by Cindy Stark
"How come you're not married?" he asked.
The return volley of her question took her by surprise. The haunting memory of Danny's murder flared along with the too-familiar anguish that owned her heart. Eight years had passed, and she could still hear his voice crack as he begged her father for mercy. She forced herself to chew and swallow the bite of waffle she had in her mouth. She couldn't meet Milo's gaze. "Umm…I guess I haven't met the right person, either." She pushed a strawberry around her plate, wishing she could find a way to conquer her past so it wouldn't have the power to sneak up on her and send her straight back into her tortured hell.
"Hey." Milo reached across the table and covered her hand. "Are you okay?"
She tried to mask her emotions before she returned his gaze. "Of course. Why do you ask?"
"I don't know. You just seem off."
He studied her as though deciding whether or not to believe her, and she prayed he wouldn't see through her. The horrific pain of Danny's death was something she'd never shared with anyone, and she never intended to. She hadn't been able to save her sweetheart, but she'd never forget him and what he meant to her.
He was the first person who'd ever loved her.
She slid her hand from beneath Milo's and lifted her coffee cup. The hot liquid scalded her tongue and was a welcome relief from other pains.
A few uncomfortable minutes passed. She took several small bites, using the time to shove the powerful memories back to the bottom of her heart and compose her emotions.
"I hope the food is okay."
She smiled and immediately appreciated the fact her gesture had come easier than she'd thought. Being around Milo with his quick grin and flashing eyes helped. "It's wonderful."
"I'm going to head into town tomorrow. If there's anything you want, let me know."
Her gaze jumped to his. "Can I go?"
"No." He didn't hesitate one tiny second before he answered.
Her spirits plummeted again. "Why not?"
He softened his features. "You are in deep hiding, darlin'. No one should know you're here. After the last four times of having your cover compromised, I don't think we can be too careful."
She silently cursed herself. She'd dug this hole, and now she'd pay the price. "This is the smallest town I've ever been in. The last time anyone besides Quinn saw me, my hair was blond. I'm sure no one will notice or recognize me."
He studied her until the silence grew awkward.
"What?" she finally asked.
"Well, first of all, it's pretty hard to go unnoticed in a town where everyone knows everyone else and…" He paused for another moment and then smiled. "I'm trying to picture you blond and can't quite do it. Dark hair looks good on you."
She blew out a breath. "You're trying to change the subject before we're finished discussing it."
"Nope." He stood and picked up his plate. "There is no discussion. You're not going."
She gathered her dishes and followed him to the sink. She'd barely touched her food, but her appetite had vanished. "I'm going to go crazy if I can't leave this house."
He looked at her plate. "You didn't eat much."
She pushed past him and put her dishes in the sink before turning to him. "Please? Spending all this time being isolated is driving me insane."
He glanced down at their bodies as a grin tilted his lips, enhancing the outline of his scar. Ariana followed the direction of his gaze. Barely two inches separated them. Desperation had led her actions, and she'd gotten right up in his face without realizing it. If she completely filled her lungs, her breasts might touch his chest. She took a step back, conceding space.
He stepped toward her, and she knew in that moment she shouldn't have showed weakness. But she hadn't been able to help it. Being so close to him had a way of blurring her thoughts, and she needed a clear head right now. She wanted to take another step back, but she held her ground. "Maybe I could just ride along and stay in the car?"
He lifted his hand, and she froze as his fingers grazed the skin below her collarbone. He picked up a strand of hair, twining it around his finger. "I don't think so. No chances."
She snatched her hair away. "This is messed up. I shouldn't be the one being punished. I'm trying to do the right thing. My father and his men are the ones who deserve to be locked away until they go crazy, not me." When she stopped her rant long enough to take a breath, she realized she sounded a bit juvenile. "I'm sorry." She took several steps away from him now. "This has dragged on forever. I just need the trial to be over so I can have a life again."
He gave her a look full of compassion. "I know. I'm sorry. I can't imagine how difficult this must be for you."
She turned, not wanting him to see the tears that threatened to escape. "I'll be fine. It's almost over. I guess I needed to blow off some steam. I didn't mean to take it out on you."
He came up behind her and touched her bare arm. When she looked up at him, he removed his hand. "I thought maybe I'd take you fishing."
CHAPTER FIVE
Never in her life had Ariana done anything as outdoorsy as fish, and quite frankly, she couldn't understand the attraction of it at all. But, considering her circumstances, she wasn't going to forego an opportunity to escape her current prison.
Milo had sent her in to change into jeans. She came out to find him in the kitchen looking pretty damn hot in a ripped pair of faded jeans and a tight-fitting gray t-shirt sporting a wicked looking cross. A ball cap covered his blond hair. Two fishing poles waited by the back door while Milo stared intently at the small television resting on the counter.
As she stepped into the room, the screen flashed a picture of her father followed by another image of her with straight blond hair and large, dark sunglasses. The reporter told his audience the daughter of infamous mob boss John Trasatti had gone missing and the most recent reports indicate she might be a victim of foul play. "Oh my God."
