by Cindy Stark
Milo took a step forward, but stopped when she continued speaking.
"I don't understand why you think this small town cop can protect me better than anyone else has. You haven't been able to keep me off the radar so far. How is some backwoods deputy going to be a match against the Trasatti men?"
Quinn cleared his throat and looked over his shoulder at Milo. "Ariana Trasatti, I'd like you to meet Milo Sykes. Milo, this is Miss Trasatti."
The smart-ass remark Milo had poised on the tip of his tongue evaporated when the woman turned. The unusual color of her eyes fell somewhere between green and blue and completely captivated him. She blinked a couple of times, her long lashes fluttering as her mouth turned downward into a frown. She tossed a nasty look at Quinn. "You knew he was behind me, didn't you?"
CHAPTER TWO
Quinn had been a constant thorn in Ariana's side from the moment he'd been assigned to her case. Of course she was grateful he'd done his best to keep her safe, and yes, she wasn't the easiest person to protect, but it was the snarky little things he did like letting her make an ass out of herself in front of Deputy Sykes that got under her skin. He obviously enjoyed one-upping her every chance he got. That was fine. Anything that challenged her these days was a godsend.
The small-town deputy certainly was not what she'd expected. She'd pictured him older, maybe overweight, with definitely a lazy expression on his face, not this blond Viking god with eyes the color of the Mediterranean Sea. If he wasn't wearing cowboy boots, she'd wonder if he was a mirage she'd conjured from spending too much time in the heat.
Ariana stood, tilting her head upward to meet his gaze as she extended her hand. "Deputy Sykes."
He smiled and grasped her hand, his eyes twinkling. Confidence radiated from his self-assured stance, and he didn't seem insulted at all by her unflattering remark. In fact, he seemed somewhat entertained by it.
"Miss Trasatti." The firmness of his grip along with the intelligence in his startlingly blue eyes set her on edge.
Quinn stood and shook Milo's hand as well. "Good to see you, buddy. You're looking fit. Except that little band-aid on your arm."
Indeed, he was. Ariana took advantage of their focus on each other to give the deputy a closer inspection. She wondered about the white bandage circling his arm, but said nothing.
The curve of Milo's grin showed obvious affection for his friend. "I could say the same. Life seems to be treating you well. Settled down yet?"
The dark-haired marshal shook his head, giving his friend a half-cocked smile. "Never. I've managed to elude that distraction this long. I think I'm safe."
Milo's brows shot upward. "Yeah, but you're so afraid of falling in love that you avoid the ladies. Think of all the fun you're missing." His gaze slid to Ariana's. They connected for the briefest of seconds, but it had been long enough to stir her blood and send her mind wandering.
She wanted to ask him if his look had been a warning or an invitation. Perhaps the look had been an unconscious view into his thoughts. Or maybe it had been nothing more than a coincidence that he'd glanced at her the moment he'd uttered those words.
It was also possible that utter boredom might have short-circuited her brain, causing her to imagine sexual encounters with the handsome deputy.
"How about you, Milo? I don't see a ring on your finger." Quinn threw the challenge back in his friend's face.
"Too busy having fun." Again, he looked at her.
"What?" She couldn't let the glance go unanswered this time. "Why do you keep looking at me?"
Milo kept his face expressionless as he studied her. Not a lifted brow, smile or frown to give away what he was thinking. "I'm just wondering how much trouble you're going to cause me with the ladies if I take you home...to keep you hidden, that is."
Again with the sexual innuendos. Both he and Quinn regarded her with interested looks. "I'll try to stay out of your way. Wouldn't want to damage that ladies' man reputation you seem so fond of."
Both of the men had the sense to appear chastised.
The smile dropped from Milo's face. "I apologize, Miss Trasatti. That remark was out of line. This is a business meeting. I'll try to remember that."
Quinn agreed. "I'm sorry, too. I've been around you enough I guess I got too comfortable, and I shouldn't have." He nodded at Milo. "And this guy has the tendency to bring out the worst in me." They exchanged quick grins.
