Lost in Italy

by Stacey Joy Netzel

  She actually looked like she was about to cry as she lifted her small shoulders. “Yeah, well, it’s tomorrow now, you know?”

  Her words brought back memories of last night. How she’d decided to put aside her worries for one night. His jaw tightened in tandem with his grip on the gun, and he made a small questioning gesture with the weapon. “Why’d you take this?”

  “I started thinking about later and got so claustrophobic I couldn’t breathe down there.” She motioned below deck. “I had to get some air, and thought I’d feel safer up here by myself if I had the gun. Stupid, since I don’t even know how to use it.”

  His gaze narrowed at the wobble in her voice. Damn, she was good. “Why didn’t you wake me?”

  “I know you didn’t get much sleep the past couple nights.”

  He immediately pictured why he’d lost sleep last night. Judging by the increased flush coloring her fair skin, her thoughts travelled the same path. He forced the erotic images from his mind and asked, “I take it that was your sister on the phone?”

  She nodded. Trent leaned against the railing, gun held casually at his side, ready for anything. He did another scan of the immediate area around the dock and George’s house but noted nothing unusual. “What’s going on? Is she okay?”

  Halli sidled past him to sit at the table where a mug of coffee rested. “She’s feeling okay, but said Simone got a phone call this morning that really shook her up. Not that she could understand Simone’s Italian, but Rachel said it looked like she’d seen a ghost. And when she asked if something was wrong, Simone completely clammed up. Wouldn’t even look her in the eye. Rachel said it was very strange and freaked her out.”

  Trent frowned. He didn’t like the sound of that. Halli distracted him with a downward sweep of her gaze, reminding him he wore nothing but navy boxer briefs. Betrayal had effectively taken care of his morning hard-on but her attention threatened to bring it back. He was an idiot.

  More color stained her cheeks when she raised her gaze to his. It wasn’t possible to produce blushes on demand, was it?

  “Do you think it’s strange?” she asked.

  Yes. Everything in his life was strange these days.

  He shrugged. “Hard to say since I wasn’t there.”

  Halli lifted her coffee, only to thunk the mug back down without taking a drink. “I realize they’re not friends or anything, but Simone really seemed like she wanted to help yesterday.”

  Trent kept his own concern hidden to see how far she’d carry the act. “It could’ve been a call from the hospital.”

  “Yeah.” Her fingers gripped her mug, knuckles white.

  “Would you feel better if I called her?”

  Those blue eyes pleaded. “Would you, please?”

  He extended his arm for the phone. She handed it over with a thankful smile that lit her eyes and wrenched his gut.

  Was she really playing him, or did he have it all wrong? A moment ago he’d been certain, now he waffled. Shouldn’t he, the actor, be able to figure out if someone was genuine or running a con?

  Simone sounded a little out of sorts, but assured him she was just tired. With miles separating them and the day marching forward relentlessly, he was forced to give her the benefit of the doubt. He asked about Rachel again, and then made Simone promise to get some rest when she could before hanging up.

  “Everything’s fine.”

  Halli’s relief was palpable, until their eyes met and her smile faded. She took her still half-full mug and brushed past to go below deck. Trent followed, watching her dump out the coffee while he reached for his jeans on the floor. The phone bounced where he dropped it on the unmade bed, but the gun he set on the corner of the rumpled comforter farthest from her while he dressed.

  “Exactly how are you and your sister and brother better than your parents?” He cringed at the slight note of accusation. Nothing like telling her he was on to her.

  “You heard that?”

  “And the rest,” he stated, buttoning his jeans.

  She turned around, hands braced against the counter behind her. She looked nervous, but met his gaze directly. “Rachel’s just worried about Ben, please don’t take her doubt personally. A million dollars is a lot to ask even a close friend to fork over, let alone a stranger.”

  Not quite the angle he’d expected. Trent tugged a clean white T-shirt down over his stomach and let his gaze linger on her curves as he stuck the gun into the back waistband of his jeans. “We’re hardly strangers, Halli.”

