by Cara Marsi
He saw Lexie’s face in his mind, her large hazel eyes and thick mane of golden brown hair. She was too guileless to pull off a scheme like that. She’d have to be hard-bitten, tough. That wasn’t the Lexie he knew. The Lexie he was falling in love with.
Love? What the hell had he gotten into? He’d cared for other women. But no woman ever made him feel the joy he knew whenever he was with Lexie, or the ache he felt every time he had to leave her.
She could be the enemy.
Anger tightened his chest, stifling his breath. No, he couldn’t have made love to her, couldn’t be falling for her if she were the enemy.
He’d search for the diamond. If he didn’t find it, then Interpol had been thrown off track, intentionally or not. Either way, Lexie hadn’t anything to do with it.
Then why was Dellose after her? The nagging question wouldn’t leave.
He slowly opened the bathroom door and peeked into the bedroom. Lexie lay on her side, her mass of hair spread over the pillow. He slipped out of the bathroom and stood by the bed, watching her. His body stirred in response. She’d been a willing partner during their lovemaking, passionate, tender, wanting to please him. Yet she had an innocence that enhanced her sexuality, that made him love her.
He had no time for such treacherous thoughts. He had a job to do. One he’d already compromised.
Lexie’s handbag perched on the large dresser. He hurried to it. With glances in the dresser mirror to be sure she didn’t waken, he quickly searched her purse. No gem. Then he searched through the dresser. Nothing.
He went to the night table and pulled open the drawer. A few pieces of costume jewelry were scattered inside. It took only seconds to determine the diamond wasn’t among them.
The closet door was ajar and he made his way there. He quickly felt through her clothes pockets and searched the insides of her shoes. No diamond.
He straightened when he heard movement from the bed.
“Dominic, what are you doing?”
Turning at the sound of Lexie’s sleep-filled voice, he smiled. “Looking for my clothes. I thought you might have hung them up. I had a call from work. I need to go.”
Frowning, she sat up. The sheets slipped off her, exposing her full, lush breasts. The nipples, reddened from their lovemaking, puckered under his scrutiny. He hardened. Her gaze went to his penis and she smiled.
“Why don’t you come back to bed?” she asked, her voice sultry.
He wanted to. God, how he wanted to. But the part of him that could still think clearly urged caution. He’d trusted her enough to make love to her. He wanted to trust her, but since Sal’s call, doubt had begun to take root. He needed something concrete, something to prove she was innocent, that he hadn’t fucked up again. To know she wasn’t his adversary.
He walked to the bed and sat down. Reaching out, he tucked strands of silky hair behind her ear. “You’re beautiful,” he whispered. He bent close and kissed her. She wound her arms around his neck, opening her mouth to him, telling him with her body how much she wanted him.
Until he was sure about her, he had to be careful. He pulled away. “I really have to go. Another work emergency. I’ll call you later.”
“Another emergency?” she asked with a frown.
“We’ve hired new people and they screw up.” His stomach clenched at the lie.
“Oh. Your clothes are on that chair, same place they were before.” Narrowing her eyes in puzzlement, she gestured to the chair by the window where his clothes were neatly draped.
He slipped on his underwear and jeans without looking at her. “Is there anything of value in your purse?” he asked as nonchalantly as he could. “Anything a thief might want?” Maybe she’d shed light on what she did with the diamond, if she indeed had it.
“No. I put all my valuable stuff in my hotel safe deposit box.”
Her safe deposit box. He wanted to smack himself in the head for not thinking of that. His feelings for Lexie had knocked him off his game. If she had the diamond, that’s where it would be.
He turned and studied her. She stared back with her big, innocent hazel eyes. If the gem was in her safe deposit box, she had put it there.
Lexie was involved.
She couldn’t be involved.
He had no proof either way.
With the strength of a steel vise, uncertainty squeezed his heart. He turned away and donned the rest of his clothes.
