by Cara Marsi
Dominic sprang up and flew at the mugger, knocking him to the ground. The two men grappled, rolling together on the cobbled street. Lexie, her heart thumping wildly, looked for an opening to bean the mugger again, to give Dominic a better chance at overcoming him.
“Stop it! Stop it! Leave him alone!” The mugger ended up on top, and she whaled away with her bag, getting in any shot she could.
Shouts and the slap of running feet vibrated through the alley. The mugger swore, jumped up, and raced away, a few men giving chase. Several others helped Dominic to stand, yelling in excited voices, and gesturing toward where their attacker had disappeared.
Dominic winced in pain. Lexie looked down at his ripped, blood-soaked pant leg. “Dominic, you’ve got to get to the hospital. You’re bleeding.”
“I’m okay,” he said. “It is nothing.” Brushing dirt off his jacket, he turned to the men who stood nearby and said something to them in rapid Italian. With nods, they strode away.
Breathing heavily, Lexie disagreed. “You’re not okay. We’ll get a cab and take you to the hospital.”
He cupped her shoulders. “I’ve been through worse. I’m fine. Are you okay? Did he hurt you?”
“No. I’m…” The full impact of what had happened hit her. The adrenaline that had given her strength suddenly dissipated and she began to tremble. “I’m not okay.”
“Lexie.” Dominic moved forward to take her into his arms. She held on for dear life, needing his strength. He rubbed his hand along her back. “It’s okay, Lexie. We’re both okay. It was just a mugger. You’re safe with me.”
She clung to him. It wasn’t her imagination. Strange things were happening. She had nothing anyone could want. She didn’t know who to trust. Dominic said she was safe with him. But was she really?
CHAPTER FIVE
“We need to call the police,” Lexie said when she and Dominic finally drew apart. She rubbed her arms, missing his warmth.
“I will call the police in the morning,” he said, taking her hand. “Let’s get you to your hotel.”
She started to argue, then noticed the tight set of his mouth. He was in more pain than he let on. “Okay, you can handle the police later.” She didn’t really want to deal with the Italian police again anyway. Holding hands, they walked back to the hotel, Dominic limping slightly at first. Gradually his gait improved until his limp was barely discernable. When they reached the hotel, Lexie pulled away and raised her gaze to his. His eyes were shrouded in the dim overhead light.
“Thank you for everything,” she said. “The dinner, and rescuing me again.” She smiled. “It’s becoming a habit, you rescuing me.”
“I would rescue you anytime,” he said softly.
“Let’s hope you don’t need to again,” she said. “It’s been a date to remember. I’ve never had one quite like it.”
He laughed and took her hand, bringing it up to his lips. He brushed a gentle kiss on her knuckles, sending little shivers along her arm. “Lexie, you are a woman to remember. You and your lethal handbag.”
When he released her hand, she looked quickly away so he couldn’t see her blush. She opened her purse and fished inside for her room key. When she found the key, he took it from her.
“I’ll see you to your room.”
“No, thanks. I’ll be fine, really.”
His eyes met hers and her body tingled as heat radiated through her. Would he kiss her? She hoped so. But not with all these people staring. She remembered his wound and looked down at his leg. Blood was caked on his pants, but at least the bleeding had stopped. “You need to take care of that cut. I could—”
He shook his head and reached for the hotel door. “Thank you, but I will be fine.” He took her hand in his again. “Come, I will see you to your room.”
The clerks gave them curious glances as they walked through the lobby. The youngest, a man who liked to flirt with her, smirked. They probably thought the American tourist was bringing in an Italian lover to celebrate being in Rome. No doubt it happened all the time. Her excitement mingled with anxiety. What if the clerks were right?
She and Dominic squeezed into the cage elevator with a middle-aged couple who kept smiling at them. God, even they thought she and Dominic were a couple. What kind of vibes were they sending out?
When they got to her room, Dominic unlocked the door and pushed it open. “Stay here,” he said, “while I make sure it’s secure.”