  Color deepened in her cheeks and neck again. Trent’s heart insisted she couldn’t fake that, or the shyness he swore he saw in her eyes when he stepped closer. It was unnerving how bad he wanted back what they’d shared last night. So bad that he couldn’t keep from crossing to her and reaching out to touch despite his insidious suspicions.

  He brushed the back of his knuckles along her jaw and tucked her hair behind her ear. One moment she looked up at him with such a pure expression of trust, and the next she wrapped her arms tight around him. He tensed with the instant thought she was going for the gun, but all she did was lay her cheek on his chest and lean against him.

  Forcing himself to remain somewhat vigilant, he removed the gun and laid it within his reach on the counter before returning Halli’s embrace.

  “Rachel doesn’t know you. And I did mean what I said last night. I trust you completely.”

  Her words were muffled against his shirt, but no less effective.

  “Only you.”

  He squeezed his eyes shut in despair. Did she have any clue what she did to him?

  “What I said about my parents…”

  Her chest expanded and relaxed within his arms. With trepidation, he waited for her to continue.

  “Rachel thought maybe with us getting mixed up in all this…that maybe that meant in some sense we were more like our parents than we thought. That despite us trying to live normal lives, there was no escaping the past, or who we are. But I know we’re nothing like them. It may have taken Ben and Rachel a little longer to escape their influence, but it’s true.”

  Her voice rang with steel conviction. He wished he could see her face. Instead, he kept her talking. “What was it like, growing up with them?”

  A long minute passed before she spoke. “For the most part it was fun, like a never-ending adventure that once in awhile got a little scary. Us kids were always part of whatever elaborate scheme they were running and they’d make each one into a game. I guess you could say they conned us, too, because I thought we were close, until that one time we didn’t leave town before I saw the result of what they’d orchestrated.” She leaned back in his arms with a sigh and slight shake of her head. “I was twelve, and though I don’t know the specifics of the con, I was old enough to know I’d played a part in my new best friends’ parents losing their jobs, their house, their savings…everything…because of my family.”

  Her voice had grown hoarse and she sniffed.

  “I couldn’t bring myself to turn them in, even though I wanted to, but I refused to help anymore and things were never the same between me and my parents. Ben and Rachel took up the slack and watched out for me. Then, shortly after my sixteenth birthday, someone beat them at their own game and they were convicted less than six months later.”

  Trent frowned at the thought of her being alone so young. “What’d you do?”

  “Got an honest job, finished high school and worked my way through college.”

  She rattled off her accomplishments as if they were no big deal, but there was no mistaking the underlying determination and pride in her voice. He thought she’d gained strength on this wild ride they’d shared, but in truth, he saw she’d had it all along.

  “Ben was already out of school, working for some courier service that took him all around the country. Rachel always had a flair for art and she started her own business not far from where I live now. She travels to art fairs all over during the summer and creates in her studio
through the winter. Ben helps her out with the books whenever he’s around.”

  Call him gullible, but Trent was well on his way to reforming his hasty conclusions from a few minutes ago. Why would she tell him any of this if she was playing him?

  He took one moment of clear, rational thought to consider Sean and Lorenzo’s murders and everything else they’d been through the past couple days. The twisted tangle of events leading up to this exact spot convinced him there was no way anyone could plan what they’d been through. Too many variables would’ve made it impossible, and he felt like a jerk for even going there in the first place.

  Thank God he hadn’t openly accused her.

  Relief clogged his throat, but he managed to ask, “And your parents…has prison made a difference for them, or you?”

  “I haven’t spoken to them since the trial almost ten years ago and I don’t want to. They’ll never be a part of my life again.”

  As if suddenly uncomfortable with the conversation, she brought her arms around to push against his chest. He released her with reluctance.

  “What about your brother and sister?”