“You have to go right now?” she asked.
“I’m sorry, Lexie, but I do.” The bewilderment in her eyes clutched his gut as he walked out of the room, leaving her without another word.
The click of the door locking behind him echoed the blackness of his mood, closing Lexie from his life. He strode down the hall. “Damn it all to hell.”
Had she played him?
****
Lexie stared at the door, her insides a riot of confusion. What just happened? They’d made love twice, the most soul-shattering lovemaking of her life. Dominic had been a considerate, passionate lover. A creative lover. The second time this morning, when he’d taken her, he’d done things to her, made her do things that still left her quaking. Her body flushed with heat now, remembering. She wanted more. She wanted Dominic.
She was falling in love with him.
“Damn, damn, damn it all!” She grabbed a pillow and threw it across the room.
She was in love with Dominic.
And he’d just walked away.
Leaving all of her questions unanswered.
How many times did she need to be made a fool of before she learned?
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
Lexie was leaving tomorrow. Dominic stared out his apartment window. On the street below, cars and motor scooters fought for space and pedestrians jostled each other on the sidewalks. In the distance stood the Coliseum, lonely and proud. Crumbling. Like his life. He wanted to fight, itched to punch someone. The person he really wanted to punish was himself. Fool. Idiot.
He felt like hell, knew he looked worse. He’d had only a few hours sleep each night since he’d walked out on Lexie the morning they’d made love.
He missed her more than he would have thought possible. He’d screwed up. He’d compromised his mission, compromised his integrity. He’d allowed himself to fall in love with a woman who should have been no more than a case to him, a woman who might be guilty of working with thieves and terrorists.
Raking fingers through his hair, he paced his living room. Dirty dishes and empty wine bottles littered the tables. He’d taken a few days off work. Sal was pissed, but Dominic didn’t care. Interpol had passed what information they had to the Italian authorities, who had taken over the case. Italian law enforcement was putting together the paperwork needed for a search warrant for Lexie’s safe deposit box, but meanwhile they were watching her, hoping she’d lead them to the terrorists.
Dominic let out a bitter laugh. Everyone around him thought her guilty. He wasn’t sure what to think.
He sank onto his sofa and leaned his head back, closing his eyes. Lexie. He saw her face in his mind. He’d run from her the other day, but what was he really running from? He’d never completely gotten over his guilt for what happened in St. Petersburg.
Had he run from Lexie, still reeling from his failure in the Russian case, or was he more afraid of the love he felt for her? He led a hard life, a lonely life, a life spent traversing the globe, going wherever Interpol needed him. There was no room for a woman, for love.
The Lexie he’d come to know and love couldn’t be involved in the diamond heist and the plan to pass the gem onto terrorists.
For the first time in days, he forced his mind to relax, to focus on his fears that had nothing to do with Galina and St. Petersburg. His fears that kept him from giving his heart to a woman. He’d spent his young adult years bearing responsibility for his sister, shielding her from hardship, not allowing himself the luxury of love, of doing what he wanted. He saw now that he’d used his responsibilities as a
crutch against loving a woman, fearful of being hurt, of losing control, of perhaps losing her as he had lost his parents—suddenly, without warning.
His sister was settled and happy. And he was becoming a bitter, lonely man.
His phone rang. He looked at the ID register and cursed, then flipped open the phone. “What the hell do you want?”
“You greet everybody like that?”
“I’m on my way out, Sal,” he lied. “What do you want?”
“You were right about the Cortese woman all along.”
“What?” Dominic froze.
“One of our paid informants came through for us. He has contacts in Dellose’s gang. Seems we’ve been chasing the wrong woman all this time.”
“What the hell do you think I’ve been trying to tell you?”
“Stuff it. Our informant is credible. He helped us crack the Scolozzi case last year. He told us the drop will go down tomorrow in Florence. The Italian authorities have all the information and will send their own woman as decoy. We still don’t know where the diamond is, but we’ll find it. The important thing now is that we’ll nab those terrorist motherfuckers. You get your ass into work. I’m assigning you to a new case.”