The niggling feeling that he was some kind of law enforcement officer settled over her again. She watched from the doorway as Dominic scoured the room, looking under the bed, wincing a little as he bent down, then searched her closet. Doing exactly what she’d expect of the police.
“It’s clear,” he said, turning to her.
“Thank you.”
“You’re welcome.”
She stepped into the room and closed the door behind her, leaning against it. They stared at each other. Her fears, her apprehensions, wafted away in the erotic heat that pulsed between them. There was no doubt in her mind he’d kiss her now. Would his lips feel as sensual as they looked?
Dominic walked toward her. Despite his injured leg, his movements were graceful, almost predatory. She was sure he could hear the wild thumping of her heart in the quiet room.
When he reached her, he brushed a strand of hair from her face. “You are very beautiful, Lexie Cortese.”
She inhaled his scent, spice with a dash of citrus, and the essence that was Dominic. Keyed up with longing, she swayed toward him.
He bent his head. His eyes, hot and mysterious, drew her into his heat. Fire raced along her nerve endings. She closed her eyes and lifted her chin. Then she heard his sharp intake of breath and no longer felt his warmth. She opened her eyes. He had moved away. Although only inches separated them, it felt like a chasm. A chasm filled with her confusion and embarrassment.
His features were shuttered and cool. Detached. “It’s late,” he said. “You’ve had a stressful night.” He took her by the shoulders and moved her gently away from the door. “If you hear anything suspicious, call the desk right away. Don’t try to be brave.”
Words stuck in her throat. She moved farther away and nodded.
“Good night, Lexie.” He put a hand out, as if to touch her again. She recoiled. With a sad smile, he opened the door and slipped out. The sound of the door locking behind him echoed in the quiet room, a mocking reminder of the humiliation that whipped through her.
“Damn, damn, damn!” She sagged against the wall, listening to Dominic’s muffled footsteps as he strode down the carpeted hall, moving farther and farther away. She put a hand to her flaming cheeks. She’d acted like a panting, love-struck teen. He’d had no intention of kissing her. How could she have read him so wrong? What was the matter with her?
****
What the devil was wrong with him? Too agitated to wait for the elevator, Dominic took the stairway despite the throbbing in his leg. Better to keep moving. Easier to outrun his self-disgust that way. He’d wanted to kiss Lexie. Hell, he’d wanted to do more than that. Hadn’t he learned his lesson? The one time he’d let down his guard, it had ended in death. He’d managed to avert the beginnings of a similar disaster tonight. So why didn’t he feel better? Why did he feel so cheated?
Hands in his pockets, he strode out of the hotel and into the brisk coolness of the bustling street, filled with pedestrians. He needed to work off his frustrations, needed to refocus on the mission.
He looked up at the moon, bright in the murky sky. The moon had looked like this the night he’d relaxed his vigilance over Galina, the night he’d given her his complete trust. The night she’d been slaughtered.
He’d believed her, and convinced his superiors at Interpol of her integrity, when she’d come to them for protection against her lover, a kingpin in the Russian mob. Mikhail had beaten her badly and she was ready to reveal all she knew of the mob’s criminal activities and killings. Dominic’s job was to keep her safe and gat
her evidence, relaying it to Interpol. Armed with her firsthand knowledge, Interpol would turn over the information to the Russian authorities who would arrest Mikhail and his henchmen.
Memories assaulted Dominic as he bent his head against the sudden wind that blew down the street, ruffling his hair. His thoughts filled with past failings, he barely noticed the other people pushing by him on the street. At first he’d thought Galina was as trusting as her wide blue eyes, as soft as her blond hair blowing in the cold winds that gusted off the Neva River in St. Petersburg. Her childlike helplessness had touched his heart, reminding him of his sister. Sal had had his doubts, but he’d listened to Dominic and finally believed that Galina was finished with Mikhail. Dominic’s desire to protect her as he’d protected his sister had softened him, and he’d relaxed, taking his eye off the mission.
