by Lucy Gordon;Sarah Morgan;Robyn Donald;Lucy Monroe;Lee Wilkinson;Kate Walker
He did not like hearing her compare their relationship to the one he had had with Sofia. “It is not the same.”
“Right. You trusted her more than you trusted me.”
“My lack of trust in you was because of her.” Frustration made his voice biting when what he wanted to do was soothe the look of hurt from those beautiful green eyes.
“And there was the fact my father told you I was like Shawna.”
“Sì.” Something he never should have told her.
Elisa’s head and heart were reeling. A year ago she had paid the price for another woman’s sin and Salvatore’s lacerated male pride.
It made sense of so much she had not understood. Inconsistencies that had haunted her and made her wonder what she had done wrong to make him distrust her so much.
She’d had two strikes against her and hadn’t even known it. Her own father had talked her down to Salvatore. That was not a truth she was ready to deal with on top of everything else and yet she had no option but to do so. Papa thought she was like Shawna despite the fact that she’d never done anything to make him think it.
Had she?
Second-guessing a past she knew was blameless, even if others did not, was a useless exercise she refused to get into.
Then there was the fact she had got pregnant too fast for Salvatore to believe the baby was his…because of what he had gone through with Sofia.
She flicked him a glance that encompassed his whole person, but denied eye contact. She could not handle that right now.
“Thank you for telling me.” Having had all she could take of emotional drama for the time being, she was ready to focus on the more prosaic. “We’re going to be in here all night; we might as well get settled.”
Turning away from his silent, watchful figure, she walked back to the corner with the lavatory and the emergency stash of food stored in the small cabinet on the other side of the bathroom’s back wall.
Like many jewelers, Signor di Adamo had equipped the vault in case there ever was a robbery and he or another employee was forced to take refuge in it. The timed locking mechanism meant that huge metal door would not open before nine the following morning. Her boss did not have an override code and the vault was so old she doubted the security company that had installed it still had the code on record. Even if they had, it would take a burning building for them to agree to use it.
It was a security precaution meant to protect the owner from being forced from his bed by would-be thieves and intimidated into opening the vault. Only this time it was useless. Because of her argument with Salvatore, she hadn’t gotten the stock moved into the vault.
“Poor Signor di Adamo. Those men probably stole all the jewelry before leaving the store. He is insured, but this might be enough to make him give the store up.” And that would be sad after all she and the old man had sacrificed to keep the business going.
“They were after the crown jewels, not the modest collection in the storefront. Once they realized the jewels were locked safely in the vault, I doubt they took the time to clear the cases before running.”
“At least the crown jewels are safe. We can still have the auction. There is a chance Signor di Adamo can save the store.”
They had not been taken out of their storage drawer in the vault since their arrival.
“For now.”
She looked up from rummaging in the cupboard for foodstuffs that might make an adequate dinner for the two of them. “Why do you say that? Surely they won’t risk coming back now that the police will know to be looking for them?”
He reached out and brushed her cheek, a small smile playing at the corner of his mouth. “You are innocent in many ways.”
She jerked back from the touch. It was an involuntary movement, but it made him frown. Tough.
“Just not the ones that count.” The words tumbled out before she thought and she regretted them. Not because she didn’t think he deserved the dig, but because she did not want to re-open that conversation. “Forget I said that.”
“It is forgotten.” The grim set of his mouth said differently, but she wasn’t about to take issue with him over it.
“Elisa, piccola. Are you in there?”
The sound of Signor di Adamo’s voice echoing in the small enclosure shocked her, and for a minute she could not quite figure out what was going on.
Not so Salvatore. He was on the other side of the vault in a flash and speaking into the small black box recessed in the thick metal wall near the door. “This is Salvatore. Elisa is with me.”
“Are either of you hurt?” Signor di Adamo’s voice sounded strained, older than his sixty-two years.
“No. Can you open the vault?”
“The security company that installed it went out of business two years ago.”
That was news to her. Had she known, she would have tried to get her boss to do something about transferring the override information to another company.
Salvatore swore. “This means you have no way of overriding the timed lock, no?”
“This is the truth. Praise the good God that you are both all right.”
Salvatore said something succinct, but did not press the communication button, so Signor di Adamo did not hear.
They discussed the details of the break-in and how she and Salvatore had ended up locked in the vault. Her boss’s exclamations were replaced by the cool authority voiced by the local police. They took Salvatore’s statement via the intercom box while Elisa chewed on her lower lip in worry.
“Ask them about the inventory,” Elisa told Salvatore.
Salvatore pressed the button. “Elisa wishes to speak to Signor di Adamo.”
He moved out of the way, allowing her to ask for herself.
She pressed the button and spoke into the small box, all the while hoping Salvatore had been right. “Signor di Adamo, I did not have the opportunity to put the trays in the vault before the break-in.”
“I noticed this.” His voice was quizzical, but not unduly worried.
