Heat shimmered off him in waves, spiking with each groan she wrung from his lips. She’d finally given in to the fact that her life was out of her control, and yet she’d never felt more in control than at this moment.
When Trent couldn’t take anymore of her wicked tongue and teeth, he dragged her up and flipped their positions again. She continually surprised him. Shy one moment, wonderfully eager the next. He took the necessary moment to put on a condom before sliding into her heat. So hot, so tight. It took everything he had not to take her fast and furious, but he managed to hold on by a thread.
Slow. Make it last.
She was beautiful, lying beneath him, hair fanned on the navy bedspread. Those blue eyes of hers were unreadable in the dim light, but going by her expression, she wouldn’t be complaining any time soon. He’d make sure of that.
Her hips lifted, taking him deeper with each thrust. Heat built again, one tantalizing degree at a time. Soft, breathy moans emanated from her parted lips. They turned him on like nothing else and his control began to slip.
Faster. Harder. She urged him on, her voice desperate, relentless, reaching, until suddenly she cried out, louder than before. Trent followed her over the edge with a jerk of his body and a mind-blowing release.
His arms trembled from the extended time supporting his weight. Fighting to catch his breath, he eased to the side. He couldn’t resist a kiss on her smooth neck and a taste of her sweat-slick skin with the tip of his tongue. He should be satisfied, tired. Instead, he wanted to start all over despite the dull ache of his injured arm.
“Mmm,” she murmured, eyes closed.
“Never figured you for a screamer.”
“Never was before.”
Her eyes popped open and a flush spread across her face; a captivating, unexpected return of shyness.
Trent grinned with pure male satisfaction. “That was all me?”
She quickly shook her head side to side. “No.”
“You can’t take it back.”
“I can if I don’t want the boat to sink under the weight of your ego.”
He chuckled. “I special ordered the boat to handle my ego.”
“In that case, your earlier comment about not being good enough is completely unfounded.”
He smiled slightly, but didn’t hold her gaze. He hadn’t been talking about sex when he’d said that. Aware of cooler air on their damp, heated bodies, Trent shifted and urged her under the covers. She curled up on her side, head pillowed on her arm. He propped up on one elbow, watching her eyelids droop. “Ready for dessert?”
“Isn’t that what we just had?” she asked with a sleepy smile.
After a heartbeat or two, Trent managed a soft, cocky, “By my definition, we sure did, sweetheart.”
Her brow furrowed slightly, but relaxed as her breathing deepened.
“I’ll be back in a minute,” he said, pretty sure she was already sleeping and didn’t even hear him as he climbed off the bed. After a trip to the bathroom, he pulled his briefs on, palmed the gun, and took a quick turn topside.
Just past midnight, everything was quiet. Everything but the panicked, confused, hopeful, terrified tangle of emotions constricting his chest. He braced his hands on the railing to stare out over the water, drawing in long, slow breaths and letting them out with equal control. The dull ache in his arm became a painful bite with each clench of his fingers on the smooth metal rail. An ineffective distraction during the damned hopeless battle to keep the truth at bay.
He gave in with a low groan of surrender.
That last sex-satisfied smile of hers grabbed hold of his heart with the strength of a bald eagle snagging a fish. He hadn’t seen it coming. Didn’t want to be caught.
It was more than obvious they were all wrong for each other. She craved order and dependability; events in his life proved he was far from dependable. In time, she would resent him for disrupting her neat little life, and he’d succeed yet again in being a colossal disappointment. And that wasn’t even taking into account his Hollywood lifestyle.
Clear as the star-filled sky above, as opposite as their worlds were, as different as they were, it’d never work.
Wouldn’t it?
That insidious little voice in his head refused to be swayed by logical reasoning. Earlier, Halli had made a decision to live in the moment before it passed her by. He understood that sentiment wholeheartedly.
Maybe you aren’t completely different.
He considered that and thought, maybe not. He had no idea how the day would end. Plans could go awry, as they often did. Rules could be broken. Murderers couldn’t be counted on to follow any particular code of ethics. These moments with her could be all he had. Did he really want to waste them by arguing with himself as to why they’d never be together?
Though not normally a snuggler, Trent returned to the bed, replaced the gun on the headboard, and snuggled with Halli. Held her small, fragile, amazingly strong body close to his and prayed to God he didn’t let her down, too.
Chapter 21
Foot twitching a mile a minute, trying to contain his restless energy, Ben glared across his luxurious prison, wondering how the day would unfold and thinking if he was this unnerved, Halli must be going crazy between taking care of Rachel and worrying about him. If only he could talk to her again. Tell her not to worry, that someone must’ve decided he wasn’t such an escape threat and untied him from the chair. He had a guard outside the locked door and on the balcony, but at least he could move around again. Maybe even make a plan. Halli loved a good plan.
He surged off the bed and headed toward the window, anxious for the sun to rise above the mountain peaks and get this day over. Hopefully, Trent Tomlin had reassured his sisters and kept their minds off the whole nightmare. Halli’d always had a thing for the guy’s movies, and being in television herself, maybe they’d wiled away the sleepless night hours talking shop.
