Of Blood and Bone (The Minaldi Legacy)

by Courtney Cole

  “What’s going on?” Luca asks. He’s as handsome as ever, even with the light sheen of perspiration gleaming on his brow. His dark hair is damp as he brushes it out of his eyes. His shirt is soaked through at the top. From the looks of it, he’s been running for awhile but he’s not even breathing hard.

  Marianne answers before I do.

  “They found the third girl. We think,” she adds. “Eva found her. The polizia won’t confirm it, but Eva saw a tattoo on her shoulder. It’s the girl.”

  Luca looks appalled. “She’s dead?”

  I nod. “Very. It looks like sharks got her.”

  “Oh. So she wasn’t murdered?” Luca is surprised now. I shrug.

  “I don’t know. They aren’t saying what they think. She could’ve drowned, I guess, and the sharks ate her remains. Or maybe she was murdered, then dumped into the sea.”

  Luca is somber again, shaking his head. He is a handsome and polished, even here.

  “Either way, you shouldn’t be here, Evangeline. This isn’t a place for you.”

  His concern for my wellbeing makes my heart quicken.

  “I have to be,” I tell him quietly. “I found her and they want my statement.”

  He stares at me for a scant moment before he turns on his heel and walks to the lead detective. They speak for a moment in words that I can’t hear before they both return to me. The detective is wearing rumpled clothing and is distracted, but he pulls out a little notebook and pen and turns his attention to me.

  He says, in a very thick Maltese accent, “I apologize for your wait, Miss Talbot.”

  “Dr. Talbot,” Luca corrects him. The detective nods.

  “Dr. Talbot,” the detective amends. “Can you tell me how you found the body?”

  “Is it Annica Rossi?” I ask. The detective shakes his head.

  “We can’t confirm that yet,” he says. “But it is a possibility.”

  I inhale shakily and then tell him how I found her. It only takes a minute because there isn’t much to tell. He writes down what I say and then tells me that they will get back to me if they have any further questions. He thanks me and then leaves. Our interaction only took five minutes, after I waited forty-five for him to get to me.

  I turn to Luca. “Thank you for expediting that process.”

  He shrugs. “It was nothing. You didn’t deserve to wait out here in the dark. Come. I’ll walk you home.”

  Marianne looks at me. “I’ll see you tomorrow, bella,” she says. “Lock your doors and just use common sense, alright?”

  I nod. It’s clear that she doesn’t think Annica Rossi drowned. I don’t either.

  I watch her retreat toward her restaurant before I look back at Luca.

  “You don’t need to walk me home,” I tell him. “It’s unnecessary.”

  “Perhaps,” he answers. “But I want to. It would make me feel more comfortable. You’ve had a rough evening. It’s the least I can do.”

  “Okay,” I reply. “Thank you.”

  He touches my elbow lightly as I get up from the driftwood. His touch is electric and I can still feel the imprint of his fingers long after he removes them from my skin. For some reason, I ache to lean back into it, into his warmth. I decide it must be the emotional toll that this evening has taken on me.

  Luca walks me to my scooter and then he pushes it as we walk. It doesn’t take us very long to reach my cottage and we don’t talk very much along the way. The night has been sobering, the events of it thoroughly quenching my good mood.

  “Would you like a cup of tea?” I ask as Luca delivers me to my door. He looks at me. I can feel him examining me, studying my motives. His gaze practically burns my skin and I struggle to not fidget beneath it as I wait for his decision.

  Finally, he asks, “Do you have Scotch?”

  I have to laugh as I shake my head. “Um, no. I don’t. But I have wine.”

  “That will do,” he answers. He waits while I unlock the door and he tells Grendel to stay on the porch. The dog immediately sits and watches the perimeter with alert eyes.

  Luca sits on my patio as I dig around for a corkscrew. I finally locate one, open the wine and bring it along with two glasses to the small table on the patio.

  “Where were you the other night?” I ask him. “You said you wanted a report and then you weren’t there.”

  He stares back at me calmly. “I had a matter to attend to. I apologize for not seeing you. Evangeline, are you all right?” he asks me as I pour him a glass of wine.

