Lost in Italy

by Stacey Joy Netzel

  Ben swore under his breath. Seconds later, shattered glass sounded from the second floor. Somewhere in the house, a dog barked. Ben swore again, pulled the gun, and braced Rachel’s arm around his neck. As they started forward, he was struck with a sense of déjà vu. He couldn’t help but crack, “Just like old times, hey sis?”

  “Been a long time.”

  “Sure has. But we’re old pros. We can do this.”

  She soldiered on with him, but her ankle slowed them down. At the end of the villa wall, Ben took a quick look around the corner and spotted their Fiat rental in the drive. It’d been years since he’d hotwired a car, and never a foreign one. Shouts from inside the house indicated their absence had been discovered. A door slammed on the bottom level. There was no time for him to even try the car.

  “Come on, this way.”

  Rachel stumbled as they ran across the drive toward the neighboring property. Ben held her upright and saw she’d lost her other shoe. He fought against impatience and focused straight ahead. If they could get past the six foot high privacy hedge surrounding the villa, they might be able to get help.

  A deep, ferocious growl halted them in their tracks. Ben whirled, gun raised as he pushed Rachel behind him. Rachel’s shriek vibrated his eardrum at the sight of Nino pointing a gun at them while holding the leash attached to a huge black Rottweiler. The dog’s white teeth gleamed beneath curled, snarling lips. Drool dripped from massive jaws.

  “Drop the gun,” Nino ordered.

  Ben’s fingers clenched on the handle of the pistol. Damn it. They’d been so close. A indecisive glance around convinced him he had no other choice than to toss it aside.

  “Benjamin, you insult my hospitality.” Alrigo approached in Ben’s peripheral vision. “If you are in need of fresh air, you must ask nicely.”

  He swore silently and smiled at the man. “We did. Zucchi wasn’t very accommodating.”

  Alrigo leaned to pick up Ben’s discarded weapon as he laughed. The sound chilled the blood in Ben’s veins.

  “You still wish to run this beautiful morning?” Alrigo taunted. “I am sure Bruno would be happy to...accommodate.”

  Ben eyed the now panting dog and lifted his gaze to the stone-faced Nino while Alrigo circled behind him. “No, thank you.”

  “Excellent decision.”

  Without warning, a forceful blow on the back of Ben’s skull knocked him to his knees. Rachel cried out as pain radiated through his skull and the dog went wild, barking and snarling.

  Reflexes stunned, Ben tried to turn toward his sister, but Alrigo moved in front of him. The man grabbed a handful of his hair and jerked his head up while the other fist slammed into his jaw. Agony exploded across Ben’s face. A second strike nearly made him pass out and when shoved to the ground, he was too disorientated to brace his fall.

  Gravel bit into his already throbbing cheek. Eyes squeezed shut, he swallowed hard and tasted blood. The dog’s bark echoed in his throbbing head.

  Get up!

  He gave his head a shake, trying to clear all thought but the one, and opened his eyes to fight his way to his feet. His gaze registered a booted foot a split second before the rock solid force connected with his ribs. Air rushed from his lungs on a whooshing grunt. Fire seared his mid-section. Ben coughed and gasped for oxygen as another kick had him instinctively curling into a ball.

  Blackness crowded the edges of his vision. Rachel sobbed and begged the Italian to stop.

  Distantly, Ben heard another female, speaking in curt Italian. Eva.

  “Basta.” Nino’s firmly voiced command brought everything to a halt.

  Rachel knelt at Ben’s side. Tears ran down her cheeks. “Ben, are you okay?”

  Holding back an agonized groan, he pushed himself to his knees, turning his head to the side to spit out a mouthful of blood. He felt with his tongue for the gash inside his cheek and smoothed the jagged skin back in place. When he lifted his gaze, Eva stood next to Nino, still in her spandex yoga suit, hand resting on the Rottweiler’s head. Bruno stood perfectly still and silent.

  Eva’s concerned brown eyes connected with his, but he had no chance to wonder about the emotion before she spun on her bare foot and retreated to the house. He resisted raising his head to watch her leave.

  “Get up,” Alrigo bit out.

