t feel sad, just knew she should be feeling that way. And she had Jon.

  Gary shook his head. “I had a cast-iron alibi. I was in an interrogation room with the CIA, explaining the company accounts for them. I’ve cooperated fully. Dad and your mother were seen alive dining at the Scinto Rooms last night, before I went in. They were discovered before the CIA released me.”

  “But you could have had it done,” Jon said. He curved an arm around her waist, but Lina wasn’t sure who was supporting whom. His hand shook before he firmed it around her. But he’d never backed off, never been anything but totally supportive. They’d faced the press together, they’d moved in together.

  “I could, but I didn’t.”

  Lina knew one thing for sure and now, standing before her, was the one man who could give her an informed opinion. “I don’t think my mother would have killed herself. Would your father have done it, then turned the gun on himself?”

  Gary glanced away but then met her gaze. “No, he wouldn’t. He’d have kept fighting. Would have turned dirty, if he had to. He might even have decided to turn state’s evidence if it saved his neck.”

  “So it could have been the Colleghi.”

  Gary shrugged. “That’s pretty much certain. They’d want to tie up loose ends.”

  “You’re taking the news very calmly,” Jon said.

  “Yeah, but inside I’m dying,” Gary commented drily. “I can’t afford to let my guard down right now. Maybe ever.”

  “Are you okay?” Jon asked in that laconic way men used when they liked each other. “Anything they can find?

  “They won’t find anything unless the Colleghi have been stupid enough to try to pin anything on me. If they have, there’s a trap waiting for them.”

  “You’ve cooperated fully, then.”

  He shrugged and ran a hand over his close-cropped hair. “Nothing else I could do. Either that or go over to the dark side.”

  “Were you ever tempted?” she asked suddenly.

  He paused and met her gaze, his own warm with friendship and just a little more. “I’m not perfect.” But he didn’t answer her question. “Now I have the funeral to get through. The press will be out in force.”

  “So do I.” She swallowed and Jon cinched her tighter. “I’ll be dignified. Truthfully, I don’t feel what I should for a parent. She stopped being my mother years ago.” While she felt a pang of sadness that her mother should meet her end in that way, she was too honest to pretend great grief. Her mother had prostituted her, driven her to take drugs and then welcomed her back, but only for her money. Sometimes blood meant very little. Lina had found more kindness and concern in the cold politeness of her future mother-in-law than she ever had with her own mother.

  “Yeah. In a way, I’ll miss the old man.” Gary grimaced. “He had a great turn of phrase. Laconic to the max. And he never panicked, always coped with whatever came up. It was only the last year that you could see the panic set in, as the results went down. He never wanted to go back.”

  Silence fell. “It shouldn’t have happened that way,” she said. “How did it go wrong?” She didn’t expect an answer, but this time she got one.

  Jon touched her chin and she turned to look at him. “A series of bad decisions. It takes more than one, but one by one, they led to a life gone wrong. Let’s not do that.”

  “Okay, let’s not.”

  Abruptly he turned back to Gary but not before she’d seen the worry in his eyes. “What do you plan to do now? This won’t have helped your situation.”

  He shook his head. “It’s not done the business any good, but I can start again, I guess.”

  “You might not have to,” Jon said. Lina knew what was coming. He’d discussed everything with her.

  At Gary’s raised eyebrow, Jon explained. “Some of your booths are close to football stadiums and other sporting centers, right?” Gary nodded. “I’m moving into souvenir goods. Jerseys, signed footballs, that kind of thing. The stores where I’ve put the merchandise report good business, so I’m looking to expand. How would you feel about converting some of the booths you own to souvenir stalls?”

  “Fantastic,” Gary breathed. “Fucking fantastic.” A flush spread over his face, starting at the neck. “Sorry. This is the first good news I’ve had in weeks.”

  Jon extended his hand and immediately Gary put his own in it and wrung it heartily. “Thanks. Just thanks. I was going to sell off the lot, but I had ideas before all this happened. Ideas that need capital I don’t have. With this venture, I can go to the banks. Although I’ll still be a hard sell.” He paused. “I’m making big changes.”

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Lina hardly had time to notice her surroundings before Jon carried her through to the bedroom of their villa in Tahiti and laid her down on the bed. She wore her wedding dress, a floaty creation of light ivory silk that Jon hadn’t stopped touching since he saw her in it. He’d slid his hand down the length of her spine to her waist, held her against him, and only separated from her for the time it took them to promise to love and honor each other forever.

  After a few toasts, they’d left their guests and run back here, but Jon insisted on carrying her over the threshold. Lina had the sneaking suspicion that he’d do it again when they got back home, to his apartment in New York. But that wouldn’t be for a while yet. Because of the problems, he’d arranged to extend their honeymoon. A month to enjoy each other, loving and thinking of nothing else but their happiness. Starting now.

  Jon stepped back and admired her. When she would have sat up, he forestalled her. “No. I want to look at you.”

  “Then giv
e me something to look at.” She smiled at him, and slid her hand suggestively down her side.

  He moved to the bottom of the bed and picked up a remote. When he pushed a button, the drapes slid away, revealing their private pool and a lake beyond. It currently glittered fire, the effect of a truly spectacular sunset. The whole wall was glass.

  “So beautiful,” she said in a hushed voice.

  “Yes.” But he wasn’t looking at the sunset. He was looking at her.

  Keeping her gaze on his, her hands went to the front of her gown, where small pearl buttons teased with their torturous fastening. But she knew a secret he did not, and after the first three buttons, she pulled the studs apart.

  He gasped. Underneath she wore an almost virginal bra and panty set in ivory silk to match the gown, but the silk was so thin he’d be able to see the rosy nipples and the shadow of her pubic hair.

  If she’d left any pubic hair, that was.

  She wriggled, feeling the moistness between her legs, squirming to give herself a little release. The last few hours had proved a long session of arousal. Knowing what was to come, reading the desire in his eyes, she’d been dying for this moment. She wanted to rip all her clothes off, and his, and cram his cock into her. But she also wanted to take it slow, make it last.

  She opened her legs, despite her need for stimulation and murmured, “Take off your clothes. Now.”

  His answer sounded like a low growl, and it reverberated through her body. He obeyed her, stripping off the linen jacket and pants and his light silk shirt, kicking off his sandals. He was all she ever wanted to look at, wide-shouldered, aggressively masculine, heavily aroused. And hers.

  He came down on her before she could remove her underwear and kissed her, thrusting his tongue into her mouth with a possession she couldn’t deny. Didn’t want to. He pulled away and kissed her throat, then nipped her breast, making her gasp in response, before he flicked open the front fastening of her bra and devoured her. Sucking one nipple into his mouth, he cupped the other in one strong, hot hand, manipulating the nipple, twisting it and pinching it in the way he knew she loved.