Had she really been as calculating as he’d come to believe, or had her ties to her former lover, and her fear of him, been stronger than any of them had guessed? Dominic had been with her two months, at various Interpol safe houses, when she’d slipped out of their hotel room one afternoon while he was in the shower. He should have alerted one of the other agents to watch her, but by then he’d come to trust her.
She’d called Mikhail, telling him where she was. She’d also told him the addresses of Interpol’s safe houses in Russia and the names of Interpol’s Russian agents who’d guarded her in those houses. Luckily, only one agent had been injured when Mikhail’s men attacked the houses, and none were killed.
That same night, after a heavy meal in their room, Dominic had slept, his food drugged. Galina had left to meet Mikhail.
The next morning they’d found her battered body on the banks of the Neva.
****
“You look like hell,” Ruggiero said, his Sicilian accent thick as he approached Dominic’s desk the next morning. “The old man can see you now.”
“About time.” Dominic stood and slipped on his suit jacket, smoothing it over him. “I called him late last night and interrupted him in bed with his mistress.”
Ruggiero laughed. “No wonder he just chewed my ass for some little mistake on my expense report. You sure know how to piss him off.”
“Lucky me.” Dominic headed to Sal’s office.
While Sal studied papers on the desk in front of him, Dominic paced his boss’s small office in the nondescript, squat building that housed Interpol’s Rome headquarters. The sun had given up trying to shine through the murky windows of the airless office. The room was as gray as Dominic’s disposition.
Sal finally put down his papers and glared at his subordinate. “Sit. You’re making me nervous.” He gestured to the chair in front of his old metal desk. “We need to talk about the Cortese woman.”
Dominic walked to the windows and sat on the wide sill. Sal raised an eyebrow, but said nothing. Good thing because Dominic was primed for a fight. With anyone. He leveled his gaze at his boss. “That’s why I called you last night.”
“I was busy.”
“I know how busy you were.”
“Cut to the chase.” His boss waved a hand. “What did you want?”
“Something’s wrong with this whole case. Maybe the guy the police caught is planting false information. He refuses to say who’s behind the robbery, yet he gives up the plan to sell the diamond to the terrorists.”
Sal grunted. “He’s too stupid to play us. The police in Florence know how to pull the truth out of anyone. They’ll get more from him.”
“I know their methods,” Dominic said, preferring not to think of the ways the police pulled information. “I also know what I feel about Lexie. Something doesn’t add up.”
“Your instincts were wrong in the Russian case,” Sal said. “I believed you then. What makes you think I should trust your instincts now?”
“Hell, Sal, Lexie isn’t with the Russian mob.” Or was she aligned with something much worse? Could he be that wrong about her?
Sal stared at him over the top of his half-glasses. The look in his eyes said, “idiot” louder than any words.
Dominic stood and clenched his hands at his sides, fighting the urge to wrap those hands around Salvatore’s beefy neck and shake some sense into him. “Look at the facts. She gave her old purse to her maid. The maid was murdered; her hotel room was broken into the same night; last night someone runs me down with a scooter and tries to steal Lexie’s new purse. It can’t all be coincidence. It looks like someone is after her. If she’s involved with this gang of thieves and has terrorist ties, then who else could be after her? It doesn’t add up.”
“And I suppose she told you all this, about the break-in and the maid’s murder?”
Dominic nodded. He knew how it sounded, but…
Rolling his eyes, Sal picked up some papers from his desk and studied them before settling his narrow-eyed gaze on Dominic. “You want facts, Brioni? The facts are all here.” He tapped a finger to the paper he held. “We checked her out. Before the Cortese woman left Las Vegas, she deposited $50,000 cash in her bank account. We can’t trace the money.” He took his glasses off and cleaned them with a tissue, deliberately ignoring Dominic.
Dominic held himself rigid, refusing to play into Sal’s manipulative games.