  I notice that my fingers are shaking, sloshing the blood red liquid onto the sides of the glass. This is probably why he asked. I grip the crystal glass tighter.

  I nod. “I’m fine. I just hadn’t been expecting to find a murder victim today.”

  Luca looks grim. “I’m sure. But it is possible that she wasn’t murdered. She could have simply gone into water that she shouldn’t have.”

  I stare at him, at the way his mouth is pressed into a line.

  “You don’t believe that,” I observe.

  “No,” he admits. “But I didn’t want to alarm you.”

  “I’m already alarmed,” I tell him. “I’m trying not to be, but I’m here alone in a tiny cottage not even half of mile from this latest victim. I would be a fool if I wasn’t afraid.”

  “You’re not a fool,” Luca answers. “It’s clear that you’re anything but that.”

  His dark eyes are so dark that they are almost black as he stares at me. The sky above us is just as black and with his dark hair, he seems to melt into it. He smells like some exotic blend of masculine spices. I want to lean forward ever so slightly and inhale his neck. And then I am startled by my own impulse. It is so unlike me.

  “No, I’m not,” I answer. But my thoughts conflict with that notion.

  I don’t know if it is the emotion of the evening, but I find that all I want him to do is lean forward and kiss me, to wrap his strong arms around me and hold me there, against the safety of his chest. But of course he doesn’t, so I take a slow sip of my wine. He watches me.

  “Are you going to be alright?” he asks. “You’re still shaking. Do you need a jacket?”

  “I’m not cold,” I tell him, although the breeze is slightly chilly. “I’m just rattled. But yes, I will be fine.”

  His wine glass is empty so I fill it up and then top mine off, as well. My hand is still shaking and I sigh.

  “Maybe I’m not fine,” I admit. “I’ve never seen anything like that before. And even though my brain knows that I’m safe as long as my doors and windows are locked, my body apparently doesn’t believe it.”

  Luca smiles sympathetically. “That’s completely normal,” he answers. “I don’t know anyone in their right mind who wouldn’t be upset. Honestly, I’d wonder about you if you weren’t.”

  “You aren’t upset,” I point out. He smiles again and I can see that he is tired.

  “I wasn’t the one who found her,” he answers. “It’s easy for me to remain calm. And although I’m calm, I am upset by the situation. It’s unnerving. In fact, I have an idea. Why don’t I stay here tonight? That might put you at ease and you can get some rest. I’ll sleep on the couch.”

  I glance at his face and find that it is a serious offer, but I automatically reject the idea.

  “No, no. I could never impose on you in such a way. I’m sure you have a king-sized luxurious bed waiting for you at Chessarae. I’d never put you on my couch. Or even in my tiny little bed. But thank you very much for offering. It’s very gentlemanly of you.”

  He stares at me again, his gaze as black as night. The moonlight brushes softly against the chiseled features of his face and I inhale sharply at the expression I find there.

  “Oh, make no mistake,” he tells me softly. “I’m not that much of a gentleman, much to my mother’s dismay.”

  My breath hitches in my throat and I stare at him, into his stormy gaze before he laughs.

  “Evangeline, truly. I want to stay
. It will make me feel better. I won’t sleep well knowing that you are frightened and alone. In fact, if you’d like, we could both return to Chessarae and you could sleep there. In your own room, of course,” he adds.

  “I couldn’t impose on you in that way, either,” I tell him.

  “So, I’ll stay here. No problem,” he replies, as though he knew that I wouldn’t come to Chessarae. “Just give me a blanket and I’ll be fine on the sofa.”

  I look at him doubtfully. “Are you sure?”

  He nods. “Quite sure. Trust me, no harm will come to you while I am standing watch.”

  His words actually comfort me and I feel a sense of relief that I won’t be alone tonight. He sees the acceptance on my face.

  “Wonderful,” he says as he takes the last gulp of his wine and stands up. “All I’ll need is a blanket.”

  I smile at him in gratitude. “I can’t believe I’m letting you do this. But thank you. Very much.”