  She shrugged. “I know they’ve kept in touch, but we don’t talk about them.” She reached up to brush moisture from her cheeks, turning her back as she did so. “I’ve never even told anyone about them. I can just imagine what people would think or say if they knew.”

  Trent made her face him. “Like you told Rachel, you’re not your parents.” He saw that now without a doubt.

  “Still doesn’t mean I want anyone to know.”

  “Your secret is safe with me,” he promised.

  He was rewarded with a brief smile. His stomach chose that moment to grumble for breakfast and Trent decided to get the morning back on track where it should’ve been.

  He lifted her chin to give her a thorough good morning kiss. After a moment, her palms flattened on his chest as she rose on tiptoe to kiss him back. With effort, he sidelined thoughts of taking her back to bed and ended the kiss.

  “Hungry?” he asked.

  Before he could pull away, she wound her arms around his neck with a shy grin. “Very.”

  His pulse leapt, but he avoided the temptation of her mouth for a peck on the tip of her nose. “That’s Italy Halli talking. And while I look forward to speaking with her again tonight, right now I need Wisconsin Halli’s attention.”

  Her smile faded and she pulled her arms down. He gave himself a mental kick in the ass and pressed a quick kiss to her lips. “I didn’t mean—”

  She pushed away, shaking her head. “No, you’re right. Here I told Rachel we had a plan and we haven’t even talked about anything yet. Coffee’s made, and it’s sponge cake for breakfast, so—”

  “Halli…”

  She paused in the middle of handing him a clean mug.

  “Will you have dinner with me when this is all over?”

  Trent’s question was the very last thing Halli expected. He’d been in a strange mood since sneaking up on her earlier and she was still trying to read him. The ‘morning after’ situation only made things more awkward because, from the moment she’d woken up next to him, she’d wanted thousands more ‘morning afters’ with him.

  For a speechless moment she simply stared at his serious expression. Her heart said yes, but common sense pointed out when this was over, she’d be Wisconsin Halli no matter where her feet were located, and he’d see she really was boring.

  Thrusting the mug into his hand, she reached for the cake with her other hand and tried to make light of his question. “Let’s get through breakfast and the rest of the day before talking about dinner.”

  “I’m serious.”

  “So am I.”

  Cake on the table, she opened the small refrigerator door to get the fruit and whipped cream and spotted the antibiotics bottle from Simone on the door. Thankful for the distraction, she grabbed the bottle.

  “You need your second shot of antibiotics.”

  He poured himself a cup of coffee and leaned back against the counter as he took a drink. “So that’s the way it’s going to be?”

  “That’s how it has to be,” she confirmed.

  Last night had been a great distraction—the best distraction of her life—but if she continued down that road, she’d start looking beyond the next twelve, twenty-four, and even forty-eight hours…and that would only lead to heartache. She was pretty darn sure heartache was in her near future anyway, no sense magnifying it with a voluntary dinner that would only highlight how completely different their lives were. Plus, he could say she wasn’t her parents, but the tabloid press would have a field day with Trent Tomlin’s girlfriend’s parents residing in federal prison.

  She almost laughed a second later. Listen to her. Assuming she’d be his girlfriend with one dinner. Talk about setting herself up.

  After retrieving the syringe, she faced Trent. “Ready?”

  He set down his mug and reached for the button of his jeans. “Just remember, this is not fun for me. It bites like a sonofabitch.”

  Halli couldn’t hold back a smile as she filled the syringe and then coaxed the air bubbles to the top like Simone had done. Trent bent over slightly, presenting her with one bare ass cheek. That’s when the nerves struck, and she hesitated.

  “Simone pretty much just jabbed it in, right?”

  “That’s what it felt like,” he confirmed between clenched teeth.

  “Okay.”

  The hand she braced on his back trembled. So did the one holding the syringe.

  “Is your hand shaking?” he asked incredulously.

  “I’m a little nervous.”

  “You’re nervous?”