Milo jerked his gaze toward Ariana and turned off the TV.
"Wait." She rushed forward. "I want to hear that."
Milo shook his head. "Don't let it concern you. Quinn said this would happen. In fact, he's kind of been hoping it would. If your family thinks you're dead, they might back off searching for you."
She laughed at that. "I've betrayed my family, Milo. The ultimate sin." A thousand times worse than what she'd done with Danny. "My father will not rest until he has firsthand proof of my death." And if it was up to him, her murder would be a thousand times more painful than Danny's.
Milo gave her a brief nod of acknowledgement. "But you're safe here, and you can't think about that now. Worrying is not going to help you any."
That might be true, but how was she supposed to ignore it? "What if others besides my family also believe it? I have a friend from school…"
"A guy?"
She frowned. "No." Kenzie had befriended her the day she'd arrived at the private all-girls school her father had enrolled her in. They'd continued to stay as close as sisters throughout college. She wouldn't be quite so worried about her friend—she'd warned her that she'd be off the grid for a while—but Kenzie's mom had died from cancer not long ago, and her friend had to be an emotional wreck. The last thing Ariana wanted to do was add to her worries. "Why does it matter if it's a man or woman?"
He shrugged as he zipped shut a stuffed backpack and buckled on his holster. "I don't know. It was just an innocent question."
But it wasn't.
"Ready?" he said before she could respond.
"Do you think taking your gun is necessary?"
"I'm comfortable you'll be safe, but there's nothing wrong with being careful."
He held out a folded lightweight blanket to her. "Hope you don't mind carrying this."
"I don't mind." Milo was manipulating the situation, but maybe it was for a good reason. She'd trusted him with her life, so she also needed to trust that he'd make the best decisions regarding her safety. At least for now. She allowed her thoughts to return to the
current moment. Kenzie would be okay. If worse came to worse, she could have Quinn call her friend and reassure her. For now, she'd pretend that world didn't exist, and she'd allow Milo to distract her.
She wanted to laugh at the insane idea of her fishing. Instead, she rolled her eyes and smiled. "I hope you know what you're getting yourself into. I do not have clue one when it comes to tossing a line in the water."
"Are you afraid to learn?" He arched a brow.
She wanted to growl at him. He'd obviously figured out she hated to back down from a challenge. "Of course not."
"Then let's go." He slung the backpack over his shoulder and grabbed the poles.
Instead of going out the front toward his truck, Milo led the way out the back door and across his yard. The overworked muscles in her thighs and butt cried out in protest as she climbed the back fence once again. She hadn't realized she'd given them such a workout the day before.
The sun warmed her bare shoulders as she followed Milo on the narrow dirt trail that led through a grass-filled pasture. "Are we trespassing?"
"Nope. This is all my family's land."
All? She scanned the vast open space. "Do you come here often?" She really didn't need to ask. By the looks of the foot path, someone had traveled this particular stretch of land many times.
He looked over his shoulder at her, and the sight gave her a small thrill. "As a matter of fact, I do."
Cows grazed in the distance, but other than them and a few buzzing insects, she and Milo were alone in their own little corner of the world. She couldn't explain quite why, but that filled her with a peace and an unexpected happiness she hadn't experienced in a long time.
It might be because she was out of the house and doing something different that would challenge her. Or perhaps it was because this little town allowed her to pretend she wasn't really a Trasatti. She was no one special. Just another soul on the face of the earth breathing air and trying not to hurt her fellow companions. That's all she'd ever wanted out of life. Yes, she'd enjoyed her father's money, and as she'd grown older, she'd carried tremendous guilt over that, knowing the money that had paid for her clothes and education may have cost someone else his life. She hadn't done anything about her guilt for a long time. She could only hope her testimony now would relieve some of her burden.
She put extra bounce in her steps just because she could. Milo wouldn't see her, and for all that it mattered, there wasn't another person in the world who could see her at the moment.
However, the longer they walked over the hilly land, the more Ariana found herself watching Milo and not the serene surroundings. He had a self-assured, confident gait, and she enjoyed watching the muscles in his back and thighs stretch and contract with each step. His broad shoulders tapered to a fit waist. In another life, she might have had the opportunity to win him over. She might have wanted to. The best she could hope for now was a bit of fun flirting, and someone to occupy her thoughts during the day and keep her from getting lonely.
Fifteen minutes into their walk, they approached a line of trees thicker than the occasional tree they'd passed on the way. Between the sentry of aspens and pines, she caught sight of a beautiful flowing river. She'd seen plenty of rivers growing up, but those massive flows of water were nothing like this. They were dark and deep enough to float a barge. People joked about giving someone cement shoes and tossing them in, but she happened to know for a fact that Hector Malone had encountered such a fate. Some of her father's men had thought it would be funny to reenact the urban legend.
She'd grown up in a sick, sick world. Danny's death might have been the most painful thing she'd encountered in life, but her getting caught with him had ultimately saved her life. Her father casting her out had seemed beyond cruel at the time, but now she could see leaving the heart of her family had saved her soul. She wished she could have taken Danny with her.