Dominic’s angry retort died in his throat as warnings snapped through his head. “Sal, something’s wrong. This guy just happens to show up and gives you all the information you need? After weeks of hard work by us and the Florence police? I don’t buy it. It could be a ruse by Dellose. Get us off Lexie and he’ll go in for the kill. For God’s sake, keep the tails on her. She could be in danger.”
“You’re losing it, Brioni. Get into work.”
“No. I need to find Lexie before Dellose gets to her.”
“There is no more Cortese case, Brioni. The woman checked out of her hotel and is heading to the airport now. It’s over.”
“Lexie checked out? She isn’t supposed to leave until tomorrow.”
Sal snorted. “Apparently she decided to head home early. Forget it. I’m giving you one more chance. Get your sorry ass in here, or you’re fired.”
“Go to hell.” Dominic hung up.
His heart beat a fierce staccato. Lexie was in trouble. Big trouble. He didn’t believe the informant’s story. His instincts told him Dellose or one of his thugs would go after the diamond, and Lexie, now that surveillance was pulled off.
Punching in her number, he raced out to his car. When he reached her voicemail, he left a message that he was on the way to the airport and for her to call him right away. He got into his car, started the engine and pulled out, narrowly missing a passing car. Ignoring the other driver’s piercing horn, he sped down the street and turned sharply onto the highway leading to the airport. He hadn’t much time.
Fear coursing through him, he negotiated his way through Rome’s usual snarl of traffic, cutting off cars and scooters in his haste. Up ahead, he saw flashing lights. Traffic had come to a standstill. A fucking accident. He pounded the steering wheel. “Damn, damn, damn!” If he could get to the police car, he’d flash his Interpol badge and ask for an escort to the airport. He tried calling Lexie again, but got voicemail. This time he left a more urgent message explaining she could be in danger. He didn’t want to frighten her, but he had to warn her.
A half hour later, when the crawl of traffic finally cleared, the police car had vanished. No police escort. Dominic pressed his foot to the gas. Lexie needed him.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
Lexie refused to cry. She sat in the gate area of Rome’s Leonardo DaVinci airport waiting for her flight to Boston, then a connecting flight to Las Vegas. Home.
She’d been lucky to get an earlier flight. It had cost her dearly in extra fees to change her booking, but she wanted to go home, to put distance between herself and the hurt Dominic had inflicted when he’d walked out two days ago. But deep down she knew she couldn’t escape the pain no matter how many miles were between her and Dominic Brioni.
Until she got to the airport, she’d held out hope he would call. Refusing to sit around and wait for him, she’d booked an earlier flight. She’d learned her lesson. She was in control. If Dominic wanted her, if he loved her as she loved him, he’d find her. He had to come to her. She’d be damned if any man would play her for a fool again.
Too keyed up to read, her book lay unopened on her lap. She wished she could have gotten a direct flight to Vegas. She’d called her parents when she’d rebooked and they’d changed their schedules to meet her at McCarran a day early. Hopefully, her flights wouldn’t be delayed. Her Roman holiday was over.
She’d better call her parents now and touch base before she got on the plane. They’d want to know she was on her way. She pulled her phone from her purse and flipped it open, then let out a groan. Several people sitting nearby looked over.
The battery was dead. She’d left the phone on all night. She hadn’t wanted to admit it to herself, but lovesick fool that she was, she’d left it on with hopes Dominic would call. This morning, she’d been so busy packing that she’d forgotten to charge the phone. She wanted to throw the damn global phone across the terminal. Fat lot of good it was to her now.
The prickly feeling she’d come to dread washed over her again. She shivered and twisted in her chair to look out over the busy terminal. A short, stubby man, his cap low over his face, studied the goods in a duty free shop across the way. His profile was turned to her. His nose looked odd and swollen. She was sure Dominic had broken her would-be attacker’s nose the other night.