He, on the other hand, had been cursed with erotic dreams of his sexy Italian captor on his lap and woke to discover dawn had yet to break. Now, fifteen minutes later, the sky was just beginning to lighten to the East.
In mid-reach to sweep aside the curtain for a view of the lake, a low-pitched voice on the balcony made him draw back against the wall. An English-speaking, Italian-accented voice. These guys didn’t speak English without good reason, and some didn’t speak it at all. Why was this one?
Ben strained to make out the words.
“…standing guard like one of his fucking flunkies. I believe he has suspicion, so the sooner this is done the better. Is everything set up like we agreed?...Good. After the trade and money transfer, I will finish the job and make sure it looks like a deal gone bad…No, do not worry about him. It is a simple matter to insert doubt in his mind.”
He lowered to the floor and crawled to the other side of the busted window. Back to the wall, he peered through the slim opening provided by the curtain lifting every few seconds in the morning breeze. No lights lit the balcony. The weak glow of impending day revealed only a shadowed profile, dark hair, and dark rimmed glasses. A cigarette tip burned bright, providing brief illumination before arcing down out of sight, and a thin plume of smoke streamed into the cool morning air.
Nino.
“No…she poses no more problem than we anticipated…Relax. I said I will take care of her and Lapaglia, and I will.”
Ben’s heart thumped hard against his ribs. She. Halli? Rachel? Oddly, he didn’t think so. Something about the man’s tone. The only other woman he’d seen here at the villa was Eva. Given the reference to Alrigo Lapaglia, the logical conclusion was the bastard plotted to double cross the others. Indignation rose up on Eva’s behalf, until it hit him he could play this information to his advantage.
“No,” Nino stressed out on the balcony. “Follow the plan and remain out of sight. Do not fuck this up Roselli.”
Who the hell is Roselli? Ben leaned his head against the wall and noticed the darkness of the room had faded to g
ray. He returned to the bed and considered the scant but useful knowledge he’d gained. Yes, this could definitely work in his favor.
His first instinct was to tell Eva, get her on his side, use what he’d learned to ‘buy’ her help. Question was, would she negotiate?
Or did he put his money on Alrigo? Surely he’d like to know his right hand man was planning a con larger than Ben’s own parent’s had ever attempted. What he’d just overheard could save his life, if the heads-up resulted in Alrigo being grateful enough to set him free.
And if he’d read things wrong? Though what he’d heard was pretty hard to misinterpret, if he had, his gut and his head told him Eva was the better bet. The easier con, if it came to that. She couldn’t have been faking every emotion he’d read in her eyes yesterday. The first kiss made sense; a distraction until she could restrain his arm again. Humiliation over how easily she’d accomplished that was firmly thrust aside so he could focus on the second kiss.
After his lust had dulled, allowing for clear thinking, he’d bet his freedom the second one had been more than her simply showing him who was boss. He’d sensed an honest attraction sizzling in the air between them. Real desire warmed those almond colored eyes of hers. And when he’d asked her the likelihood of him surviving this damn thing, she’d seemed genuinely distressed before retreating behind her mask.
Alrigo’s cold, flat, black eyes chilled in comparison.
Eva was definitely the better bet.
He took a shower, surveyed his battered ribs, chest and face in the mirror and hoped with an absurd grin that he didn’t die today looking like he’d been on the losing end of a fight. If he died, he’d have lost, but still. Shirt in hand, he stepped from the bathroom to see Eva setting a breakfast tray on the small table Zucchi had kicked into the window the previous morning.
Ben’s morbid humor faded, but he kept the smile in place. “Good morning.”
She turned around, her expression tight with suspicion. His grin widened when he noted her gaze journey down and up before lingering on his bare chest. Her expression softened, probably without her even realizing it. Either she admired his build, or she was taking pity on his numerous bruises. Both possibilities were to his favor, though his ego preferred the first.
By the time she lifted her gaze, he’d performed his own appraisal of her black leggings and silky, shimmering red top belted at her lush hips before ending mid-thigh. He did nothing to hide his appreciation of her figure as pulse-spiking attraction flared. She immediately broke the connection by turning to leave.
He swaggered across the room, pulling his shirt over his head as he went. “I was hopin’ you’d keep me company while I eat,” he suggested conversationally.
She spun around with a frown. “You insult my intelligence with your false charm.”
He conceded her point with a quick dip of his chin. “I apologize.”
Her glare pierced across the room before she reached for the door.
“I have something you might be interested in.”
Again she faced him. Again she frowned. “I am not interested in you at all, Mr. Sanders.”
Increased defensiveness in her voice raised his hope another notch. He smiled, sat, and reached for the bitter cup of espresso he’d discovered the Italians preferred over regular coffee. “I didn’t say you were interested in me. The information I’ve obtained, well, that’s a whole other matter.”
Her fingers wrapped around the door handle.
“Life and death.”
She didn’t move.
“Mine and yours,” he added softly.
“Is that a threat?”
“I’m trying to protect you.” He took a bite of one of the pastries on the tray, but underneath his calm façade, he discovered he really did want to protect her. The thought of Nino ‘taking care’ of her made the food hard to swallow, no matter how good it tasted.
