Lost in Italy

by Stacey Joy Netzel

  “Run!”

  Chapter 5

  Trent followed Halli out the door. She stumbled and he grabbed the collar of his leather jacket to haul her up from her knees. Too late, he remembered it'd only been draped around her shoulders. The unexpected weightlessness threw him off balance, and he ended up a step ahead of her.

  He found his footing, reached back for the hand she stretched toward him, and jerked her back onto her feet. To their right lay a residential area, and to the left, the many quaint shops and businesses that made the village so old-world Italian. Tourists crowded the walkways during the evening dinner hour.

  Trent went left, half dragging Halli in his wake. If they could get lost in the crowd, eventually they could circle around to where he'd parked his black Mercedes.

  Alrigo Lapaglia and two other men burst through the door seconds before Trent and Halli rounded the corner of the closest building. She slowed up, but Trent pulled her forward. “They're right on our tail, sweetheart, don't quit on me now.”

  “Where are we going?”

  “Anywhere but here.”

  Trent took every turn he could, dodging people and vehicles. Twice they narrowly avoided being hit when he glanced behind to see how close their pursuers were.

  “You watch where we’re going,” Halli yelled over the ear-splitting screech of tires and blare of the horn after she slammed into his back the second time. “I’ll watch them!”

  Working together, they made their way through town. His lungs began to ache, his legs burned, and he could only imagine how she felt, with him yanking on her arm for the last five minutes.

  “I think we’ve lost them,” she panted a minute later.

  Trent eased up, glancing behind to reassure himself they were safe. The immediate area behind them settled back into a walk after their headlong dash, but a block and a half away, the man in the black leather jacket barreled around a corner and through the crowd in their direction.

  Renewed adrenaline surged through his body as he urged Halli back into a dead run. Just before they took another turn, Trent checked their progress. He caught sight of a large white truck in the intersection a block away. It slammed on its brakes, but not in time to avoid hitting Lapaglia. His body flew a good ten feet into the intersection. The scream of an onlooker echoed down the street.

  Trent felt no remorse for the man who’d killed his friend and didn’t wait to see if he got back up, either. He took the opportunity to duck into a shop. Halli gave a small squeak of surprise at the abrupt move, then abruptly clamped her mouth shut.

  They both fought to catch their breath as she stood close, pressed against his side while he surveyed the place. It was a gift shop, full of that over-priced souvenir knick-knack stuff tourists loved. Small plastic replicas of the surrounding mountains of Lago di Como, various cathedrals, and of course the unmistakable Leaning Tower of Pisa, cluttered a shelf directly in front of them; kept company by a row of key chains and Italy collector spoons.

  Trent propelled Halli in front of him, steering her around the displays to get away from the windows. Along the way, he snagged a brown sweatshirt off a rack and tossed it over Halli's shoulder so he could dig out some cash.

  His empty back pocket reminded him he’d never grabbed his wallet when he chased after Halli earlier. Just as quick, he recalled stuffing change in his pocket this morning at the espresso shop and pulled out a handful of Euros. For the first time he was thankful for the annoying coins he always felt should be bills.

  Halli frowned at the sweatshirt. “What’s this for?”

  He leaned down close to her ear while transferring money into her hand. “Pay the girl over there and put the shirt on. Make sure you keep something between you and the window.” Lapaglia may have been hit by a truck, but Trent didn’t want to take any chances.

  “Hey—find out if they have a back door,” he whispered after her.

  While she took care of the transaction, he stepped behind a mirrored column to remove his coveralls. He couldn’t help watching Halli across the room. She looked small, even next to the petite Italian clerk. Especially now that she wore clothes that actually fit her slender frame.

  His gaze lingered on the blue lettering stretched across the front of her tight shirt. What a shame she was going to cover up again. A corner of his mouth quirked up. Back at the house, he'd have bet money she wouldn't wear anything he'd left on the bed. He’d figured out Halliwell Sanders was a little uptight. And that was before he’d found the travel itinerary detailing her trip almost down to the minute.