Dread ratcheted to panic. The man who’d wanted to kill her had a broken nose. The man standing across the terminal had a broken nose. He was following her. Blood pounded her head and she pressed fingers to her temples. The people around her, the noises, the announcements over the PA system, all meshed together. She couldn’t move, couldn’t think. She closed her eyes and breathed deeply. When she looked at the duty-free shop again, the man was gone.
****
Dellose turned quickly away when he saw the Cortese bitch twist in her seat. Head down, he strode through the terminal, pushing aside anyone who slowed him. How the hell had she known he was there? Fuck it that he hadn’t gotten a ticket on her flight. He was lucky he’d gotten to the airport. She’d fucked up his plans completely by leaving early.
He’d finally managed to convince the hotel clerk to cooperate more fully. The guy had a demanding mistress and a suspicious wife. A few intimidating pictures shoved in the guy’s mailbox, and the man tripped all over himself passing information about the Cortese woman.
The first-class last minute ticket Dellose had bought for New York City, then Las Vegas, had cost a small fortune. But it was worth it. He’d get to Vegas less than two hours after the bitch. She was as good as dead.
He’d had one of his most trusted men covering the woman. Too bad his man hadn’t found out earlier about Interpol tailing her. That explained the muscular guy who was always with her. If Dellose had known, he would have handled things differently, would have eliminated the bastard. At least his man had managed to convince Interpol the hand-off would happen tomorrow in Florence. Stupid Interpol drones.
Dellose slipped into a chair at his gate, glaring at the people sitting nearby. Several of them moved to other seats, giving him space.
He’d managed to convince his terrorist contacts to change the time and place of the drop-off. It would go down in two days in Rome. Things were falling into place nicely. He’d get to Vegas, find the diamond, kill the Cortese woman, and be back to Rome in time. Nothing else would go wrong now.
****
Dominic parked his car and ran through the airport. He stopped and checked the flight screens. Lexie had told him she had a stopover in Boston. But that was for the flight scheduled for tomorrow. A plane bound for Boston had just taken off. His heart pounded. Please let her be on a later flight, he prayed as he searched for a security guard. When he couldn’t reach Lexie, he’d called the airport’s main number, wanting them to page her. They told him t
hey couldn’t page anyone and hung up.
He found a guard and flashed his Interpol ID. The guy took him to someone who had access to the names of those flying today. The clerk looked up Lexie’s name. Dominic’s fears were confirmed. She was on the Boston flight.
Damn it all to hell! Furious, he strode out of the airport office. On the way to the airport, he’d tried calling Lexie again, but got her voicemail. He didn’t leave a message this time. Was her battery dead, or was she avoiding him? He couldn’t worry about that now. Dellose wouldn’t give up. He’d follow her. Willing himself to stay calm, to think, Dominic pulled out his phone. Maybe the Las Vegas police would help.
Ninety minutes later Dominic stared out the window at the terminal gate, watching the crew load baggage onto the plane that would take him to Philadelphia, then Las Vegas. If he hadn’t had to go back to his place for his passport, he could have made the earlier flight leaving for New York. Luck wasn’t with him today.
He’d been pulled aside as he went through security. He knew how it looked—he had no luggage and he’d bought a one-way ticket minutes before. When he’d showed his Interpol badge, he’d been waved on. As of this morning, he no longer worked for Interpol, but airport security hadn’t checked.
Too bad the local authorities in Vegas weren’t as trusting. It had been an easy matter to find Lexie’s address. He’d called the Las Vegas police, and using his Interpol credentials, explained she was in grave danger and asked them to protect her. Unfortunately, they’d checked with Rome’s Interpol headquarters and learned he’d been fired. The Vegas police had called him back and told him not to bother them again. He was now Lexie’s only hope.