But that was the past, and this was now. All she could do was move forward.
The softly burbling water in front of her was more of a stream than a river. She might be able to float a paper boat on this water, but not much else. Maybe a canoe. As they approached, she could see the depth was at best guess about three feet, possibly four in some of the shadowy areas beneath the trees. The river twisted and turned lazily through the grassland, and the water seemed impossibly clear. Sunlight reflected off it, occasionally blinding her, but she didn't mind. The sound of water caressing the rocky shores was like a sweet lullaby from the heavens.
"What do you think? Will it tame your restless spirit for a while?" Milo watched her with a satisfied expression on his face.
"It's beautiful. Very different than the rivers in Chicago."
He snorted. "You are correct in that."
"Have you been there?"
"I have actually. I spent some time there several years ago while I was still with the Marshals. It's a very beautiful city, but while the energy there is flickering with vitality, the energy here has a way of healing a person."
She couldn't have said it any better.
"Let's set our stuff here."
Ariana spread out the soft blanket, and Milo proceeded to unload his backpack. She was surprised to see he'd packed a small collapsible cooler as well as a box full of different-colored lures that looked like miniature plastic fish.
It only took Milo a few minutes to get a pole ready, and he headed down to the water. "If we had more time, I'd teach you to fly fish," he said as he stepped on a large, flat rock at the edge of the stream and motioned for her to join him. She followed, very aware of where she put her feet so she wouldn't fall in. He gave her quick instructions on how to work the reel before he handed the rod to her. "Go ahead and toss it out." She flipped her bright yellow lure out into the water. "Now just sit there. If you feel a tugging on the line, start cranking your reel."
He'd no sooner taken a few steps away from her, heading back toward the blanket for his pole, when her rod dipped and the line tugged.
"Oh my God," she muttered and started turning the little handle on the pole. The fish tugged harder. "Milo?"
"Give me a second."
She reeled harder. "I think I have something."
He hurried back to her, laughing as the silver body of a fish flashed into view. "I'll be damned. It's a nice one, too." He let her reel the fish before he grasped the end of her pole, and reached down into the water to retrieve the fish. He pulled pliers from his back pocket and used them to disengage the hook from the fish. "Looks like we'll be eating fresh trout tonight." He glanced at her. "I cook a mean trout."
Happiness bubbled from within. "I can't believe I caught a fish my very first time trying, and I love trout."
"Ah, darlin', if this is your first time fishing, you've really led a shallow life."
She swallowed past the hurt that tried to surface. She was not going to let thoughts of her father and her childhood ruin this moment. "Yeah? Well, I'd say you'd better get busy and catch yourself a fish. You don't want to be upstaged by a novice fisherwoman."
He put her fish in the cooler and checked the lure on the end of her line. "You're ready to go again. If you catch another before I get my line in the water, I'm going to seriously doubt you're a novice."
She grinned. "It must be beginner's luck."
"Must be."
Unfortunately, she didn't hook another one before he headed back to her. She really would have liked to show him up her first time out, but the odds were against it. That was okay. She could be happy and feel accomplished catching only one fish.
"You'd better hope the cops don't show and ask to see your license."
The thought of being in trouble set off her instincts, and she glanced over her shoulder to make sure they were still alone. She'd never gotten over being busted by her father and the ensuing nightmare. "I thought you were one of the officers around here."
"That's right." He walked out onto the outcropping next to her. "I could have you arrested for fishing without a license."
She dropped her jaw, knowing that he teased her, but that she was also probably being illegal. "Why didn't you tell me I needed a license?"
"What difference does it make? I could have purchased one before we left the house, but what ID would you use? You're a wanted woman."
"Thanks for reminding me." She elbowed him in the side, and he shifted his balance to avoid falling off the rock and in the water. It would serve him right. "Yet, you're standing there and encouraging me to break the law. What does that tell me about you?"
A wide grin split his lips. "I guess I'm one of the cops who prefers to follow the spirit of the law as opposed to being a hard ass about everything. We won't catch more than the limit for one person, okay?"
"Okay."
They stood side by side tossing out their lines and reeling in nothing. She didn't care. Just being there with Milo was enough for her.
"You mentioned college." He tossed his line again. "What did you get your degree in?"
"I have two bachelor degrees. One in education and one in mathematics."
He turned to her, a look of appreciation showing in his features. "Wow. I'm impressed. I didn't realize you were such a smarty-pants."
"Are you sure about that? I think you've been challenging me subtly since the moment we met." And turning her on and on with each passing second. "I get the impression you're a bit of a scholar yourself."
He shrugged. "Maybe. I do have a degree in criminal justice, but I think I've learned more being on the streets than I ever did in school."
She studied his face, the intelligence buried within his brilliant eyes. "I don't think it matters how one educates him or herself. Just that they do. Life is so much richer when a person takes the time to learn about the surrounding world."
"Agreed. But I have to say you're failing at one thing."
She drew her brows together, confused. "What?"
"The whole time you've been chatting, there's been a fish on your line."