by Lowe, Anna
Cara’s chest squeezed. God, the irony. Now that she was finally ready to open up to Tony, he was the one pulling away. Which just went to show that she’d been right — destiny was a bitch.
She looked at Fiorina, wondering how long fate would let her enjoy Rocco’s company before he broke her heart, she broke his, or they were torn apart in some cruel way.
Fiorina tilted her head, waiting for an answer.
Cara let out a long breath. Was she upset? With herself, yes. For relaxing her guard. For daring to hope…to dream…
To love, her lion side mourned.
Finally, she forced a smile. “Just a little cranky, I guess. Sorry.”
Fiorina touched her hand. “I get like that sometimes too. You know what works for me? Chocolate.”
Cara laughed out loud. But come to think of it…
A short time later, she left the kitchen with a steaming mug of hot cocoa and sipped it on a bench in the sun. It was another chilly winter day, especially with a fresh breeze coming in from the northeast — a hint of a bora, as locals called it. But if she tilted her chin up and threw a shawl over her shoulders, she could do what lions did best — bask in the sun and think.
* * *
The day dragged by with little to lift her spirits. Not even the hour spent training with Fiorina — this time without Tony’s assistance — nor lunch, and especially not the afternoon, when Fiorina set out to paint. Normally, Cara would have relished a walk, but where did Fiorina head?
“Oh, the fort!” Fiorina had squeaked. “Perfect!”
Cara nearly buried her face in her hands. The last thing she wanted was to revisit the place where she’d laid herself bare in the most out-of-control, passionate night of her life.
“How about the other end of the island? Nice views of Venice from there,” she tried.
But apparently, the afternoon light would be just perfect at the fort, and Cara had no choice but to trail along. Rocco came too, puffing out his chest and glaring at every sound in the underbrush. Clearly, he was taking his protector role more seriously than ever.
Cara did the same. After all, that was why she’d turned her life upside down over the past days.
Still, she resolved to get back to doing what she loved most the minute she could — getting out into the lagoon to protect ecosystems that benefited nature and mankind.
And definitely no more midnight romps with GI Giuseppe, she reminded herself, keeping her gaze away from the well in the center of the fortress grounds.
At least Fiorina was happy. Between painting and flirting with Rocco, the girl was on cloud nine. Cara managed a little smile. If anyone deserved happiness, Fiorina did. Cara just hoped it would last.
Slowly, the sun angled toward the horizon, and shadows snaked long across the lawn. The air grew chillier, but all in all, peace reigned.
That was, until Rocco stiffened, sniffed the air, and gestured urgently. “Pack up. Quickly. We have to go.”
“Why?” Fiorina protested.
Cara nearly asked the same thing. There was no sign of an intruder, no sound of rushing engines or creeping kidnappers. What was wrong?
“Tony wants us back at the house. Pronto,” Rocco said.
Cara’s heart sank. Tony must have used the mental link he shared with his cousin. He could have tried the same with her, but obviously, he was through with intimacy. She got that message loud and clear.
Well, I don’t. Her lioness stubbornly clung to hope.
But the moment they returned to the house, all those thoughts vanished. Arturo was pacing — something she had never seen the calm, quiet man do. Tony stood beside him, arms crossed, his face grave. A terrifying sight, really, when Cara took a closer look. She’d grown so used to being around him that his sheer size and power no longer registered.
Well, it registered last night, her lioness hummed.
She rolled her eyes. The point was, he was back in soldier mode, and it was a damn good thing he was on her side.
“What is it?” Fiorina asked.
Arturo jerked a finger toward the neighboring island. “A friend called. Apparently, someone is on Burano asking about Tony — and you.”
Fiorina paled. “Who?”
“He didn’t say. Only that a woman was wandering around asking about you.”
Cara didn’t like the sound of that. “What woman?”
Arturo brushed a hand over his head. “Long, curly hair, dyed blond. Expensive dress. Aristocratic manners — right down to the crocodile-skin purse.”
