Stealing Scarlett

by Isabella Snow

  “You must drink.” A pair of hands lifted her head as another held a bowl of chicken broth to her lips. It smelled delicious, and she did as they bade her, sipping it slowly. “How do you feel, bella?”

  Bella. The name took her mind straight to the man she’d sworn to hate for the rest of her life. A man she hoped to see behind bars as soon as she was well enough to call the authorities.

  “I feel better, thank you.” She wasn’t completely up to par, but she was definitely better than when she’d arrived.

  “What on earth drove you out into this weather, child?” The man’s voice sounded wise and soothing.

  “You wouldn’t believe me if I told you.” She groaned.

  “Try me.” He smiled and leaned back on his chair.

  * * * * *

  The heavy cabin door creaked open, and Chase smiled at the large man standing before him. “I’m sorry to disturb you at this hour, but I’m searching for a young American woman who may be lost.”

  The blond-haired man stepped outside and crossed his arms. “You must be Chase.” His accent was almost perfect.

  Chase arched a brow. “Correct.”

  “My name is Matteo ‑‑ please come in.” He stepped back and ushered him inside.

  Thankful for the invitation, Chase entered the cabin and scanned the interior. It consisted of one large room, a kitchen, and what appeared to be a washroom in the far back. Scarlett was nowhere to be seen.

  “Where is she?” he asked the Italian.

  “Carlotta!” The blond looked over his shoulder as a petite brunette emerged from the room at the back. “Say hello to Chase.”

  The woman laughed with delight and skipped over to the men, curtseying as she made his acquaintance. “We thought you might be a fantasy,” she greeted him, her accent also impeccable.

  Chase squared his jaw and faced the man. “Forgive me, but is she here or not?” He didn’t have time to waste on idle chat if Scarlett was still out there somewhere.

  “No, no, she left some time ago,” Matteo replied. “She was only here long enough for us to determine she was stable and not in need of emergency treatment.”

  “You’re qualified to make such an assessment?” Chase eyed the man warily.

  “Italy seems to think so.” The man pointed at the emblem on his sweater. “I head a mountain rescue taskforce, and Carlotta is a physician. We’re in town for tomorrow’s Spring Gala.”

  “Oh.” He couldn’t help sounding surprised. “But I don’t understand ‑‑ where is she now?”

  “With the Sisters.” Carlotta chimed in. “She wouldn’t give us a home address, and the monastery was the only other place we could think of. We really couldn’t have accommodated her with any measure of comfort.” She nodded toward the couple’s sleeping bags stretched across the pinewood floors.

  “We let her rest for a bit.” Matteo continued. “She was slightly delirious ‑‑ but very talkative.” The man’s brown eyes twinkled mysteriously.

  “Yes.” Carlotta giggled. “She had much to say.”

  Chase winced slightly, unsure he wanted to hear the rest.

  “We took her down the mountain on one of the ATVs.” Matteo grabbed his coat and headed for the back door. “Give me a few minutes, and I’ll take you to join her.”

  Chase was about to thank him when Carlotta drew his attention. “It’s so romantic, isn’t it?” She smiled, a dreamy look in her eye.

  “Sorry?” He gave her a strange look.

  “No woman mumbles a man’s name while feverish, unless madly in love with him.” She threw her arms up exaggeratedly. “She must have said your name thirty times while she was here. And she mentioned your engagement twice ‑‑ though we couldn’t quite make out what she was saying about it.”

  Chase cleared his throat uncomfortably. “I suspect her words were fueled by anger and not love.”

  Carlotta gasped. “But they go hand in hand, don’t you know this?” She placed her hands on her hips. “The more angry, the more deeply wounded, the more deeply in love.”

  He tilted his head to the side. Did he dare to hope there might be some truth in that?

  The back door swung open, and Matteo stuck his head inside. “Ready when you are!”

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Chase took a deep breath and knocked on the door. He’d never been to this part of the monastery, and hoped his presence wouldn’t cause much of a disturbance. Matteo had offered to stay a bit longer, but he’d sent the Italian home with the promise of repaying his generosity as soon as possible.

  Movement sounded from behind the door, and he cocked his head. Someone was watching him through the spyglass; he could feel it. Straightening himself, he did his best to look friendly, though he knew his size often prevented that. He was about to knock a second time, when the deadbolt turned. A scurrying of feet could be heard as the door opened. A tall, white-haired man stepped into the opening, a stern look on his face. Chase waited for him to speak, but the man remained silent.

  “Good evening, I’m looking for an American woman,” Chase began. “I’m told she was brought here earlier this evening.”

  The old man’s shawl slid down his shoulders, and his clerical collar was suddenly visible. The man remained silent, and Chase switched to Italian, repeating his previous statement in case the priest hadn’t understood him.

  “I’m Father Adamo, and I speak English,” came the curt reply. “You must be the fiancé Matteo spoke of.”

  Chase groaned inwardly, knowing he couldn’t lie to man of the cloth. “Not exactly.”

  “Oh?” The old man crossed his arms, indicating he’d already suspected as much.

