It had been-for Aunt Annie. Blair had waited until her aunt was settled in, and then she'd announced that she was going to live in Los Angeles.
'But I'll come home weekends,' she'd promised.
It had been easy to find a job in LA, and only a little harder to locate a tiny apartment. And she'd made a couple of friends-no special ones, though. People didn't seem to settle in the city long enough for that. She dated a few men, although none of them were special, either. And then, without warning, the firm she worked for had gone under and Blair was out of work. And then fate stepped in, fate and a rather cryptic ad in the employment section of the Sunday paper.
'Companion/Secretary,' the ad read. 'Exciting opportunity.'
It had been too appealing to pass up. Blair had written for an interview-and she'd met Meryl.
'Are you really from Iowa?' Meryl had teased. 'I didn't know anybody lived way out in the middle of the map.' Of course, Meryl had teased her about everything. The way she dressed, the way she wore her hair. The way she used make-up.
'This is Los Angeles,' Meryl had laughed. 'Pretty girls are a dime a dozen. Why look pretty when you can look beautiful?' And when Blair had protested, Meryl had teased her all the more.
And there's no need to get all blushy and gushy, Miss Prim and Proper. Don't tell me the boys back home never told you you were pretty!'
Blair risked a quick look at Hunter again. Yes, she thought, some of them had told her that. But it was different, hearing it from someone like him. It had never occurred to her before that just looking at someone-at a man-could be so pleasurable. And it wasn't just the way he looked. It was ... it was everything about him. The way he moved, the way he sounded, the way he commanded a room just by his presence.
Did other women feel that way about him? Yes, she thought, of course they did. There were probably lots of women in his life, women far more experienced and interesting than she. Suddenly, she hated them all, hated those unknown women who had known what it felt like to be held in those strong arms, kissed by those warm lips, touched by those hard hands ...
Hunter's hand closed over hers. 'Are you awake?' She nodded, and his fingers tightened their grip. 'Then look out your window.'
Blair turned her head and drew in her breath. 'Florence?' she asked, looking into the valley below. 'Oh, Rhys, it's beautiful!'
The city was a jumble of red tile roofs clustered on a valley floor which stretched towards softly rolling green hills beyond. A shimmer of water lay in the far distance-the River Arno, Blair thought with a shiver of excitement.
Rhys smiled at her. 'Even the rain's on our side. The tourists will all be indoors in the museums, hiding from the weather.'
'I don't mind the rain,' she assured him. 'I want to see everything. Can we do that?'
He chuckled softly. 'Absolutely. We'll buy ourselves the biggest umbrella we can find, and I'll show you Florence. The piazzas and the bridges and a little church that has a fresco tucked away in a corner that has to be a Caravaggio and ...' He glanced at Blair and shook his head. 'You've really never been here before?'
She took a deep breath. 'I told you I haven't. Why, did it say something different than that in my file?'
Rhys grinned. 'I just can't believe you never saw Florence, that's all. Some people think it's as beautiful as Paris or Venice .. .'
Her heart hammered. 'Really? I never heard that before.'
He shrugged his shoulders. 'Actually, I've never been to Venice, so I wouldn't know.' Thank God for that, she thought. 'And as for Paris, well, everybody loves Paris.' 'Right,' she said casually. 'But...isn't Florence a much smaller city?'
She felt weak with relief when he rose to the bait and began to talk about the city, pointing out landmarks as they entered its rain-slicked streets, narrow and shadowed like part of some huge labyrinth. But he seemed to know exactly where he was going. Within minutes, they pulled up before a closed garage door.
'I'll just be a minute,' he said, slamming the car door behind him.
He vanished inside the building. When he reappeared, he was laughing and talking with a muscular, fair-haired man dressed in spotless overalls. The man inclined his head in Blair's direction and she smiled in return.
'Carlo's just going to take a look,' Hunter called, and she nodded.
Carlo knelt beside the car and peered beneath it, then straightened up and leaned on the fender, rocking the car gently from side to side, all the while tilting his head as if he were listening to his patient's heartbeat. Finally, he turned to Hunter and shook his head, a look of obvious sympathy on his face.
'Yes, you're right. There is a problem, Hunter. Bring it inside,' he said in clear but heavily accented English.
The garage door rose slowly, revealing a cluttered interior. Hunter drove the Lamborghini on to a ramp, sighing as he shut off the ignition.
'Well, I'm not really surprised ... Carlo thinks it's probably the ball joints, but he won't know until he gets her up on the lift.'
'You look upset,' Blair said softly. 'Are you afraid it's something more serious than that?'
Hunter laughed and shook his head. 'I'm not worried about the car, Blair. I asked Carlo if he knew a rental agency where I could get my hands on a Rover or something similar.'
'And?'
'And, unfortunately, he doesn't.''Why not?'
He ran his fingers through his hair. 'You can't get a vehicle that specialized without putting in an order ahead of time, and we can't afford to wait around. If something comes down, I'd rather we were at the farmhouse. There's a clear field of view in all directions-it's an easier defense when there's only one man.'
Blair looked at him and shook her head. 'What are you talking about, Rhys?'