  Wet & Wild was a very nice surprise.

  The shop girl leaned close to Halli. The two shared a smile, and the girl said something in heavily accented English. Halli laughed and shrugged. The sound, forced though it was, flowed over Trent's taut nerves, soothing even after it faded away. A genuine laugh from her would be something to enjoy.

  Halli caught his eye and motioned toward the back with her head before pulling the new shirt on. Once she’d adjusted the oversized hem below her hips, her smile retreated, leaving worry in its wake. Trent scooped up the coveralls and his jacket and made sure the front window was clear before following.

  Out in the alleyway, he tossed the coveralls into a dumpster. “What was so funny in there?”

  She frowned up at him from underneath his baseball cap. “I'm playing a part, remember? There's nothing funny about any of this.”

  “Right.”

  He took the hat from her head with one hand and untied her ponytail with the other. Wispy brown strands settled down around her oval face. A ray of setting sunlight revealed reddish-blonde highlights that he hadn’t noticed before she’d showered. The stunning color contrasted with the brown sweatshirt, making the garment appear even uglier. For just a moment, he had the urge to sift his fingers through her hair, to see if it was as soft as it looked.

  Shaking off the strange feeling, he jammed his hat on his head. “Let's go.”

  He led her back in the direction they'd come, careful to retrace their steps, but at the same time, not use the same route. Most especially, he wanted to give the accident scene a wide berth.

  After about a minute, she clutched his arm. “Why are you going this way?”

  “I parked near the station.”

  “We can't go back there,” she protested when he continued forward.

  “We don't have much of a choice.”

  “But it's not safe!”

  “Now you realize that.”

  She let go of his arm and stopped. Trent turned around to find her glaring at him, fists propped on her hips.

  “Don't be a jerk again.”

  He crossed his arms over his chest and leaned back on one foot. “Listen, I don't like the thought of it either, but unfortunately, I've only got two vehicles. One's by the police station, and the other is in my garage, full of bullet holes. Which one would you rather take to Milan?”

  She pressed her lips into a thin line and stalked past him. Trent shook his head as he caught up. She still didn't trust him. After he'd saved her butt twice already. What the hell would it take?

  About ten minutes later, he put a hand on her arm as they reached an intersection. “The station is down that way about two blocks. I’m parked on the other side a couple streets away, so we'll have to go around.”

  She remained silent, following his lead without resistance or comment. Finally. When he looked down and caught a look of exhaustion on her face, he was reminded of the fact that she wouldn’t have had any sleep since landing in the country.

  A twinge of sympathy increased his step. The poor girl still had a long night ahead of her once she reached the consulate. And God knew she had to be worried sick about her brother and sister.

  He breathed a sigh of relief at the sight of his car a few minutes later. "This is it," he said as he dug his keys from his pocket.

  She slumped against the passenger side of the Mercedes while he unlocked the door and opened it for her. She straightened,
then stepped back with a soft gasp, staring over his shoulder. A quick glance located the reason for her alarm and gave him his own jolt.

  Three intersections away, a police car turned onto their street and slowly drove toward them. They had no time to run. Nowhere to hide.

  Trent stepped closer to Halli, grasped both her arms and hauled her against him. He brought his mouth down on hers, betting the cop would ignore a passionate kiss and keep on driving. A hell of a gamble, but their only option.

  Wide blue eyes staring into his, Halli made a sound of protest deep in her throat. She fought against his tight embrace, but Trent knew it had to look authentic. He moved his lips over hers, trying to communicate his intentions with his eyes. If she'd just relax—

  Her foot jammed into his shin.

  “Stop it.”

  “Let me go!”

  “Just kiss me.”

  “No way—”

  “Kiss me before I get arrested for assault,” he growled against her mouth. “Or have you forgotten about the damn cops?”

  She stopped struggling and her eyes closed. Finally, the little idiot had figured it out.