  Rachel helped him to his feet. He was sore all over, and they made quite the pair, him partially doubled over and her limping on her sprained ankle. With each step closer to the stone doorway leading them back to their prison, frustration and anger mounted. They should be free right now.

  At the door, he urged Rachel ahead of him, and cast a covert glance back toward Alrigo. The man’s attention was diverted by a vehicle that’d just turned in between the gates of the villa. Ben bent low and took a step backward at the same time. His elbow connected with Alrigo’s ribs, eliciting a hoarse cry of pain.

  He smiled his revenge and spun to face their captor, prepared to beat the prick to a pulp. He’d pulled his arm back, fingers forming into a fist, when something struck him from behind again. The world went black before he hit the floor.

  ****

  Ben came to on a soft surface. Gentle fingers pressed a cool cloth to his throbbing face. His head pounded as if punishing him for an all day bender and his body ached as if he’d gunned his bike off the side of a cliff and landed on rocks.

  Still…if Rachel was taking care of him, that meant she was okay. He cracked an eye open. Steady brown eyes regarded him.

  Eva.

  Ben stilled in surprise, then cast his gaze about the room and moved to sit up. His upward momentum was cut short with a painful bite and a metallic jangle on his wrists. He twisted his head to discover his arms were handcuffed to the bed. A jerk of one arm did nothing more than rattle the metal chain and wrench his wrist.

  “Rachel?” he called, searching the room again as fear squeezed his chest. His gaze sliced to Eva. “Where’s my sister?”

  Eva’s hand lowered. She turned to dip the cloth into a bowl of ice water sitting on a table next to the bed. “Rachel is fine.”

  “Where is she?” he demanded again.

  “Resting in a different room to repair her ankle.”

  “I want to see her.”

  “That is not possible.”

  “I want to see that she’s okay.” Ben glared his insistence. When Eva leaned forward to press the cold cloth to his cheek once more, he jerked his head away. Her lips compressed. Emotion flashed in her eyes, but her long black lashes lowered too quick for him to identify it. When her gaze met his once more, her shuttered expression revealed nothing.

  “Stubborn American. Let me help where I can.”

  He tried a different tactic, banking on the concern he’d glimpsed in her expression outside. “Do you have family, Eva?”

  She regarded him for a brief moment before turning back to the bowl and dipping the cloth again.

  He pressed harder. “Parents? A child? A brother or sister? Anyone you care about?”

  He knew he’d hit a nerve when she caught her lower lip between her teeth. Finally, she admitted, “A sister.”

  “Do you love her?”

  “Of course.”

  “Then you understand.”

  Her gaze returned to his, direct and unwavering. “I understand you must not anger Alrigo again if you and your sister wish to leave here alive. I assure you, for now, she is fine.”

  Her sultry accent made the sincere sounding words all the more convincing. This time, he didn’t move when she reached to apply the icy compress. He studied her face, appreciating the dark beauty of her Italian heritage. A thick shiny mass of ebony curls framed her small, rounded jaw line and high cheekbones, a shade lighter than the impossibly long eyelashes that highlighted her brown eyes to perfection. Her straight nose led down to a set of lips that promised a sensuous cushion for a man’s demanding mouth.

  His gaze strayed lower, resting on the abundant swell of her breasts at the top edge of h
er skin-tight spandex leotard. As he watched, her nipples stood out against the tight material. Ben swallowed hard and averted his attention in time to see her tongue slide across that full bottom lip. Her awareness of his appraisal sent a surge of lust to quicken his pulse. It was followed almost instantly by a tide of disgusted guilt.

  Wrestling his hormones back in line, he asked, “Tell me, Eva, how is my buddy Alrigo?”

  “Very unhappy.”

  “Got him good, didn’t I?”

  He caught a flash of a smile on her glistening lips a split second before she turned away.

  “You are too arrogant. You must be careful.”

  “Will you help us?”

  Surprised brown eyes met his. “No.”

  Dammit. He’d intended to feel her out, get an idea of how deep her loyalty ran, not ask her outright. But he couldn’t take the request back now, so he tried to appeal to the kindness he’d glimpsed in her eyes.