He sighed as he got out of the car and slammed the door behind him. 'Blair,' he said softly as he opened her door, 'I don't want to upset you, but we can't afford to take risks. As far as I know, no one's after us. I'll telephone Rome later and make certain, but ... Blair, sweetheart, what is it?'
If only she could tell him, she thought. If only she had the courage to say, Rhys, it's all been a terrible mistake. Desmond sent you on a wild-goose chase ... But the deception wasn't only Oscar Desmond's. It was hers, too. And the guilt that had troubled her yesterday was changing somehow. What she felt now was more than guilt. It was ... it was ...
Rhys put his finger beneath her chin and lifted her face to his. 'Don't be frightened, Blair,' he said softly. 'I'll take care of you.' He smiled into her eyes. 'Now stop looking like that, or Carlo will think you're not happy with me and he won't keep his promise.'
She forced herself to return his smile. 'What promise?' 'He's going to make some phone calls and try and find something for us.' Rhys grinned. 'For you, actually, for la bella signorina-and believe me, if anyone can do it, he can. He knows every decent car within a hundred miles of here. And I trust him.'
Rhys was right. Carlo made three calls. The last was lengthy and, even though Blair couldn't understand a word of it, she suspected he was alternately cajoling, bullying, and finally promising the moon to whomever was at the other end. When he hung up the phone, he was smiling.
'Fantastico, Hunter. The cousin of a cousin of my wife has what you need.'
An hour later, they were bounding along the cobblestoned streets in a vehicle that looked like a Land Rover but sounded like a race car. Carlo had tinkered with the engine for a few minutes and then smiled modestly.
'I made some minor adjustments, Hunter,' he'd said, handing over the keys. 'I think you'll be pleased.'
By the time Rhys had gunned the purring engine and taken the Rover through its paces in the twisting, narrow streets, he was more than pleased.
'Terrific,' he said happily. 'This baby will eat up those mountain roads and come back for more. Now we can play at being tourists for a while. How does that sound?' Blair smiled. 'It sounds wonderful.'
Their first stop was at an elegant leather shop. It was the sort of place Meryl Desmond probably frequented, but
it brought Blair up short.
'We can't go in there,' she said, pulling back as Rhys started to open the door. 'We look like wrecks.'
'For shame, Meryl Blair Desmond,' he said softly, tugging her into the store after him. 'You should know better. Just act as if you expected to be treated like visiting royalty. Watch.'
She learned, to her absolute delight, that he was right.
The handsomely dressed clerk looked visibly distressed at the sight of these two rumpled, damp individuals, but Hunter persisted in being the very soul of courtesy and charm. He acted as if the shop and its personnel had been placed on the Via Tournabuoni for his consideration. By the time he took out his credit card to pay for his purchases, the clerk was all smiles and gushes.
'Rhys, this will cost you a fortune,' Blair whispered as he helped her into a buttery-soft leather jacket.
'It's wet and cold out there, Blair. You need something to wear if we're going to walk along the Arno, see the Piazza della Signoria, stand in line to see Michelangelo's David and still stay dry enough to have lunch at the best restaurant in Tuscany.' He smiled as he buttoned the jacket from top to bottom. 'Take a look in the mirror and see how you like it.'
But the touch of his fingers made her tremble, and when she sought her reflection, all she could see was Rhys, standing beside her.
'I ... it looks lovely,' she said finally. His eyes met hers.
'Yes,' he murmured, 'lovely.'
It rained steadily all day, the sky changing only from leaden grey to soggy charcoal as the hours waned. Rhys showed her his own Florence, and yet, through it all, Blair knew he was constantly on the alert. His arm felt like a protective shield wrapped around her. His eyes were never still, but always seemed to be looking past her into shadowed corners and up the narrow streets. He was cautious, even in the beautiful restaurant where they had lunch, politely requesting a table in a secluded corner, and then seating himself so that he had a clear view of the entrance door.
The rain stopped suddenly in late afternoon while they were walking through the BoboliGardens, high above the heart of the city. Rhys looked up at the still threatening sky and then furled the umbrella he'd bought.
'Thank God,' he laughed. 'I was beginning to be afraid we'd turn into toadstools.'
'On a beautiful day like this? Don't be silly.'
He slipped his arm around her waist. 'Beautiful? Have you been at the Chianti again, Miss Desmond?'
She wanted to tell him that it had been the most perfect day she'd ever spent because she'd spent it with him but she only smiled. '
'I've been at something I can't pronounce,' she said. What was that wine you ordered in the restaurant?
Barolow something or other .. .'
Rhys grinned. 'A Barolo '64. A modest little offering don't you think?' ,
'A man who orders a wine that's older than I am and costata alla florentina and insalata whatever it was probably isn't a stranger to French cooking either, is he?:
Hunter's face was a study in innocence. 'Maybe not.' 'Which means he knows all about ratatouille .. .'
His lips twisted in a quick smile. 'He might.' 'Especially if he has an office in Paris ... You do, don't you, Hunter?'
'Well,' he said, shrugging his shoulders, 'now that you ask, ma'am .. .'