  Trent felt her body relax by degrees, enough that he loosened his arms and rubbed his hands over her back for full visual effect. Her head tilted a little to the right. Her lips softened. Her arms stole up around his neck.

  Going into the kiss, he had every intention of keeping it an act. No tongue, all show. Keep his eyes open and once the cop passed, they'd be on their way. But her lips parted ever so slightly with a soft little sigh, and details began to register in his adrenaline-high brain. Her curves molded along his body, soft breasts crushed to his chest, slim hips snug against his.

  His peripheral vision recorded the police vehicle gliding by. The officer didn't even give them a second glance. When the car continued down the street and turned a corner, relief tightened his arms around Halli.

  God, her lips were so soft. He closed his eyes, savoring the sensation of a lipstick-free kiss. Compared to the women he usually dated, it was a rare, welcome treat. She smelled great, too, after her shower; all fresh with a hint of flowers. No cloying perfume to choke his lungs.

  One hand slid up to cup the back of her head, and he discovered her hair was indeed as soft as it looked. He ran the tip of his tongue along her lower lip as a test, uncharacteristically cautious with this mistrusting woman who'd resisted him at every turn. Something else he wasn’t accustomed to. Because, as she’d guessed, often all it took was a crook of his finger. A wink. A smile.

  Her hold around his neck tightened, pulling him closer as she opened to him without reservation. Trent forgot the cop; forgot their dire situation; forgot that earlier he’d claimed she wasn’t his type. He deepened the kiss, pushing his tongue inside her mouth. His taste buds registered a hint of espresso, but underneath, she was sweeter than he'd have imagined. Her tongue slid against his, advancing and retreating, teasing and seducing until his body responded to the rising passion.

  Trent spun to lean back against his car, pulling Halli with him. A groan rumbled in his chest. He slid both hands down her back and kept going until her butt filled his palms. Perfect. One swift move lifted her to ride his thigh. Desire pulsed harder and faster. His arms closed around her, pressing her body tight to his. It’d been forever since he’d enjoyed the simple act of kissing so much.

  Directly following that thought he became aware of the fact she no longer clung tight to his shoulders. In fact, she'd stopped participating altogether. He was kissing her now, just like at the beginning, but add tongue and minus the resistance. Before he could do more than withdraw his tongue, Halli spoke against his tingling lips.

  “Is he gone?”

  Trent opened his eyes to find her watching him, her expression calm, cool and collected. Heat flooded his face. He looked in the direction the cop had disappeared and practically dropped her as he straightened.

  “Yeah.” He cleared his throat and put some space between them. “He's gone.”

  She smoothed her hair back from her face and squared her shoulders. “Then let's go.”

  Let's go? That's it?

  What the hell just happened?

  His gaze narrowed on her face in the dim light of dusk, hoping to see some sort of crack in her stony expression. All she did was bend down and pick up his hat. He snatched it from her grasp and tugged it low over his eyes, further annoyed by the heat creeping up the back of his neck again. Damn. How did she remain so cool when hot little flames of desire still licked through his veins from the feel and taste of her?

  Trent stalked around to the driver's side of the car as she got in on her side. Hands folded neatly in her lap, she appeared completely unaffected. He bit back a growl. This rigid woman was the one who'd typed up that military precision travel itinerary. He'd chuckled when he first read it back at the house. Right now, it wasn’t so funny. His knuckles whitened on the wheel in his effort to keep from reaching over to shake her. Something to ruffle her feathers good.

  Apparently, it took bullets to do that. He clenched his jaw tight and shifted the car into gear.

  Halli thought her lungs would burst from trying to maintain a normal breathing rhythm. She'd freaked when he first kissed her. It'd been awhile, and he was Trent Tomlin! Then he'd explained why his mouth was locked on hers, and she'd been embarrassed beyond belief. Of course he wouldn't want to kiss her. It’d only been an act.