  He shakes his head. “Don’t mention it. You came out to Chessarae and calmed my mother down when you didn’t have to. I am in your debt.”

  We return into the house and Luca locks the door. I find him an extra blanket and then pause at my bedroom door.

  “Thank you,” I say again. “Really.”

  He settles onto the couch, with his legs hanging off the end. “It’s not a problem.”

  He looks horribly uncomfortable on the small little sofa, but I smile at him anyway and close the door to my bedroom.

  I am so weary that I don’t remember even changing into pajamas before I fall into a heavy sleep.

  Dreams instantly plague me.

  Nightmares.

  I see Annica washing up over and over on the beach, but this time, she is right below my cottage. She rolls in the surf, her skin gray and cold and dead. Her arms and legs are still torn off, but she is facing upward this time. Her eyes are glued to mine and her mouth is speaking. I bend to hear her. Help me, Eva.

  And then she starts to scream and snakes slither from her mouth; huge black snakes with red eyes. There are so many of them and they all head straight for me, moving quickly through the sand. And behind them, my brother Christopher replaces Annica. And more and more snakes slither from his decomposing body and glide through the sand toward me.

  I scream.

  And hands are restraining me.

  I open my eyes and Luca is with me.

  I grow still as I look at him.

  He stares back at me in concern and he is not wearing a shirt. His skin is warm against my arm and my eyes meet his.

  “You were screaming,” he says uncertainly.

  I don’t say anything.

  Instead, without thinking, I grab him and clutch him to me, hiding my face in his bare, warm shoulder. He startles, then wraps his arms around me, holding me close. I don’t even realize that I am crying until his skin beneath my cheek turns wet.

  “Shh,” he soothes me, stroking my hair with his smooth hand. “You’re alright, Evangeline. I’m here. You’re safe.”

  I sniff, trying to choke back the tears, trying to hide my distress. But emotions that I keep well-hidden are erupting and there is nothing I can do but let them come.

  Luca holds me for the longest time, waiting until I have cried myself out, holding me closely and not asking any questions. His voice is soothing and low in the dark and honestly, it is the sound of it that brings me back from the edge of hysteria.

  When I am finally quiet and still, Luca pulls away from me and stares into my eyes. He lifts a thumb and wipes an errant tear from my cheekbone.

  “Are you going to tell me what is making you so upset?”

  I sit still for a moment.

  “I’m sorry,” I tell him and my voice is so quiet in the stillness, in the night that wraps around us. “My brother died years ago, when I was seven and he was four. I found him. He was floating in the lake behind my parents’ house. Finding Annica like I did brought the memories back and I had a horrible nightmare about both of them.”

  Luca pulls me to him again, but not before I see the sympathy on his face, tender and gentle.

  “That must have been horrible for you,” he murmurs as he strokes my back with his fingers. “You were too young to have seen something so horrible.”

  “It was horrible,” I agree, burying my face once again in his chest. “For so many reasons. It was the downfall of my parents’ marriage. My father, who has always been a little irresponsible, was supposed to have been watching Christopher while my mother worked the night shift at the hospital. Sometime in the night, Christopher got up and ventured outside. We don’t know why he went into the lake. I found him in the morning.”

  I’m all cried out now. I have no tears left, but I remain ensconced in Luca’s arms. He is a comforting presence right now and even through my distress, I marvel at how his personality can change in an instant. He can go from impassive to commanding to sympathetic and comforting in the space of one moment. Mercurial.

  “I’m sorry that happened to you,” he says softly, ducking his head to look into my eyes. “I really am. I can’t imagine what I would do if that had happened to one of my brothers. You must be a very strong person. You were a very strong little girl, too, I’m sure.”

  I shake my head. “I don’t feel like it right now,” I admit to him. “I don’t feel strong at all.”

  His dark eyes are understanding, so fathomless and black. They seem like such deep pools that I might fall into and drown in.

  “It’s okay to be vulnerable sometimes,” he tells me. “You’re only human.”