  “My housekeeper is very old-fashioned ‑‑”

  “Moral, you mean,” the priest interrupted him.

  “I didn’t want Scarlett being thought poorly of, that’s all.” Chase looked the old man in the eye. “I didn’t want anyone thinking she was just a toy I’d brought home for the weekend.”

  Father Adamo started at him for long moment and then stepped back to let him pass. “Follow me.”

  Two very petite sisters shuffled out of the shadow and closed the door behind the two men. He wondered how much they’d heard ‑‑ and whether or not they’d understood. “Could you at least tell me if she’s still here, and if she’s all right?” Chase called ahead to his host.

  Ignoring his question, the priest led him down a long corridor and stopped in front of a set of double doors. Pushing one of them open, he turned to his guest and bowed his head. “After you.”

  Chase crossed the threshold and scanned the room. Both brows shot upward as the confessional came into view.

  “You can learn a lot about a man from the way he reacts to seeing one of those.” Father Adamo smiled and nodded toward the mahogany structure. “When was your last confession?”

  Despite the priest’s pleasant tone, it was apparent he had a bone to pick. “I’m not Catholic, Father.”

  “Pity. I’m sure you have a great deal to confess.” The priest’s smile deepened.

  Chase rubbed his eyes for a moment and took a deep breath. This wasn’t getting him anywhere. “Is Sister Sophia available, perhaps?”

  “I’m afraid not.” The old man clasped his hands behind his back. “The Lord sent us a rather distraught young woman this evening, and the Sister will not leave her side until she’s recovered.”

  “The young woman ‑‑ is she all right?” Chase took a step forward.

  “She will be, once she’s cleansed a certain impurity from her system.” The priest placed a special emphasis on the word “impurity.”

  He didn’t like the sound of that. “Which impurity would that be?” His tone was dry.

  “It’s more of a whom, really.” The white-haired man gave him a long, hard look.

  Chase went still for a moment, trying to determine the best way to resolve this. Clearly, the priest did not favor him. Ordinarily, that kind of thing wouldn’t faze him ‑‑ but if he wante
d to find Scarlett without tearing the place apart, he was going to have redeem himself somehow. “What did this man do that was so terrible?” he asked.

  “He was both selfish and careless with one of God’s creatures.” The old man walked over to a chair and sat down. “A creature to be cherished ‑‑ not kidnapped and hidden away for someone’s entertainment.”

  Chase groaned inwardly. She must have told him everything. “He kidnapped her, yes,” he admitted. “But for her own good ‑‑ she was about to ruin her life!”

  “How fortunate for her,” the priest’s tone was sarcastic. “No doubt her present state of health is a great improvement.”

  Chase’s lips formed a tight line. It was difficult to argue with that. Raising both arms into the air as a sign of surrender, he resolved to try one last time. “Father, I understand how it must look.”

  Father Adamo raised a challenging brow.

  “The truth is, Scarlett is a very headstrong woman who often lets her heart rule her mind.” He paused to choose his next words carefully. “I knew I wanted her the first night I laid eyes on her ‑‑ I even relocated to give us a chance to get better acquainted.”

  “And when that failed to pan out, you relocated her?” The old man cocked his head.

  Chase closed his eyes and bit his tongue. “No.” His voice was controlled and even. “She threatened to run away, and I just couldn’t let her.”

  “Seems she was rather determined.” The priest chuckled.

  A ringing filled the tiny room suddenly, and Chase pulled his cell phone out of his pocket. Apologizing for the interruption, he flipped the phone open, smiling as Rosalia’s voice came though. He’d forgotten to check in with her, and the poor woman was in a panic. He updated her quickly and explained that Scarlett had run off due to confusion over Natalia. The old woman laughed and promised him the girl would come to her senses.

  As he ended the call, the priest stood up and walked toward him. “Scarlett believes there is a second woman. Was it this Natalia you just mentioned?”

  “Yes ‑‑ I mean, no.” Chase shook his head. “Natalia Falcone is both a colleague and friend. Perhaps you know her?”

  “Falcone?” The old man looked surprised. “There is only one Falcone family in Savina. Is this the Natalia you refer to?”

  “Yes, that one exactly,” he confirmed.

  The priest shook his head and smiled. “Perhaps everything was not as it seemed, after all.”

  Chase sighed with relief. Finally, they were making some headway. “May I see her now?”

  “Do you love her?” Father Adamo gave him a solemn stare. “If not, I see no reason to let you. It would only deepen the wound.”

  He was still for a moment. He’d never proclaimed love for anyone, not even in jest.

  “If you have to think about it…” The other man lowered his head.

  “I don’t.”

  “Then what’s the answer?” a feminine voice called out from the doorway.

  Chase spun around to find Scarlett bundled in a giant comforter, flanked by tiny nuns on either side. She looked tired, but other than that, she was most surely a sight for sore eyes. “Scarlett.” The word left his lips in a rush.

  She could feel her eyes tearing up. He didn’t love her. He would have answered by now. Tightening the blanket around her shoulders, she turned to head back to her bed.

