In For the Kill

by Shannon McKenna

“She was part French,” Sveti said. “Raised in Paris. She met my father while visiting her mother’s family in the Ukraine.”

  “And Renato? Who’s he?”

  “Renato Torregrossa. Her Italian boyfriend,” Sveti said. “A rich Italian count. He was a bigwig in some multinational pharmaceutical company. Had a fancy villa by the sea. I never met him. Or wanted to.”

  “And the labyrinth, the tree of life? What’s that about?”

  “I don’t know,” Sveti said. “She just talked that way. She was a lit professor. She liked poetic metaphors.” She read on.

  I had hoped to spend Christmas holidays with you here, but it will not be possible until spring. I am in the middle of an assignment that takes all my attention. Come for spring vacation instead, and we will swim together in the Mediterranean in April. Don’t be angry at me, love. Be strong. You’ll find your strongest weapon buried in all this garbage.

  All my love, always. Until spring,

  Mama

  “She died ten days after that letter is dated,” she said softly.

  “Where is this Renato?” Sam asked.

  Sveti turned the letter over, indicated the return address, penned on the letter. “I have the address of the Villa Rosalba.”

  “I’ll find him,” Val said.

  “No, don’t,” Sveti said. “I’ll find him. I will talk to him personally.”

  Val frowned. “Sveti. We have experience that you do not.”

  “I don’t want him on his guard. It makes sense for me to want to talk to someone who knew Mama and spent time with her. It’s entirely different if a group of foreigners start making threatening noises!”

  Tam’s mouth curved. “Thank you for that vote of confidence.”

  “Don’t touch it,” Sveti said. “Promise me.”

  Sean drummed his fingers against the table. “Moving on,” he said. “If you’re going to Europe no matter what we say, who goes with you?”

  “I will cover her while she is in Italy,” Val said. “But we must think in longer terms for London.”

  “I’ll check SafeGuard’s roster of bodyguards,” Sean said.

  “I’ll go.” The offer flew out before Sam could gauge its insanity level. Which he instantly realized was very high.

  Sveti gaped at him, blank. “Go . . . what? Go where?”

  “With you,” he repeated. “To Italy. And England. You know. To protect and serve.”

  Nick’s eyes were cold. “You opportunistic son of a bitch.”

  Tam exchanged speculative glances with Val. “The idea has merit. He’d be earning his oxygen. And we wouldn’t have to trip over him around here. There’s definitely something to be said for that.”

  Sveti sputtered, wordlessly. She finally found her voice. “No way!” she burst out. “I cannot afford to hire a goddamn bodyguard!”

  “I work cheap,” Sam said.

  Several men in the room exploded with quickly stifled laughter. The women in the room shot them quelling glances.

  “Looking to score some points, huh?” Nick demanded.

  “What if I am? She’ll have her back covered all the same.”

  “And plenty else besides, I bet,” Tam said dryly.

  “You won’t do her much good in Italy if you don’t speak the language,” Val said.

  “I speak Italian,” Sam said.

  Val’s face froze, mouth slightly open. “Non mi hai mai detto che parli italiano,” he said. You never told me you speak Italian.

  “Non mi hai mai chiesto,” Sam replied. You never asked. He continued, in Italian. “I spent time there as a child, and studied there, in college. I speak French, Spanish, and Italian. My sister speaks Japanese and Mandarin, too. I’m the underachiever of the family.”

  Tam snorted. “Listen to him. A Florentine accent, of all things.”

  “Wow,” Sean said with a low whistle. “Didn’t see that coming.”

  “I’m not surprised at all,” Tam said. “You forget that Sam here isn’t like the rest of us hardscrabble proles. He’s the Petrie princeling, massaged and molded to take up the reins of global leadership.”

  “Shut up, Tam,” Sam muttered.

  “But you’re a rebel, Sam,” Tam went on. “You turned away from the big money to wallow in the worst cruelty that humanity can inflict upon itself. Vice and homicide, on the big city streets. Why, I wonder?”

  He shook his head. It was none of her goddamn business, for one thing, and for another, he truly didn’t know. He chose not to examine his own motives that closely. It never led anywhere good.

  “I can’t take my firearms to Europe,” he said to Val. “I’ll need to score some weapons once I get there. You have contacts?”