Their apologies took her by surprise. She hadn't had her feelings recognized or valued by a man her entire life. The men in her family received respect. The women were there solely to serve and to please...at least while the men were around.
Since her first boyfriend, Danny, had been murdered eight years ago just after her sixteenth birthday, she'd spent very little of her social time around men. Her separation from boys during the first couple of years had been forced. Her father would not tolerate anyone of the male species touching his daughter again. After that, she'd avoided male relationships, partly out of fear of her father, and partly because she couldn't bear to lose someone else she loved.
She blinked, trying to process her emotions in a rational way. "No harm done." She took hold of her suitcase that rested next to the park bench. The nondescript black fabric bag contained everything she could now claim in her life. "Which way is your car?" The sooner this month ended, the better.
"Would you like me to get that for you?" Quinn asked.
"I can manage."
Milo took the suitcase from her hand, giving her a second surprise that morning. "Sorry, but my momma taught me how to treat a lady." He headed off toward the parking lot, acting as though her suitcase weighed nothing.
Ariana glanced at Quinn. He smiled and shrugged. "Milo will take good care of you. I promise. I feel safer leaving you with him than with anyone else in the world. He's a good man. Don't forget to keep your head down. Remember the rules."
She wanted to give him a snarky "yes, sir", but she knew he had her best interests at heart. "I will."
"One month, okay? You can do this."
For a quick moment, she wanted to cry. She wasn't sure what had brought on that unwanted emotion, but she didn't like it. She'd been taught from day one weakness would not be tolerated. Not from a Trasatti.
She pulled her sunglasses from her purse and slipped them on, using the opportunity to also don her mask of indifference. "You know me, Quinn. I'll survive."
"I know you will." He gave her hand a squeeze as they walked toward Milo's truck.
Milo opened the passenger door as she approached, and her nerves clutched her stomach, leaving her feeling sick.
"Your carriage, milady." Milo offered a gallant gesture indicating she should enter. She climbed into the vehicle that would whisk her away to the next unknown segment of her life.
"I won't be in constant contact like I've been before." Quinn told her. "I want it to appear as if you've vanished. This may be the only way to keep you safe." He tucked a small cell phone into her hand. "This can't be traced to either of us. Use it only in an emergency." His usual confident expression gave way to worry as he leaned in and hugged her.
"Okay." She worked to keep her voice steady. "Thanks for everything, Quinn. I appreciate it." Guilt soaked into her thoughts, making her wish she hadn't made his life harder than it had to be. He really had done his best protecting her.
He softly punched her arm. "See you in a month. Until then, I'll start working on that permanent exotic locale you've been requesting."
She blew out a breath weighted with anxiety. "Deal."
If only she could call her best friend and vent about her messed up life. One tiny call. Five minutes speaking with Kenzie could possibly save her sanity. Too many disturbing scenarios continually flooded her brain, and she couldn't help wondering about what had transpired back home after she'd agreed to work with the police. If she could just get a little news from Kenzie, she'd be able to relax. But phone calls, contact of any kind was strictly forbidden. Quinn had drilled tha
t mantra into her head a thousand times over.
* * *
Searing acid burned Manny Mincione's stomach as he made his way into the visiting room of the Cook County Jail. The air in the old building smelled like petrified urine, like it was never circulated. Like it was doing time with the rest of the inmates.
The feel of the whole building gave him the creeps. It was cursed. From what he'd heard, there weren't many guys who'd entered that left as whole as the day they'd came in. It wasn't like the juvie hall or local holding cells where he'd burned a fair amount of time. Hell, those had given him some valuable networking opportunities. Not this place. This place was purgatory as far as he was concerned.
John Trasatti had now spent eleven months residing in said hell. This was the first time his boss had summoned him. Half of Manny was insulted the mob boss didn't ask for him sooner. But the other half, the smart half, knew what would happen if he couldn't get the job done.