“So, they, um…didn’t take anything?” She’d been derelict in her duty to her boss and would be devastated to discover her neglect had resulted in his loss.
“No, piccola. They must have been after the crown jewels.”
“That’s what Salvatore thought.”
She looked at the opposite wall without seeing it, lost in thought. “You’ll have to take the rest of the jewelry home with you. I don’t think that’s safe.” She turned to Salvatore. He was the security expert and had insisted on forcing himself into her life. He could make himself useful now. “What shall we do?”
“Let me speak.”
She stepped back, satisfied as the two men made arrangements for one of Salvatore’s operatives to come and take possession of the jewelry.
She spoke briefly again with her boss before he left the store, promising to be back when the vault’s timed lock opened in the morning.
Returning to the storage cupboard, she perused the contents with more interest than the first time around. Now that she knew the inventory was safe and Signor di Adamo was not worried about her and Salvatore, she could consider dinner with more equanimity. Besides, she was hungry.
A round of cheese hung from a hook on the ceiling of the cupboard and she pulled it down. She also withdrew two bottles of mineral water with twist tops, a tin of tuna, crackers, and some small jars: olives, sundried tomatoes under oil and carrots under vinegar.
Stacking them together on the floor, she arranged the contents of the cupboard, so she could pull one of the shelves out to use as a table. Thankfully, Signor di Adamo had also included paper plates, utensils and napkins in his emergency store and she and Salvatore would not be reduced to serving with their fingers.
She arranged the crackers, tuna and cheese on two plates and put the small jars between them so both she and Salvatore could reach what they wanted. He hadn’t said anything as she prepared the food, but he popped the tops off both bottles of mineral water a
nd opened the other jars with quick precision.
He sat down on one side of the makeshift table while she gingerly settled on the floor on the other. “This is a far cry from what I intended our dinner to be tonight, cara.”
Remembering his dinner reservation, she couldn’t decide if reliving memories would have been worse or better than their enforced intimacy. “We haven’t got much choice.”
Salvatore shrugged, making the exposed muscles of his chest ripple in a very distracting way. OK, so it was warm, but buttoning up his shirt would not kill him.
“What do you know about my father’s heart condition?” she asked as she sliced a thin sliver of cheese and put it on a cracker with one of the olives cut in half.
Salvatore sighed, as if his mind had been elsewhere. “It is not serious if he follows the doctor’s recommendations and avoids stress.”
Like that caused by worrying about his daughter’s safety. She got the message without Salvatore having to spell it out.
“What happened?”
“He had a small episode a couple of months ago and ended up taking an emergency visit to the hospital. The doctor said that while the episode itself was not that serious, it was a harbinger of things to come if he did not change his lifestyle.”
“And did he?”
Again the shrug and she wanted to just yell at him to button up his darn shirt. “Francesco has been working less, increasing his exercise, eating healthier.”
“I’m sure Therese is making sure of that.” Her stepmother loved her father very much.
“Sì.”
“I still don’t understand why he didn’t tell me.”
“I do not know.”
If she hadn’t been running from Salvatore for the past year, she would have visited Sicily at least once and no doubt found out about her father’s health then. Guilt weighed on her as she finished her small dinner. Cleaning up was easy and thankfully, with the help of the running water in the small bathroom’s sink, they were able to avoid a lingering odor of tuna in the enclosed space.
Afterward, they settled back on the floor, but its ungiving hardness quickly grew uncomfortable. She shifted her sitting position, drawing her knees up to her chin, having long since abandoned her shoes.
“It is going to be very uncomfortable sleeping.”
Her head came up at the sound of Salvatore’s voice and her conscience pricked her.
She should tell him about the blow-up air mattress in the cupboard. The thing was, it was a single and they would have to share. It was the only option that made sense, but her mind rebelled at the prospect of sleeping in such close proximity to him. Even the thought of slumber on the hard floor had more appeal. It would definitely be better for her sanity.
Besides, there was no saying if it would still hold air after all the time it had sat unused on that shelf, she tried telling herself. In the end, her conscience would not let her keep it to herself however.
Grimacing, she stood up. “There’s an air mattress.”
His brow rose in question.
“You know, a blow-up thing we can use to sit on now.”
“And sleep on later.”
He caught on quick, but then he was a smart guy—about everything but her. “Yes.”
“We will have to sleep together.”
There was nothing for it. She forced herself to nod. “Yes.”
She almost offered to sleep on the floor at the look of satisfaction that crossed his features. “Don’t get any ideas, Salvatore. If you try anything, I’ll push you right off the mattress, got it?”
Chapter Six
IT WAS a ludicrous threat considering how much bigger he was than her, not to mention more dangerous, but he didn’t laugh.
He did smile though. “You have made yourself clear.”
She pulled out the mattress. There was no pump, so they took turns blowing into it to inflate it. Salvatore smiled the first time he took it from her, putting his lips where hers had been with deliberate movements, and she could almost feel his lips against hers. It was worse when she took it back from him because the intimacy of using the air spigot after Salvatore made her insides clench. She hid her reaction, but she felt as if he knew anyway.