  “I’ll set you up,” Val said. “You understand what is expected of you, no? You must be with her every second of every day.”

  “No, he will not!” Sveti yelled. “I will not be—”

  “I’ll follow her into the ladies’ room when she pees,” Sam broke in. “I’ll follow her into the changing rooms where she shops.”

  “I’m not going there to shop!” Sveti’s face was bright red again.

  Sam pressed on. “I’ll sleep across the threshold of her door.”

  “That I doubt,” Tam said. “You’ll find a warmer, softer nest.”

  “I can’t ask Hazlett to buy another ticket!” Sveti protested.

  “I’ll cover my own ticket,” he said.

  “Money’s not an issue, with Samuel Petrie,” Tam said. “Did you not see the suit he wore to the wedding? His portfolio almost equals my own. And loaded as he is personally, his family is still more loaded. We’re talking the top one percent of the top one percent.”

  “You hacked into my bank accounts?” Sam demanded. “Why?”

  “I had to know everything there was to know about a man who looked at my girl the way you looked at her,” Tam said coolly. “Did you think we wouldn’t notice?”

  “What does my portfolio have to do with me perving on Sveti?”

  “Not much, but I found it entertaining just the same,” Tam said. She turned back to Sveti. “He has a huge trust fund, too, but he’s never touched it. It sits there, desolate, accruing interest like barnacles. This pathological lack of interest in such a large sum of money strikes me as suspicious. It hints at deep-seated control issues in his family. Though he does well on his investments with his own money. Are you bored to the point of suicide yet, Sam? Bummer about your detective job. You hero types, so desperate for validation. You have to put your ass on the line to earn the very air you breathe, hmm?”

  “Leave him alone, Tam,” Sveti whispered. “He doesn’t deserve it.”

  “Aw, look at that,” Tam crooned. “Defending him, how sweet. I’ve often wondered why a guy would choose to live in a forties-era two-bedroom bungalow in grotty North Portland and pull a government salary when he has that fat, soft cushion of money. He could just lie back on it and drift away on a slow-flowing river of bourbon, hmm?”

  “Fuck off, Tam,” Sam said. “You know nothing about me.”

  Tam’s smile was catlike. “I know when I’ve hit a nerve.”

  “Stop it,” Sveti said. “I don’t want to watch you hit nerves.”

  Tam opened her mouth, paused, and closed it with a snap. “Have it your way. The point is, Sam can afford to go to Italy a thousand times over. And nothing makes a man as focused as a sexual obsession.”

  “It’s my decision!” Sveti was on her feet. “I don’t want someone breathing down my neck, following me into the bathroom! And it’s not economically feasible or sustainable in any way! Who pays for it?”

  “You can’t stop me from coming,” Sam said.

  “Sure I can!” she shot back. “I’ll tell the cops you’re stalking me!”

  “Yeah, you do that. It adds lots of credibility to your testimony. They’ll figure it’s not just PTSD, but a personality disorder, too.”

  Sveti’s face contracted. “Oh, shut up.”

  “Just say
ing,” he murmured.

  There was an awkward pause, and Becca piped up. “Well, then. If she doesn’t want Sam to go, let’s look again at SafeGuard.”

  “I’m going, no matter who you send,” he said.

  Sveti slapped her hands on the table in a rare show of temper. “I can’t pay for SafeGuard!”

  “So opt for the bargain-basement option,” Tam reminded her. “Behold, Sam Petrie, with his lustful gaze and his volunteer services, if you’re uncomfortable letting us hire someone.” Her eyes raked him. “But I’m sure he’ll get his just recompense out of you.”

  Liv winced. “Ouch.” She leaned over and laid a hand on Sveti’s arm. “Honey. When you’re in Europe, will you do something for me?”

  Sveti looked wary. “What?”

  Liv tugged at her hand, taking off a ring, a thick, complex snarl of yellow and white gold. “Wear this.” She held it out.

  Sean whistled. “Wow, babe. Really? That’s the first time I’ve seen you take that thing off since Osterman bit the dust.”

  “I want Sveti to wear it,” Liv said quietly. “It’s lucky.”

  “Oh, no! I can’t take it!” Sveti held up her hands. “You should keep it, Liv. It’s your talisman. It saved your life!”