Fiorina’s jaw dropped. “My aunt?”
Everyone went still before Rocco growled. “How would she know we’re out here?”
When Fiorina paled, Cara went stiff. “You didn’t tell her, did you?”
“No! Of course not,” Fiorina squeaked. “I just called my mother — once,” she added quickly. “And my aunt. I didn’t want them to worry. But I swear, I didn’t mention where we are.”
Cara saw Tony gritting his teeth, barely containing his anger. When the church bells on the neighboring island bonged, he turned his head. “If she heard those in the background…”
Rocco scoffed. “There are dozens of church bells in Venice, and they all sound the same.”
Arturo looked scandalized. “They don’t sound anything alike. Especially not the bells of Santa Catarina.”
Fiorina looked doubtful, but Cara could believe it. She’d met old-timers out fishing in the lagoon who would turn and smile at the faintest ring of “their” bells in the distance.
“Well, she doesn’t seem to know exactly where we are,” Rocco said, coming to Fiorina’s rescue.
“The question is, what does she want?” Tony growled.
Cara didn’t know, but something told her it wouldn’t be good.
Rocco shrugged. “Let’s go find out.”
Tony shook his head. “What if it’s a trap?”
“Set by my aunt?” Fiorina protested. “That’s preposterous.”
Much as Cara disliked Ismerelda, she had to agree.
Tony stroked his chin thoughtfully. “Perhaps, but if someone followed her…”
A crow cawed in the distance, and everyone went silent, thinking.
“Did Theo report anything?” Rocco asked.
Tony shook his head. The dragon shifter was continuing his investigation in Venice as they spoke.
“I can’t exactly keep her waiting,” Fiorina insisted. “She’s come all this way…”
Cara glanced at Tony, who looked as dubious as she felt.
The others debated for a while, but it was Tony who had the final word. “All right. We’ll go look for her on Burano. It’s better than having her snooping around here.”
Arturo clenched his fists. “No one snoops on my land. I’ll show them.”
Cara had no doubt Arturo would fiercely guard his home soil. But he was no spring chicken, and she could see Tony’s concern.
“I know you will,” he said gently. “But I’d rather go out and face trouble on my own terms than have it charge in on us when we’re not prepared.” He shot Rocco a grim look. “Get the boat ready. We’ll leave in ten minutes.”
That set off a flurry of activity, and soon, everyone filed toward the boat. Arturo sent Tony off with a thump on the shoulder — one small movement that spoke volumes. I won’t embarrass either one of us with more than this, but you take care, my boy.
Cara shot the old man a quick smile before heading out, but Arturo held her back until the others were out of earshot.
At first, his expression made her think he was about to say, Everything all right? I thought you two were getting along well.
I thought so too, she thought glumly.
But Arturo gave himself a little shake and changed tacks. “Watch yourself. And watch that Ismerelda.”
“You don’t trust her?”
The old man made a face. “I trust no one.” Then he broke into a faint smile. “Allora, hardly anyone. I trust my grandson. And I trust you.”
She gulped. “What about destiny?”
He cocked his head. “What about it?”
She stared. Surely, he knew what she meant. “I don’t know whether to trust whatever it has planned.”
Arturo snorted. “Destiny? Let me tell you a secret.” He leaned in. “Destiny doesn’t lay out plans so much as possibilities. A whole chessboard of them, with each move depending on the next. Of course, many aspects of the game are predetermined, such as how many squares each figure can move. But that still leaves countless possibilities, and those are largely up to you.”
Her heart swelled. If that was true…
Arturo smiled softly. “My beloved Maria taught me that. We have the power to match every one of destiny’s moves with one of our own.” When he glanced over to where the others had gone, his features hardened, and he took her by both shoulders. “So, keep your eyes open, and be ready to move. Oh, and keep an eye on my grandson too.”
Cara nearly laughed. If anyone could take care of himself, it was Tony.