Eva spun around. “I need no man’s protection.”
“Everyone needs protection at some time or another, Eva.”
She strode closer, mouth opened to protest, no doubt, but he kept talking.
“Take me for example. I’m a pretty tough guy, normally more than capable of taking care of myself, yet here I sit. I admit I need you, so it’s not beyond the realm of possibility that if what I’ve learned is true, we could help each other.”
She slapped both hands on the table with a loud jangle of bracelets and leaned forward. No fair. Her cleavage distracted him to the point that he almost didn’t hear her question.
“What information could you possibly have that I would find helpful?”
Ben swallowed his lust with a gulp of espresso. Ow. Damn. Still hot! He sucked in a cooling breath and then cleared his scalded throat. “Keep your voice down, please.”
Her gaze darted to the window and then back to him.
“Who’s out there right now?” he asked quietly.
“Tony. Zucchi stands in the hall. Perche? Why?”
Ben leaned closer, lowered his voice. “Nino was outside on the balcony not more than an hour ago. Before it got light.”
“So?”
“He was on the phone with some guy named Roselli.”
Eva’s eyes went wide. She shook her head. “Impossible.”
“I heard him through the window—saw him, too.”
“Roselli is dead.”
“Not from what I heard. Now listen, your ‘partner’ is planning something all on his own. He told this guy he’d take care of you and Alrigo and that you, specifically, wouldn’t be a problem. My parents landed in jail when they trusted someone better at the con game than they were, so believe me, I know a double cross when I hear one.”
Her gaze narrowed as she considered his words. Watching her face, he could practically see the wheels turning in her head.
He reached out to cover her small hand with his. “You can’t trust him, Eva, but you can trust me. Let’s help each other.”
She jerked from his touch and straightened. She’d gone poker-faced again, retreating behind an indifferent mask.
“You misunderstood. I know where Nino’s loyalty lies. Say nothing more to anyone.”
Again with the door. Damn it, she was going to get herself killed if she ignored him. Ben surged to his feet and followed her across the room. Two steps from the door, he reached for her shoulder.
Next thing he knew, he was kissing the wall, arm twisted mercilessly behind his back. Christ, she was fast. With the painful vice grip she had on his arm, her slight weight had no problem holding him in place.
Twisting his head to the side, he uttered a few choice words and then demanded, “How the hell’d you do that?”
“A woman in my line of work learns to take care of herself.”
“What exactly is your line of work, by the way?”
“That is not clear?”
The only thing that was clear right now was her warm body tight against his. Her spicy exotic scent wafted up to tease his nostrils. Damn it, he needed to focus here.
“It’s clear you can cook like nobody’s business, and equally clear you have exceptional defense skills, but none of that tells me what a nice, smart girl like you is doing with scum like Alrigo and Nino.”
“You are so sure I am a nice girl?”
Her voice had dropped a notch and Ben turned his head as far as possible to see her face over his shoulder from the corner of his eye. “You want to help me. I’ve seen it all along in those beautiful brown eyes of yours, Eva, and the eyes don’t lie.”
She applied pressure to his arm, her gaze downcast. When her lashes lifted again, the warmth he was so sure he’d glimpsed had shriveled under a thick sheet of ice.
“You have no idea what you are involved in, but trust me when I say if you wish to survive the next twelve hours, you will cease your arrogant attitude and keep your damn mouth shut.”
It was more of a warning than a threat, yet a shiver ran down his spine anyway. Fine, she wanted to trust the scumbags,
let her roast her own ass.
Yeah right. Cheap talk, buddy.
“My arm’s going numb.”
Her grip loosened a fraction. Ben shoved away from the wall, throwing her off balance enough that he was able to wrench free. Moving as fast as she had, he grabbed her and spun so her back pressed against the wall, wrists imprisoned above her head. A preemptive hip swivel blocked her knee to his groin. Not going there again.
He fought the urge for a long, deep inhale of her unique scent and focused on meeting her furious gaze.
“Just like that, the tables turn,” he murmured.
Uncertainty flickered in her eyes, only to be blinked away. “You said I could trust you.”
“You can.” His gaze dropped to her lips, pressed together in determination. No kissing. Look up. “I can’t get out of here alone, I know that. I’m equally certain Nino is not who he seems and you’re going to get screwed.”
“Why do you care?”
Good question. He was still searching for an answer when her expression softened slightly and she tilted her head.
“If I agreed right now to help you…you would trust me?” she asked.
“Yes.”
“I could be lying to obtain my release.”
Staring into her eyes, heat simmering between their intimately aligned forms, his body began to react. There’s no way she didn’t feel the insistent pulse epicentered below his waist. But damn, the woman was good; her gaze never faltered.
He leaned his body further into hers, pressing his chest to hers. “We both know if you wanted to be released, all you’d have to do is scream.”
“You do not think I will?”
“You would’ve already.”
“You are much too…how do you American’s say? Cocky.”
Ben gave a slow smile, bent his knees slightly to align his hips with hers and pressed closer still. “Guilty as charged.”
Lost in Italy Page 28