  “And besides, I could give Sveti the prototype,” Tam offered.

  “No,” Liv said stubbornly. “This one’s better. It’s been through the fire. It’s all charged up and ready to rock.” Her eyes flicked to him. “Kind of like Sam.” When Sveti still hesitated, she grabbed the younger woman’s hand and slid the ring on. “I’ll feel safer if you’re wearing it. God, your fingers are tiny. Wear it on your index finger. Yes, that fits.”

  Sveti held out her hand. The ring gleamed, lavish and voluptuous, and subtly dangerous, as if it could come to life and start writhing.

  Sam eyed it suspiciously. “Is that one of Tam’s designs?”

  “Of course,” Tam purred. “I hope it makes you nervous, Sam. That is its prime function, after all.”

  “Nonsense,” Liv said, squeezing Sveti’s hand. “It’s just for luck. ”

  “Thank you,” Sveti whispered, staring down at the ring.

  “We just want you to be safe,” Liv said earnestly. “And happy.”

  “Happy?” Sveti’s mouth shook, as if she were going to burst into tears. Then Sam realized that the silent shaking was laughter.

  “Yes, happy!” Liv sounded defensive. “I don’t think that’s too much to hope, for a person as wonderful and as deserving as you!”

  “I am happy,” Sveti said. “I have all my organs. I’m not chained to a sewing machine in a basement in the Philippines, or handcuffed to a bed in a Cambodian brothel. No one’s chopped off my hands or put out my eyes and sent me to beg on a street corner in Bombay.”

  “Sveti, baby. Calm down, please,” Liv pleaded.

  “I’m perfectly calm!” Sveti jumped to her feet. “What do I have to be upset about? I’m fucking ecstatic, but I won’t let myself be jerked around, not even by people I love, and owe.” She marched out and pulled the doors shut, slam. Glass shivered in the mahogany frame.

  Shit. She’d bailed on him again, like she had at the wedding. Left him high and dry with these people.

  Sean whistled. “Whoa. That girl needs to lighten up.”

  “A tricky proposition,” Lara observed. “Considering.”

  “You. Petrie.” Tam’s voice rang out like the crack of a whip. “So? Hop to it. What are you waiting for? Get to work.”

  “Work?” Sam looked around wildly. “How? What work? Here?”

  Tam rolled her eyes. “On her.” She spoke with exaggerated slowness. “Lighten her up. Show her a good time. Earn your oxygen, if you breathe it in this house. Go . . . go stir her with your magic stick.”

  Nick flinched. “Tam. Spare me.”

  “I spare no one, as Sam will soon have reason to know. Petrie!”

  Her voice snapped him around as if drawn up by a tether. “Yeah?”

  “Protect her, in Italy and London.” Her voice was menacing. “Make her happy. Or else I will fuck. You. Up. Understood?”

  He took off like a shot, to earn his oxygen.

  CHAPTER 11

  Sveti pressed her hot forehead against the window glass, shaking.

  The door opened, making her jump. Sam, of course. He shut the door, locked it. As if he had every right to. And God knows, he did.

  “You can’t come to Italy,” she blurted. “That wasn’t the plan.”

  “Plans change.” His voice was so calm. It maddened her.

  “Not like this. Not . . .” She waved her hands. “You don’t understand. This whole thing. You and me. Coming to your house the other night. It was all predicated on the fact that I was leaving. I would never have done it otherwise. I would never have led you on like that.”

  He shook his head. “You really know how to stroke a guy’s ego. Why be so uptight? Don’t worry. Take it one day at a time. Don’t stress.”

  “It doesn’t make any sense,” she protested. “Following me to Europe, gratis? When your life is here, your work, your family—”

  “What life?” he said. “What work? And my family bites my ass. I’m willing to put distance between me and my family. You catch me at a unique time in my life, Sveti. I have no compelling reason right now not to follow you across the world.”

  She squeezed her eyes shut. How bad could it get, if her pattern held? The nightmares, the flashbacks. And how did she explain that nasty, toxic shit to a gorgeous, brave, sexy, wonderful guy who just wanted to be her boyfriend? “But I can’t offer you anything that would make it worth your while,” she insisted. “I just can’t.”