But Arturo shook his head. “Oh, he’s a good soldier, I’ll give him that. But there are more important things in life. Things he’s only starting to understand.” Arturo touched his chest. “And as my beloved Maria said, men are slow learners when it comes to matters of the heart.”
Cara’s mouth fell open, but Arturo went on.
“We’re slow to learn, but once we do, we never forget.” His eyes grew a little misty, and he looked toward the photo of his mate. “We never, ever forget.”
Cara bit her lip, caught between hope and sorrow. Then Rocco called from a distance. “Cara? Time to go.”
Arturo nudged her toward the canal, then heaved a heavy sigh. “You take care.”
Cara stepped toward the path, then turned back to whisper, “You take care, too.”
Chapter Eighteen
Cara did her best to project cool confidence as they puttered across the canal in Arturo’s little boat. But her hands balled into fists and her nerves fluttered — partly from Arturo’s warning, partly from his words of hope.
We men are slow to learn, but once we do, we never forget. She glanced at Tony. Was there any hope of him coming around?
The canal separating Mazzorbetto from Mazzorbo was barely the width of a football field, but it took a good fifteen minutes to wind around the north tip of the neighboring island. From there, they motored across another narrow canal to the island of Burano. When they cruised up to a public dock, Tony stepped out of the boat first and stalked around. Rocco hopped up next, giving Fiorina a hand. Cara tied the lines and checked them twice before stepping off the boat. When Tony reached down, offering her his massive hand, she did a double take. First of all, she didn’t need a hand. Second, he’d been shunning her all morning.
But when their eyes locked…
A rush of heat went through her veins, and her heart squeezed.
Mate, her lioness purred.
Tony’s golden-brown eyes glowed when she slipped her hand into his. She wasn’t a featherweight like Fiorina, but Tony pulled her up easily. Briefly, their bodies brushed, and Tony’s lips moved. No sound came out, but she caught his gist all the same.
Sorry for being gruff this morning. Please, please don’t be mad at me.
She took a deep breath, inhaling his scent, then flashed a weak smile. I’ll forgive you if you forgive me.
Tony’s lips curled into a smile.
Too bad Rocco called out just then. “Ready?”
Tony squeezed Cara’s hand then released it with an apologetic look.
She nodded, glancing around. He was right. They had to focus on the task at hand.
“This way,” Tony murmured, setting off for the middle of town. “Stay close.”
Rocco walked briskly behind him, keeping Fiorina at his side. Cara trailed two steps behind, scanning their surroundings. Not for the scenery — though that was a shame, given the gorgeous little village with its pastel houses and winding canals. A miniature Venice, right down to the campanile rising above the rooftops.
But instead of enjoying all that, Cara studied people, shuttered windows, and shaded doorways, doing her best as a bodyguard. Her ears twitched at the slightest sound, and her nostrils flared, testing the air.
“Where are we going?” Fiorina whispered.
Tony jutted his chin. “To the far side of town, where Ismerelda was last seen.”
It was late afternoon, and day-trippers were snapping their last photos or rushing to buy souvenirs of Burano — postcards or the finely crafted lace the island was famous for. The tourists seemed harmless, as did most of the locals, but still. There was a sense of foreboding Cara couldn’t entirely explain.
Fiorina nervously retied the silk scarf she’d worn against the evening chill. Meanwhile, Tony led them in and out of side streets, making steady progress across the small island. Clearly, he knew the island like the back of his hand and was using that knowledge to reconnoiter the area.
At one point, he indicated a waterside park lined with small fishing boats. “That’s our E&E Plan A. Follow that path to loop back to the boat.”
Cara tilted her head, but it was Rocco who asked first. “E&E?”
Tony nodded grimly. “Escape and evasion. If anything happens, we’ll rendezvous at the boat. Worse case, whoever gets there first takes off with Fiorina. Got it?”
Cara gulped. An old man sat fixing his fishing net in the park — a quiet, peaceful scene. Yet she felt like part of a covert military op — and way, way over her head. She glanced at Tony. Did he really think escape and evasion would be necessary?