  She’d done her best to distance herself from anything her parents had taught her growing up, only to discover in the police station that acting was like riding a bike. Guess you never forget how and a little bit of back story can make it so easy to jump back in with both feet.

  She’d jumped alright. Put on a heck of a show for the cop, too, kissing Trent for all she was worth. And oh, God, it’d been nice. Really nice. She’d even felt the change in his kiss—kinda hard to ignore the evidence when he'd palmed her butt and ground against her.

  For one glorious, mind-numbing moment she was thrilled that she, of all people, could elicit such a response from one of the sexiest men on the planet. But, ingrained from the experiences of her youth was the hard-learned truth that reality was never very far away, and it was better to be prepared than to be blindsided.

  Reality was Trent was an international superstar while she was a nobody public television producer from small town Wisconsin. He’d been playing hero all day and was used to women falling at his feet. But no way was she going to be Trent Tomlin’s convenient plaything.

  No matter how amazing his kiss. No matter how hot his muscled body made her burn. No matter how much his sexy groans of arousal urged her to lend some truth to the T-shirt she wore underneath the hideous brown sweatshirt.

  Did it count that she was already halfway there? The second part of Wet & Wild would have to wait—if the day ever came that she decided to let loose and get a little wild.

  Trent drove and Halli stared out the window, determined to ignore the unsettling sensations in her body and focus on their serious situation. That's probably why she'd reacted to his kiss so strongly in the first place. Her senses were super-charged from the last six hours.

  Wow. Had it only been six hours ago that she'd met him? Six hours since she'd last seen Ben and Rachel?

  And just like that, guilt reared up and smacked her across the face. In the heat of the moment, she'd completely forgotten about them. Real nice, Halli.

  Trent's comment at the station came back to her, and she worried anew why her family hadn't checked into the hotel. Maybe they had by now? Maybe once she got to the consulate she'd be able to—

  A blue sign whizzed by on her side of the car. Halli sat up straight in her seat and whipped around to stare behind them. “Hey! That sign said Milano.” She faced forward again. There! Another sign, and an arrow, but Trent was in the wrong lane. She pointed to the sign.

  “You need to turn...there.”

  Disbelief exploded as he drove right past without slowing down. He didn't even
glance in her direction, only into the review mirror, then back to the road. What’s he doing?

  “You promised you'd take me to Milan.”

  “And I will.”

  “I want to go now.” When he didn’t respond, she demanded, “Turn around. Right now.”

  “God, you’re bossy,” he grumbled.

  A red haze blurred her vision. “I mean it!” She hauled off and smacked his arm in impotent frustration.

  “Ow.” He hunched his shoulder and tossed her a glare.

  “We had a deal! You promised, you lying, egotistical, conceited jerk!”

  Without warning, Trent swung the wheel hard to the right. Halli gave a squeak of alarm as she slammed against his shoulder. Once on a side road, he stomped on the brakes and the vehicle slid to a screeching halt.

  She pushed back into her own seat, only to have him lean over and glower in her face.

  “At some point in our cozy little relationship here, you're going to have to trust that I know what the hell I'm doing. Otherwise, it’s going to get real tempting to leave your ass on the side of the road.”

  His low tone and precise speech suggested he had a tight rein on his control. Though she was past the point that she thought he'd hurt her or follow through on his threat, it didn't mean she was any less intimidated. Not that she'd let him know that.

  She lifted her chin, hoping her glare covered any outward signs of anxiety. “If I’m such a ‘pain in the ass’, why didn’t you just leave me at the police station? You already have your precious video.”

  He stared into her eyes for one more second, then sat back in his seat and stepped on the gas. “Because I need you, sweetheart. It’s as simple as that.”

  Reality bit hard, no matter how much she thought she’d prepared for it. He wasn’t helping her because he was nice or even because he liked her. Only because needed her. Halli swallowed a surge of unexpected, and totally unwelcome, hurt feelings and faced the other reality. Like it or not, she needed him, too.