With his heart sloshing in sickening thumps, Manny slid into the visitor's chair. A few minutes later, the devil planted himself on the other side of the filthy glass. The prison garb that replaced Mr. Trasatti's fancy, fine suits only made him look more ruthless.
Manny picked up the phone. "Hey boss." He tried to sound cheerful as though they were meeting in a park on a Sunday afternoon to talk football or something.
Trasatti's face remained stone cold. Still as a dead man's. His glittering black eyes bored into Manny's as though he could rip out his soul through his sockets. "Words cannot express how disappointed I am, Manny."
Manny glanced at his hands, clasping his scar-encrusted fingers together to keep him from shaking. "I know, boss."
"Were my expectations unclear?"
"No, boss." Poor Sal and Johnnie Boy had known what was at stake.
"You're different, though. Right, Manny? I've treated you like family. Let you close to my own family."
"I know, Mr. Trasatti, sir. I appreciate the opportunities you've given me." It was true. He'd been counted as a family member on more than one occasion. Practically grew up with Paulie and had reported on Ariana through the years until she turned traitor. She'd never seemed that dense, but she had to know she couldn't be allowed to live. Not after what she'd done. Rules were the only things that kept their world operating in a civilized manner.
He dared a glance into the death-filled eyes. "I'm going to fix this for you, boss. I am."
"You are aware of the consequences."
Manny swallowed and nodded. From this point forward, it was him or Ariana, and as pretty as Miss Trasatti was, she didn't deserve life more than he did. "I'll handle things, boss. Don't you worry."
* * *
Milo didn't quite know what to make of his charge. As they entered another pine-filled canyon on their way to Aspen, he glanced at Ariana. She'd checked out over two hours ago, her head resting against the seat, her mouth slightly parted. It appeared she preferred to sleep than to converse with him in the confined vehicle.
The next four weeks should prove interesting. The Trasatti organization's case had intrigued him from the moment the story had broken. Long-lost evidence had surfaced after many years. Evidence that took out the head of the family. That had been the first chink in the Trasatti's armor. It couldn't be as painful as this crack, though. For many mobsters, family was everything. To have one turn traitor was an unforgivable sin. It was no wonder they'd relentlessly tried to track her.
Ariana muttered in her sleep, followed by an almost pained whimper. She jerked and then sat upright. He twisted his gaze to the windshield before she could catch him watching her. After a moment, he glanced back as though it was the first time he'd looked at her. "I'd say good morning, but it's closer to afternoon. We should hit town in about fifteen minutes."
She removed her sunglasses and fussed with her eyes. "I shouldn't sleep with my contacts in."
"Everything okay?"
She looked at him with a startled glance. "Yes. Why?"
He shrugged. He wasn't about to ask about her bad dream if she didn't want to discuss it. "No reason." He pressed on the accelerator, gaining speed to pass a slower moving vehicle. "We need to talk about your identity before we get to Aspen."
"What do you mean?"
"We need to figure out what name you're going to use. Give you some kind of a background in case you come in contact with the locals, even though I don't expect that to happen. We want you deep undercover."
She frowned. "The program is supposed to provide that. Name, identity, the whole thing."
"Didn't Quinn tell you? You're not exactly in the program at the moment."
She stared at him, then blinked. "What do you mean?" Her eyes flicked from window to window as though she were now seeing things through a different perspective.
Milo cursed. "I can't believe Quinn didn't fill you in. I used to be a U.S. Marshal, but I left three years ago. He called in a personal favor, asking me to keep you safe, but not within the confines of the program."
"But that's how I stay safe. I've read about the program. They've never lost a person who's followed the rules. Quinn pounded that into my head every single time I spoke with him. Now he's the one deviating?"
"After the number of times your identity has been compromised, he's concerned there might be a marshal who's gone rogue. He can't prove anything yet, but he's afraid to keep you in the system."
She widened her eyes and slumped in her seat. "You're kidding me."