  “Wait.” His arms wrapped around her suddenly, and she closed her eyes as he pulled her back against his chest. “Give me a chance to explain.”

  “Fine.” She spun around to face him. “Start with Natalia. It’s either her or me; you can’t have both.”

  Chase smiled and gave her a fatherly look. “Natalia is a friend, nothing more.”

  “A friend with benefits!” She glared at him.

  The priest coughed behind them and shifted uncomfortably.

  “No, never.” He shook his head emphatically. “You need to stop jumping to conclusions all the damned time.”

  “I conclude you don’t love me!” She crossed her arms tightly.

  “Do you love me?” He touched her cheek softly. “Or are you too independent, headstrong, and modern to admit you might need a man in your life?”

  Scarlett gasped. “What a ridiculous thing to say!”

  “Really?” He swept a lock of hair behind her ear and pulled her close. “And if I’d proclaimed my love with flowers or something equally predictable, would you have wanted me?”

  She paused and looked up at him. Nearly every man she’d ever dated had done something similar to what he’d just described. It was always too easy, somehow, leading to an intense feeling of boredom shortly thereafter. “I don’t know,” she admitted.

  A commotion sounded from the hall suddenly, as several voices made their way down the corridor. Everyone turned toward the door as a very worked-up Rosalia ran through it. Scarlett smiled as the old woman rushed toward her, arms waving in the air. The woman pulled her out of Chase’s arms and wrapped herself around Scarlett’s thin frame, hugging her tightly and sobbing something in Italian.

  “She’s happy you’re alive,” Chase translated for the old woman. “And says she’ll kill you if you ever try anything like that again.”

  Laughter filled the room as Rosalia ended the hug and nudged her back into Chase’s arms, indicating she should stay put this time. Smiling thinly, Scarlett obliged, if only to keep the peace. She caught sight of Silvio and another elderly woman in the doorway and nodded a friendly hello. The other woman, despite appearing slightly bruised and bandaged, smiled cheerfully and stepped forward, extending her hand toward Scarlett.

  “Scarlett, may I introduce Natalia, my secretary ‑‑ you’ve already met her grandsons, Nico and Lucca.”

  “A pleasure.” The old woman bowed slightly. “I dropped by the chateau to find out what had Chase in such a frantic state, and Rosalia filled me in. We’re very happy to see you’re all right.”

  Scarlett felt her smile fade as shock set in. Natalia was easily seventy years old. She turned to look at him over his shoulder, blushing at his I-told-you-so expression. But how could she have known?

  “You’re going to have to start trusting me at some point,” he chided her gently.

  Her head was spinning. She wanted to throw herself in his arms, to kiss him, and tell him she loved him, but she just wasn’t sure he felt the same. “You never answered Father Adamo’s question.” She looked down at her feet, unsure she really wanted to hear it.

  “What do you think the answer is?” He turned her around and stared into her eyes.

  “I think you’re in lust,” she declared.

  “I can’t deny I enjoy having you in my bed.” He smiled.

  Father Adamo coughed again and started humming to himself. No doubt to keep the sinner’s words from reaching his saintly ears!

  “Do you think we could keep the conversation appropriate for church?” she scolded him.

  “Of course.” He held her hand and took a step backward before kneeling at her feet. “Marry me.”

  Shrieks of excitement bounced off the walls as a cluster of tiny women jumped for joy. Sister Sophia ran into the room, twirling about with a gorgeous cream-colored dress. “You have perfect dress for marrying!” she bubbled happily.

  “She hasn’t answered, yet,” he reminded them, his eyes never leaving her face.

  Scarlett barely heard him over the sound of her own heart. The only man she’d ever really and truly wanted had just proposed to her. “Yes…” The words left her lips on a whisper. “Yes.”

  Father Adamo informed the sisters of her answer ‑‑ cleverly adding “again” for the benefit of those who thought they were already engaged, and the room erupted with cheers. Chase stood up and pulled her close, a playful grin on his face. “Does this mean you’ll do the Granger meeting Wednesday?”

  “Will you spank me if I don’t?” She grinned back.

  “I’ll spank you, regardless.” He chuckled as he wrapped his arms ar
ound her.

  “I’d thought I was dreaming.” She sighed peacefully. “Now I know it’s just your average fairytale.” She giggled.

  His eyes sparkled mischievously as he lowered his lips to hers. “Might I suggest you kiss me, before I turn back into a frog?”

  She didn’t need to be told twice.

  Isabella Snow

  Isabella Snow is the classic alpha female in search of an alpha male. Having lived in Brooklyn, Philadelphia, Austin, Amsterdam and now Prague, she’s come to realize just how endangered the species really is. To console herself, she spends vast amounts of time creating the perfect male via her writing.

  Focusing on contemporary erotic romance, Isabella specializes in the capture/forced submission subgenres. Cos nothing says lovin’ like a man who takes what he wants. Especially when he’s gorgeous and built like a Greek God.

  In her spare time she enjoys shooting pool, playing chess and any manner of intellectual debate.