  “Let me decide what’s worth my while,” he said. “There’s nothing on earth I’d rather do with my time than prevent scumbags from killing you.” His dimples flashed. “And spending all my downtime draped over your naked body, of course. But hey. No pressure.”

  She brushed aside his invitation to keep it light and playful. “I can handle myself, Sam. Val can get me a weapon once I’m there. I have combat training. I’m not helpless. I learned to shoot from Tam and Nick; I studied martial arts with Davy and Sean and all the rest. And I know more about drugs and poisons from Tam than you ever want to hear.”

  “Right,” he said. “You can repeat that for days on end, and I’ll still keep seeing you with your head and shoulders in a tub of ice water.”

  She waved that away. “I was off my guard yesterday. I won’t be ever again. Plus, I’ll be less of a spectacle by myself. I just need to fall off the face of the earth for a while, let everyone forget that I—”

  “Do not insult my intelligence,” Sam said. “A girl who looks like you will always attract attention. When you start doing your thing, you’ll attract even more. You’ll be splashed all over every media that exists. Schoolgirls will write essays about how you inspire them. You’re doing the opposite of going into hiding. Don’t bullshit me, Sveti. Ever.”

  “But I can’t make it worth your while, Sam,” she said, desperately. “I swear. I just can’t.”

  He gazed at her. A level, appraising glance that made her knees go wobbly and her face get hot. “No,” she said quickly. “If that’s what you have in mind, forget it. I would never trade sex for—”

  “Shhh. Not at all. I never said that. You came up with it yourself, because you’re all wound up. I would never think that of you.”

  “Sam, I . . . I’m just afraid that it will go bad. Really bad.”

  “Don’t sweat it. Just do your thing,” he urged. “Save the world, and I’ll watch your back. Don’t worry about my poor tender feelings or my unrealistic expectations. Those are my problems. I’ll deal with them.”

  She took a nervous step backward as he advanced on her. “And why this great act of self-sacrifice?”

  “Who said anything about sacrifice?” Another step flattened her against the window. The glass was cold through the loose weave of her sweater. “Of course, I’ll come
on to you. I’ll be all over you, every chance I get. But it won’t be payment for services rendered. Don’t slap a crass label on it, Sveti. Just let it be whatever it is. Let it breathe. Let it exist.”

  She laughed, shakily. “Oh, you smooth, sneaky bastard.”

  “That’s me.” He put his hands on either side of her head, against the glass. “Granted, I stand ready. Give me the nod, and I’ll be all over you. My tongue in your mouth, or sucking on your tits, or trailing down your spine, or between your pussy lips, lapping up your lube. I’ll fuck you into sweaty exhaustion every night and every morning. But when we go to breakfast, I’ll morph from abject sex slave into the perfect bodyguard. Not a hair out of place. Completely focused. We’ll all get what we need. It could work, Sveti. Really.”

  Sveti’s mouth shook, from proximity to his sensual lips, but he didn’t kiss her. He just danced around it, teasing her. Leaning to inhale the scent of her hair, to nuzzle the nape of her neck.

  “After a long day of saving the world, I’ll bathe you, shampoo you, rub you down with scented body oil,” he rasped into her ear. “Mmm.”

  “Don’t make fun of me,” she whispered.

  “I’m dead serious. I’ll blow-dry your hair and steam your suits. I’ll pick out your lingerie. I’ll carry your bags, and keep your cell phone charged, and screen your calls, and solve your computer problems. And go down on you. For hours. You’ll lie there legs spread, writhing with pleasure while I lick your pussy. My payoff is your sweet elixir. Yum.”

  She shook her head. “A guy like you will get bored out of his mind really fast, playing lady’s maid and charging up my cell phone.”

  “You know what, Sveti? I am totally willing to cross that bridge when I come to it. When I’m with you, the very last thing I have to fear is boredom.” He suckled her earlobe. “I’m not asking for love or gratitude or promises. All I want is to keep you safe. And make you come. Let me give you a sample taste right now. See how you like it.”

  “You don’t have to, ah . . . I already know—”

  “Sample it again. You might have forgotten. It’s been well over an hour.” He kissed her hungrily. His lips were so hot. Soft and hungry, demanding and insisting. He slid his hand down to the small of her back, pressing her mound against the hard bulge in his crotch.