  “You’re different than them. I saw it last night. I can see it right now, otherwise you wouldn’t be taking care of me.”

  Her spine stiffened and she shoved off the edge of the bed. She scanned the empty room before leaning forward, her eyes lit with an internal fire. “You are mistaken. I do what is necessary, nothing more.”

  Ben stared at the door after she’d slammed out. He wasn’t that far off base. Her gaze had blazed with anger and something more. An emotion he could easily identify, because over the past twenty four hours, he’d become familiar enough with the feeling to recognize it in someone else.

  Fear.

  Time dragged for what felt like hours, and the sun told him the morning had advanced before the door opened again. Rachel entered with Nino and Alrigo. Ben caught a glimpse of the stress lines bracketing Alrigo’s mouth. His lips were pressed so thin there was no doubt the man was in pain. Good.

  Nino released Rachel’s arm and she quickly limped toward the bed. Alrigo gave them a menacing smile. “Take a good look, carina. Your brother’s life hinges on how well you follow instructions.”

  Rachel sat next to Ben, her light blue eyes full of worry and unshed tears.

  “What’s going on?” he asked.

  She wiped a tear that spilled down her cheek. “They’re taking me to Milan. I’m supposed to wait outside the consulate for Halli.”

  Realization sent a combination of dread and anger through his aching body. They were going to use her as bait. Halli wouldn’t think twice about running to Rachel, and Alrigo would grab her in a heartbeat. The man had no conscience.

  Looking at the bastard’s stony expression, Ben highly doubted he had any intentions of letting them go. They knew too much. Once he had Halli, and whatever it was she possessed that he wanted so desperately, they’d be nothing but a liability.

  It was up to Ben to make sure his sisters stayed safe. But what the hell could he do, laying here in fucking handcuffs? He wanted to kill the men in front of him with his bare hands.

  When Rachel leaned over to kiss his cheek, he turned his head and pressed his lips to her ear as the Italians conversed in their native language.

  “Promise me something?”

  “Anything,” she breathed softly.

  “Take Hal and run,” he whispered. “Don’t worry about me.”

  She pulled back to look at his face, her eyes wide as she shook her head. “Ben—”

  “Do it, Rachel,” Ben ordered, his voice raised on purpose. “For me.”

  “What do you know, Benjamin finally shows some sense.” Alrigo pulled his pistol out and made a show of ejecting the ammo clip, surveying the bullets, and shoving the clip back into place with a loud click. “Listen to your brother, carina.”

  Rachel stared at Ben in abject misery until Alrigo took hold of her arm. “We go. Now. You must not keep Halliwell waiting.”

  ****

  Evalina Gallo, aka Eva Anelli to Alrigo and his associates, watched Raphael pull out of the drive with Tony and the American girl in the back seat of the Lancia. Oddly enough, her first inclination was to go see the brother again. However, Alrigo and Nino had remained at the villa to finalize some details on the shipment due in two days, and showing too much interest in the American would be unwise. Nino would not understand.

  Besides, did she really want to spend more time with a man who was too intuitive for her own good? If she wasn’t careful, Benjamin Sanders could blow the foundation she and Nino had carefully laid with Alrigo over this past year.

  And that she could not risk. After six long years, she owed it to her father to finish what he’d started.

  Chapter 13

  Details registered on Halli’s mind as her consciousness slowly surfaced from sleep. Like the tantalizing aroma of fresh brewed coffee wafting by her nose. A nose that was chilled, while the rest of her was toasty warm. Not entirely comfortable, but warm.

  Soothed by the gentle rocking motion of the seat beneath her, she listened to the soft slap of water against the side of the boat and the rocks on shore. The echo of bells across the lake, and the cries of the seagulls added to the morning symphony.

  She shifted underneath a soft blanket she didn’t remember tucking around her shoulders and wiggled her toes to discover her shoes were gone. A plump pillow cushioned her head from the firm bench seat of Trent’s cabin cruiser.