Blair laughed up at him. 'If you utter one "golly" or "by gosh", I swear, I'll hit you, Rhys Hunter.'
Rhys drew her closer to him. 'I'm glad you had a good time today, Blair.' He smiled. 'You know, for a girl who has everything, you're amazingly easy to please.'
Her smile wavered. 'I keep telling you that you don't know the real me.'
'I guess I don't,' he teased. 'Anyone would have thought I'd bought you diamonds on the Ponte Vechhio this afternoon instead of gelati.'
She laughed softly. 'Well, I like ice-cream. It was my favourite dessert when I was a child.'
'I'll bet you were a cute little girl,' he said, taking her hand in his. 'What did you look like? Did you wear your hair in pigtails? Did you have braces on your teeth?' 'Yes and yes,' she laughed. 'Although my mother always said .. .' Her voice drifted off into silence. Careful, Blair. Careful ...
'Go on,' Hunter prompted gently. 'What did she say?' 'She said the braces hadn't changed much of anything, that I still had an over bite ., .'
Rhys's arm went behind her and he drew her to him. 'Now that you mention it,' he said softly, 'I guess she was right. But I think it's sexy as hell. It makes you look as if you're waiting to be kissed.' He looked into her eyes and then at her mouth. 'Are you waiting, Blair?' he whispered. 'Do you want me to taste you again, to touch you .. .'
I want you to love me as I love you.
The unexpected words rang so clearly inside her that for a second Blair was certain she'd said them aloud. But she hadn't; Rhys was still looking at her through narrow, half-closed eyes, still waiting for her answer. Tears filled her eyes as the silken threads of her own deception began to close around her.
'Rhys,' she whispered, 'you ... you .don't understand ... I'm not ... I wasn't expecting .. .'
'Neither was I,' he said thickly, drawing her tightly against him. 'But why should we waste whatever time we have left? Before you know it, we'll be back in Rome. And then ...'
Suddenly, his body stiffened against hers with a tension that turned her blood to ice. His encircling arms became bands of steel; she heard him mutter a short, one syllable word under his breath.
'Rhys?' she murmured, looking into his eyes. But they were focused beyond her, on something in the distance. 'Quiet,' he said.
'Rhys, what's the matter?' His face looked as if it had been carved from stone. No, she thought, remembering the statue of David, not even that. Stone, in the hands of Michelangelo, had more warmth than Hunter's face at this moment. 'Rhys,' she whispered, 'please, you're frightening me.'
'There's a bench behind you, Blair, in that alcove.
When I let go of you, I want you to turn, walk to it, and sit down.'
'What is it? Is something .. .'
'Sit down and stay there, no matter what happens. Do you understand?'
'Yes,' she said, shivering in his embrace. 'But. . .' The protest died on her lips. She had never seen Rhys look this way before. His eyes were like grey stones, his nostrils flared. He took a step backwards and then another; she could see the coiled tension in his body, the knotted power waiting to be unleashed.
'Now!' His voice was like a whip, commanding her to do as he'd ordered.
Trembling, she turned towards the bench and sank down on it, but not before she'd seen the dark gleam of the gun in Rhys's hand.
CHAPTER TEN
BLAIR had never been more frightened in her life. Long after Rhys had vanished into the shadows, she could still remember the sight of his gun, metallic and deadly, as it lay in the palm of his hand. What had he seen? she wondered, wrapping her arms around herself as a rain laden wind blew suddenly through the cypresses. But she knew what he'd seen. He'd seen someone-someone his instincts told him was a threat. That was the only reason he'd have looked so grim sounded so ... so cold, so frightening ...
Where was he? The seconds ticked into minutes and still she sat alone, trying to see beyond the shadows. The sun would set soon and the shadows would lengthen until the gardens would be as black as a mine-shaft. Suppose he hadn't returned by then? What would she do?
She stood and took a few hesitant steps across the terrace. Hunter had disappeared into a stand of trees, but he could be anywhere by now. And anything could have happened to him. God only knew who had been lurking in the shadows. No one knew they were in the Tuscan Hills-no, she thought, that wasn't quite right. What no one knew was where Meryl Desmond was. Oh, it was so complicated. Why hadn't she told him the truth?
The rain had started again, this time with a wind driven force that seemed to be driving straight through the leather jacket Rhys had bought her, chilling her to the marrow. The jacket was just one more way he'd tried to protect her, another knot in the sk
ein of deceits that was wrapping around her. She'd let him go on believing half-truths as if this were all some harmless game-but what had happened at the airport wasn't a game. Suppose they'd been followed from Rome? Anything was possible. For all she knew, Hunter was locked in deadly struggle with a killer out there in the darkness. He could be hurt. He could be ...
No, please. .. Blair squeezed her eyes shut, but the image of Rhys, lying cold and still on the rain-soaked ground, remained vivid.
'Rhys,' she whispered. 'Rhys ...' 'Blair?'
A sob burst from her throat at the sound of his voice behind her. She called out his name again, then turned blindly and threw herself into his arms. He held her tightly against him, his chin against the top of her head. She nestled against his chest, breathing his scent, listening to the rapid thud of his heart. She could hear the air rasping in and out of his lungs.
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