Once they had it blown up, he pulled the blanket out and spread it over the mattress before they sat down on it.
It didn’t give and there was no telltale hiss of escaping air. “I think it’s going to hold.” She wasn’t sure if she was glad or disappointed by that fact. “I wish we had a pack of cards, or something.”
“Are you bored with my company already, dolcezza?”
“No, of course not. It’s just that…” She let her voice trail off.
He wasn’t that dense. He knew what the problem was.
“I can think of something that would pass the time.”
She stiffened and glared at him. “No way.”
“What could be wrong with a game of Animal, Vegetable or Mineral?”
He’d been having her on, but she still couldn’t see him playing such a simple game and said so.
“You forget the years I spent schooling in a very spartan environment.”
And she acknowledged there were depths to this alpha male she knew nothing about.
So they played, but she was tired, having slept little the night before.
After her third yawn, he said, “I think you should sleep, cara.”
She didn’t want to lie down, but it would have to happen some time. “Are you going to sleep?”
“It is that, pace, or sit on the hard floor. None of those appeal. I will sleep. I did not rest much last night.”
“I’m sorry.” Her nightmare had wakened him.
“Do not be. I have not slept well for the past year.”
He took Sicilian guilt to Olympic levels, which did nothing for her own peace of mind. Sighing with a sense of inevitability, she went into the small bathroom and got ready for bed.
She came out and once again he was waiting. This time he was standing in just his trousers, his shirt dangling from one finger. “Put this on to sleep in. It will be more comfortable than your dress.”
No doubt he was right, but still she balked. “I’ll be fine.”
“Do not be stubborn.”
“My dress isn’t that bad.” It was longer and tighter than any of her nightgowns, but she could deal with it.
“You hate sleeping with anything wrapped around your legs.”
The reminder of their former intimacy did nothing to improve her mood. “I’ll survive this time.”
He put the shirt around her shoulders. “There is no need.” He stepped around her and entered the bathroom. “Elisa…”
“Yes?”
“I can think of nothing I would enjoy more than helping you change, cara.”
“Has anyone ever told you that you’re too bossy?”
His answer was the quiet sliding shut of the bi-fold door. She didn’t know if he would follow through on his threat to help her change, but on the likely chance he would, she made quick work of slipping out of her dress and bra and putting his shirt on. She buttoned the buttons all the way up, but the collar was big enough that it still showed the dips and hollows of her collarbone.
Afterward, she went to the mattress to lie down. He had laid his coat down on one side and she knew it was there for a buffer between her skin and the velour-covered plastic of the mattress. She considered sleeping on the opposite side out of defiance, but decided against it. He’d put her beside the wall so she wouldn’t fall off the mattress either and somehow his concern touched instead of irritated her.
She snuggled down onto his coat, pretending to herself that the scent of him was not having an impact on her emotions or physical comfort. Waiting for him to come out of the bathroom, she pulled the light blanket over herself, more to cover her bare legs than because she was cold.
He came out a few minutes later. “Do you want me to leave the light on?”
It was a small enclo
sure. They both knew it well enough to find the bathroom if they needed it and they would sleep better in the dark. “No.”
He pressed a button and the dull glow of the emergency light went out.
She waited for him to join her on the bed, tense with an emotion between dread and anticipation. When he did, he put his arm around her waist and the other under her head like a pillow, cuddling up to her back as if they were still lovers.
She stiffened with rejection and tried to push out of his arms. “Salvatore!”
He tightened his hold. “Be reasonable, cara, the mattress is small. It is the only comfortable position for sleeping.”
“But—”
“I promised I would not accost you. Can you not trust me this much?”
Why the question should stir her emotions, she did not know. She started to say something again.
“Shh…” Soft lips kissed her temple. “Sleep. That is all.” Then, nothing.
He made no attempt to take advantage of their position and eventually she relaxed, feeling more secure than she had in months. Incredibly, she slept.
When she woke, the darkness was absolute.
Slowly, memory of where she was penetrated her mind, but something was missing.
The warmth of Salvatore’s body surrounding hers. The blanket was tucked around her, as if pressed carefully there by someone else. But no Salvatore.
She listened, but could hear no sound from the lavatory. Besides, in the absolute darkness, light would filter through the cracks of the bi-fold door if he was in there. She could hear his breathing, but not where it was coming from.
She sat up, groggy from sleep, the blanket falling to her waist. “Salvatore?”
“Sì, cara?”
Her voice had been husky from slumber, but his was crisp, as if he’d been awake a while.
“Why aren’t you sleeping?”
His laugh was harsh. “You have reason to doubt it, but I have some honor.”
“Did I say I doubted it?”
“It is not necessary. I know what you think of me.”
She rubbed at her eyes, but of course that made no improvement on the impenetrable darkness. “Your honor isn’t letting you sleep?” Nothing was making sense to her still sleep-fuddled mind.