Finally, Sal put his glasses back on and raised his gaze. “Untraceable money. She put untraceable money into her account. The mob and terrorists are very good at moving money around.” He picked up another sheet of paper and waved it. “Here’s something interesting. Her fiancé’s law firm has defended terrorists jailed in the U.S.”
“Fiancé?” Dominic straightened. Lexie had a fiancé? Why hadn’t she told him? Maybe she was playing him after all.
“For fuck’s sake, Brioni, did you hear anything I said?”
Dominic raked fingers through his hair. “I heard. She deposited a large amount of money we can’t trace. And she has a fiancé whose firm defended terrorists. Okay, it doesn’t look good, but there’s something we’re not getting.”
Sal laughed. “The only thing you’re not getting is the woman has terrorist ties. You stay with her, get her to trust you any way you can, find out her plans. We need her to lead us to those terrorists. They get their hands on that diamond, then buy their plutonium, it’s all over.”
“I know that,” Dominic snapped, his jaw tight. He’d been at this job too long. He’d done what he set out to do when he joined Interpol. He’d helped put some very bad people in prison, helped countless victims. Maybe it was time he moved on.
Sal’s attitude grated on him. Hell, everything grated on him these days. Maybe Ruggiero was right and he was getting too old for this life. And yet his instincts were telling him Lexie was exactly what she seemed—an innocent tourist. But he’d learned the hard way he couldn’t rely on his instincts. He had to be cautious.
He paced the room again, finally stopping in front of Sal’s desk. “Listen to what I’m saying. Something doesn’t figure. Why is someone trashing her room and trying to steal her purse? Why would the jewel thieves want to steal back the diamond? I still say we’re missing something.”
Sal shot up from his chair and slapped his palms on the desk. Papers fluttered in the breeze he’d created. “We’re not missing anything, damn it, except when and where the drop-off will take place.” Sal folded his arms across his barrel chest. “Maybe they know Interpol is onto them and they’re trying to throw us off the trail and get back the diamond.”
Dominic resisted the urge to laugh in Sal’s face. “If she’s working with whoever trashed her room, why wouldn’t they call her and warn her about us? They’d figure out a way for her to hand off the diamond to them. Then they’d find someone else to drop it off to the terrorists.”
“If we’re tailing her 24/7, how is she going to get the diamond back to them?” Sal smirked. “You look like hell. Go home and get some sleep, or get laid. But don’t sleep with the Cortese woman. You do that and your ass is ground meat.”
Anger tightening his gut, Dom
inic stalked out of Sal’s office. Sal could be right. There were too many things pointing to Lexie’s involvement in the diamond scheme. If she was part of the gang that had stolen the diamond, why would they want to steal it back? And wouldn’t she make it easy for them? Something was wrong. The answer was just out of reach.
CHAPTER SIX
Today is a new day.
Hefting her purse onto her shoulder, Lexie got into the elevator and punched the button for the main floor. So what if Dominic had backed away from kissing her last night? It meant nothing. She’d misread his intentions. He’d been injured. He’d probably been in more pain than he’d wanted to admit. And she’d been the victim of an attempted mugging. All good reasons to squelch a person’s sexual appetite.
Only hers hadn’t been squelched. Maybe like the book and the movie said, Dominic just wasn’t that into her.
The elevator lurched to a stop on the third floor and a young couple slid in. Wrapped in each other’s arms, they were oblivious to Lexie. Moving to the back of the elevator, she looked down at the floor, fighting melancholy. How would it feel to be so in love with someone that no one else existed except him? A door squeaked open in her brain, letting in the truth she’d been afraid to acknowledge. She’d never felt that way about Jerry. Never.
Maybe she should call Dominic to make sure he was okay. She started to pull out her phone, then stopped. He could be sleeping late, resting after the fight he’d had last night. Or he could be at the police station reporting the attempted mugging. She’d wait to call him.
Closing her purse, she headed to the door. Maybe she’d visit the Baths of Caracalla. That should keep her from worrying about Dominic or obsessing over his non-kiss.