  “I’ve never done this before.”

  He jerked to his full height. “Christ, gimme the damn thing!”

  “I got it.” She held the syringe behind her back and met his gaze as he faced her. “I can do it, just give me a minute.”

  “I appreciate that you’ve been looking forward to jabbing me with the needle, but I prefer not to have it broke off in my ass.”

  He had a point. She carefully set the syringe in his extended palm and then watched him pull a contortionist act to give himself the shot. He’d pulled his pants down further so they didn’t slide back up and she got a good look at his firm muscles as he stuck the needle in. Heat warmed her face as she recalled running her hands over them last night.

  Trent glanced up and caught her staring. He pulled the needle out with a grimace and set the syringe on the counter so he could refasten his pants. His teeth flashed as he cut his gaze back to her. “Enjoyed that anyway, didn’t you?”

  There was no use denying it, so she simply smiled at his egotistical grin and then laughed when he waggled his brows and asked if she’d rub his butt for him.

  Yeah…heartache definitely lurked right around the corner.

  The cell phone rang with a sobering dose of reality. Halli followed Trent’s gaze to where he’d left it on the bed. He crossed the space in three strides, checked the number, and flipped it open. The rigid line of his jaw told her it wasn’t Simone.

  “I’m working on it. You gave me ‘til six…don’t worry, you’ll get yours as long as we get Ben.” He paced to the bar counter and yanked open a drawer to pull out paper and a pen. Then he wrote while repeating out loud a set of GPS coordinates and the time. He ended that call and immediately began dialing again as he faced Halli.

  She started to speak, only to have him hold up a silencing hand.

  “Figured you’d be up,” Trent said without any other greeting. “Where are we at with the money? Good. Don’t forget, waterproof bag, and tell him to meet me at the Villa Melzi gardens at four, on the steps leading down to the waterfront. Can’t miss ‘em.”

  His gaze shifted from Halli to the gun on the counter.

  “You’re absolutely sure I can trust this guy? Thanks, Brad, I owe you one.”

  After an abrupt disconnect, he slipped the phone into his pocket, his m
outh set in a grim line. Halli blew out a shaky breath when he picked up the gun and tucked it in place against the small of his back before meeting her gaze.

  “Time to make that plan.”

  ****

  Numerous ideas had been suggested and discarded, and Halli was beginning to think they’d never figure out how to pull the whole thing off. They had about an hour before meeting the guy delivering the ransom money. Three hours before the exchange with Lapaglia. Time was running out.

  Head buried on her crisscrossed arms, she mumbled under her breath, brainstorming to herself about the lake, boats, meeting on the water. Trent had insisted a minute ago he was not pacing, but since then he’d resumed wearing a path in the carpeting. He didn’t even see her glare, so she dropped her head again.

  Stupid boat. They needed more space. For the first time since yesterday, she actually wanted to be separated from—

  Halli stiffened. She lifted her head from her arms. “I’ve got it. We need a second boat.”

  Trent paused in his pacing. “A second boat?”

  “A second boat,” she repeated, smiling. “That way we can keep our bargaining chips separated and stack the odds in our favor.”

  His gaze narrowed as he considered her suggestion.

  She got up from the table and went to stand in front of him. “Think about it. The money on one boat, the video on the other.”

  “They get one when they release Ben, and the other when the boat with Ben is a safe distance away,” he expanded, nodding, warming to the idea.

  “Exactly,” she agreed. “You asked for a waterproof bag, so we hold that back until we’ve got Ben. Since there’s no way for them to know for sure if we’ve made another copy of the video, I think the money’s the better incentive.”

  “Good point.”

  Excitement pumped up her pulse. Finally they had a workable plan the two of them could realistically pull off.

  Trent reached past her to grab the notebook she’d been using at the table and turned toward the bar area. “Renting a boat shouldn’t be too much of an issue around here, but the driver is a whole other matter. We can’t just ask anyone—”