  “You’re very kind,” I answer. I push the hair out of my eyes and try to ignore the warmth that being near him generates, the fluttery feelings in my belly. I want him and try as I might, there is no ignoring that. I have to recognize and admit that I want this man.

  On impulse, before I can think the better of it, I lean forward and kiss him. I wrap my arms around his neck and pull him to me; inhaling, feeling, touching, absorbing. I am lost tonight, sad on a very basal level, and Luca can fill the void in my heart.

  If only for tonight.

  His mouth is soft, yet masculine. His day-old stubble grazes the softness of my cheek and he tastes like warm wine. He is hesitant at first, holding his body very still as I press myself into him. My softness meets his firmness and I sigh into his mouth. At the sound, his hands grip at my back, sliding and moving until they are running along my spine and up into my hair. His fingers are strong and he deepens the kiss, pushing his tongue into my mouth as he pulls me tightly to him.

  His chest is rock hard and his biceps are wiry bands of muscle wrapped around my back. The air hangs heavy around us, charged with sexual energy. It threads over and under, weaving between us, pulling us closer. We are enmeshed now and I don’t know where I end and he begins; that is how closely we are tangled.

  Luca’s breathing is ragged and his smell is intoxicating. I inhale as deeply as I can with his tongue wrapped around mine.

  It is everything that I thought kissing him would be.

  And then he stops.

  The air around us is charged and hot and magnetic, but Luca is motionless as he stares down at me, his beautiful eyes fixed upon mine.

  My heart is racing as I stare back at him.

  “I can’t, Evangeline,” he tells me regretfully. “You’re distraught, not yourself. This isn’t right.”

  I take a second to catch my breath, to bring myself under control. I know my cheeks are flushed. I can feel the heat staining them, evidence of the rejection that I feel.

  But he’s right and I know it, so I nod.

  “Okay,” I whisper. “But I thought you weren’t a gentleman.”

  Luca smiles in the dark and starts to get up, to return to the living room couch, but that thought makes anxiety shoot through me and I tug on his arm.

  “Please stay,” I tell him. “I can’t get the nightmares out of my head and I know they’re going to come back. I keep seeing he
r face. And Christopher’s.”

  My voice breaks off in the dark and Luca looks down at me gently. And then, without even complaining or commenting on the size of the bed, he sits back down and curls behind me, wrapping his strong arms around my waist. His scent curls around me like a blanket and I inhale, feeling calm for the first time all evening.

  “Sleep,” he tells me. “I’m right here.”

  He stays with me all night.

  Chapter Sixteen

  Luca

  When I wake, I am hard.

  While it is not uncommon for a man to wake with an erection in the morning, I know it is not a by-product of Mother Nature, but because I am pressed against Evangeline’s very lovely backside. I mentally groan. Why did I do this to myself?

  The memory of her frightened and sad face from last night flits through my mind in answer.

  That’s why.

  I disentangle myself from the covers as gently as I can so that I don’t wake her. Her hair is spread over her pillow like a cloud of deep red silk. In sleep, she is vulnerable and soft. I bend down, without thinking, and kiss her forehead. She doesn’t stir and I don’t know why I did that.

  I make my way out to the living room and pull my shirt on, then hunt for coffee in her kitchen. After I find it, I put some on to brew, then check on Grendel. He’s still lying right where I left him.

  “Good boy,” I tell him through the door. He looks at me and his tail thumps twice on the ground, but he won’t get up until I tell him that he can.

  “You’re up,” a soft voice says from behind me.

  I turn to find Evangeline standing in the doorway of her bedroom. Her hair is still sleep-tousled and she’s still in her pajamas. She’s as sexy as anything I’ve ever seen and I swallow hard. Her pajama shorts are very, very short. I suck in my breath.

  I cannot allow myself to be affected by this woman.

  I nod.

  “Yes. And there’s coffee on.”

  Gratitude shimmers in her eyes and I can see that she is like me. Coffee is the first thing she thinks about. She patters out to the kitchen and pours a cup before it is even finished brewing. She blows on it, then sips at it. She looks at me.