"He's really going out on a limb for you. This is completely against protocol. If anyone finds out what he's done, he could lose his job. He plans on reporting you as AWOL."
"Then I'm not guaranteed safety."
"That's what I'm here for, darlin'." He smiled for her benefit, but he could clearly see the image of the last woman he'd protected. She really had broken the rules, and it had cost her dearly. The moment he'd lifted the sheet to identify the body remained etched in his mind forever. "Don't worry. I'll protect you with my life. Along with my previous marshal training, I served in a combat unit in Afghanistan, and as you know, I'm currently a deputy."
"Of a small town." Uncertainty colored her words.
"I don't want to brag, but you'd be hard-pressed to find a better shot than me." He didn't like having to defend his expertise.
"But you are bragging."
He sighed and glanced at her. "Because you're questioning my abilities."
"I want you to teach me to shoot like you do. I want to be able to protect myself."
He snorted. "I can teach you to shoot, but you're going to need years of practice if you want to come close to being the marksman I am."
She folded her arms. "Bragging again."
"I'm just telling it like it is."
She rolled her eyes and sighed. He knew his statement would get a reaction out of her. That's why he'd said it. He couldn't deny he'd like the chance to run his fingers along her skin and sample her soft lips, but she was a diva through and through. "Your perfume smells nice."
Confusion settled between her brows. "Thank you."
He loved turning the conversation on a dime. A tactic he'd found that kept people slightly off balance and left them more pliant. He sensed he'd need all his tools in order to survive the month.
"I think we'll call you Anna if necessary, although I'm not anticipating you coming into contact with anyone. It's a common name, but close enough to yours in case I screw up."
She shrugged. "What do I care? It's not like I'll have the opportunity to make friends here."
* * *
Ariana watched out the window as the small strip of businesses in Aspen came into view and then disappeared just as quickly. She blinked, wondering what happened to the rest of the town. She'd seen flashes of potted chrysanthemums, the city hall, and a tiny huddle of stores. "Is that it?"
He laughed. "That's it. Now you can see why no one will find you here. Most don't know this town exists."
Oh God. This was worse than the last four pl
aces combined. She'd hoped she'd be assigned somewhere habitable, but this…this was a punishment. Perhaps one she deserved.
How would she ever survive?
It was another ten minutes until Milo turned off the main highway, and then a couple more minutes down a bumpy, unpaved road. Plumes of dust kicked up behind them, leaving the sights in her rearview mirror nothing but a brown, hazy cloud.
The little square house sat at the end of the road like a disappointment. Shade from a huge honeylocust tree speckled the white-washed building and the surrounding lawn. A rickety wooden fence separated his home from green pastures. Out in the field, several cows grazed.
Milo pulled his truck right up to the front of the house, next to a marked sheriff's SUV. No driveway. No sparkling fountain surrounded by flowers and manicured lawns.
She tried to breathe through her frustration as he exited the vehicle. How had this happened? She was an educated, intelligent person, but her choices had backed her into corner that she hadn't seen coming.
Lord help her. She quite possibly had traded one version of hell for another.
Milo opened her door, and she turned her gaze in his direction, wishing she could plead for help. But she'd created this mess, and she had no choice but to see it through.
He narrowed his eyes. "Everything okay?"
"Of course." She wouldn't admit otherwise.
"You're pretty pale. Did the long drive get to you?"
"That must be it." The gravel driveway crunched when her heels hit the ground. She'd definitely be packing these shoes away for the duration and searching out something more durable. Fancy and fashionable would be eaten alive in this place.
She filled her lungs with air so fresh it stung as she took in her surroundings. There wasn't a house or car to be seen. "You're really isolated out here."
He looked around and smiled. "I like it this way."
"Don't you ever feel like you're going to be swallowed by the nothingness?"
"I don't know what you mean by nothingness. I look around and see everything good in the world. Blue sky, green grass, beauty as far as the eye can see. No smog. No noise pollution. How could anyone really miss those things?"