  Another whiff of coffee teased her nostrils, tempting her to open her eyes, stretch and sit up. She resisted. This moment of sensation was hers to fantasize of a fun, relaxing day on the lake with a gorgeous man who wanted her, not the SD card in her video camera. To pretend yesterday hadn’t happened, and that today did not stretch endlessly into an uncertain future.

  It was just the simple here and now. One selfish moment.

  But all the day-dreaming in the world could not hold reality at bay. She sighed softly and stretched her arms up over her head. Muscles protested, sore from being tackled by the thug on Trent’s lawn.

  “Morning, sleepyhead.”

  Her fantasy man’s deep voice rumbled through her and awakened the butterflies that’d cropped up last night when he’d leaned in to kiss her. She pushed to a sitting position and finger-combed hair from her eyes before lifting her gaze to Trent’s. His smile made her heart stumble. How long had he been sitting there watching her?

  “Hi,” she said self-consciously. Where was a darn mirror when she needed one?

  He lifted a black mug and one dark eyebrow. “Coffee?”

  “Yes, please. With sugar.”

  He headed below deck. Another stretch wrung a groan from her. “What time is it?”

  “Quarter after six,” Trent called from below.

  Halli scrubbed her hands over her face and rubbed sleep from her eyes. Ran her fingers through her hair before smoothing the sides. The sound of Trent’s footsteps made her drop her hands back to her lap. When he handed her a forest green mug identical to his, she concentrated on not spilling it , nervous to look at him.

  “You’re up early,” she said.

  “Didn’t sleep much.”

  He sat in the chair opposite her, much the same as last night with the wine. Steam curled up into the cool morning air and the hot coffee warmed her hands through the ceramic. Its robust aroma cleared any remaining cobwebs. She lifted the mug up to her mouth and blew softly.

  It was impossible not to notice how wonderful Trent looked in the morning sunshine. The whiskers darkening his jaw had been trimmed, but not close enough to eliminate the scruff look. He wore it well. It was hard to recall if she’d ever really seen pictures where he wasn’t clean-shaven, and she understood exactly why he didn’t shave now. He blended well with the many dark-haired Italians and was hard to recognize. So long as he didn’t smile.

  Like now. That smile was a dead giveaway. Her heart thumped and she dropped her gaze from his. Clean jeans encased his long legs—and the question of what he may or may not have on underneath was firmly ignored.

  Her face warmed anyway. Darn it. She switched her focus and noticed he wor
e the same short sleeved shirt from last night, though it was buttoned now. So what. Better if she didn’t have to avoid staring at his bare, muscled chest. The material of the left sleeve stretched tight over the bandage and she seized on that detail like she’d been thrown a life preserver.

  “How does your arm feel this morning?”

  He shrugged his right shoulder. “I’ll live.”

  “You should go to a hospital and have them stitch you up.”

  His smile vanished. “Too many questions at a hospital.”

  “But what if your arm gets infected?”

  “I’ll be fine.”

  “Trent—”

  “No hospitals.” His abrupt tone closed the subject.

  “Then at the least I’ll change the bandage before we leave for the consulate.”

  He nodded and she finally took a sip of her coffee. The strong brew woke up her taste buds and she closed her eyes with a low, appreciative, “Mmm.” One more drink made her slump down in her seat as she savored the flavor on her tongue. In the ensuing silence, it dawned on her she enjoyed the drink a little too vocally.

  Trent stared at her as if he’d been in the desert for a week and she was a cold glass of water. Oh God…how she wanted to be the water.

  She straightened and stated in a matter-of-fact voice, “Good coffee.”

  He blinked and rose to his feet. “We should get going. I’ve got a surprise for you before we head to Milan.”

  His gruff, abrupt tone and the word surprise set her nerves on edge. Halli shoved aside the blanket covering her lap. “Surprise? What is it?”

  “Not a surprise if I tell you.” He vaulted up onto the dock.

  “I’m still not so sure I can trust you.”

  He spun around with a frown, clearly not appreciating her attempt at humor to diffuse her own unease.

  She held up a hand. “I’m kidding. Geez.”

  “There’s a new toothbrush on the sink and a towel if you want to freshen up while I go get us some breakfast. I didn’t want you to wake up all alone.”