I hope to hell not, his hard expression said. But you never know.
Which led to Cara’s next question. Who exactly were they up against? Ismerelda couldn’t pose much of a danger. But Fiorina’s aunt could have been followed by that insider they still hadn’t been able to ferret out. In which case…
She slowed down. Were they right to bring Fiorina out of hiding? And, shoot. Why had she let Fiorina wear that bright-pink scarf?
Tony led them steadfastly on, cutting over another canal, through several winding alleys, and across hidden plazas nestled deep in that maze of a village. Then he stuck up a hand, peering around a corner. Everyone huddled behind him, waiting.
“Wait here,” he finally murmured, taking off.
Fiorina glanced nervously at Cara, who did her best to look confident. But, yikes. Tony might know what he was doing, but she had no clue. Even Rocco seemed aware that he might be out of his league.
A few minutes later, someone spoke from behind Cara, and she nearly jumped.
“Right.” It was Tony, striding up as if he hadn’t just scared the living daylights out of her. “Ismerelda is at a cafe around the corner. She has two guards with her — a wolf and a lion shifter.”
“Just two?” Rocco sounded relieved.
“Two in plain sight. The question is, are there others?”
“My aunt would never do me any harm,” Fiorina insisted.
“That may be, but she might have been followed. Whatever you do, keep an eye on me. If I make this signal, you get to Rocco’s side. Pronto.” Tony held up a clenched fist, then looked at Cara. “If I do that, you stick with Fiorina and cover her from the right. Rocco takes the left. Got it?”
Cara nodded. “Got it.” Her tone was confident, but butterflies swooped around her stomach. What if this somehow went wrong?
“Allora, andiamo,” Tony muttered. Let’s go.
Cara followed him along the wide pavement that fronted another canal. Ahead was a restaurant with red-and-white checkered tablecloths and cheery blue walls. Thanks to the late hour, there was only one customer — Fiorina’s aunt was sitting with her back to the wall, gazing out over the canal as if it were just another pleasant day on the Adriatic.
The waiter clearing tables appeared friendly, but the bulky men standing a short distance away did not. At least Cara recognized them as shifters who worked security at the Guardian’s
palace. They couldn’t mean any harm, could they?
Still, she scanned beyond them, heeding Tony’s words. Were there others in hiding?
When Ismerelda spotted them, she sipped her wine then daintily pressed a napkin to her lips.
“Ah, there you are.” She sighed as if they’d kept her waiting.
“Yes, here we are,” Rocco muttered.
Fiorina smiled. “Zia. Nice to see you.”
Her aunt stuck out a hand, and Fiorina bent to kiss it. Cara rolled her eyes. Poor Fiorina craved hugs and warmth, but clearly, her aunt wasn’t about to offer either.
“Signora Ismerelda,” Tony greeted her in his coolest, most emotionless voice. “May I ask what brings us the pleasure?”
He was laying on his best manners, but Ismerelda was unimpressed. “I’m checking on my niece, of course.”
“She’s fine,” Rocco grunted.
Ismerelda barked a humorless laugh. “Says the man who kidnapped her. She was fine in Venice.”
“I’m fine,” Fiorina insisted. “And it’s not kidnapping if you agree to go.”
Ismerelda shot Cara, Rocco, and Tony withering looks that said, Clearly, you’ve been messing with her head. Then she thrust out a finger, ordering them to go.
“I would like to speak to my niece alone.”
Rocco opened his mouth to protest, but Cara touched his arm. She didn’t like the idea either, but it was up to Fiorina to decide.
Fiorina clasped her hands nervously, looking between her aunt and her friends. Cara had never seen her look so uncertain, and her heart sank. If only Fiorina had the nerve to stand up to strong personalities like her aunt and, well…pretty much everyone in Venice.
But to her surprise, Fiorina straightened her shoulders and spoke decisively, even if her voice cracked a little. “Of course, I’d love to talk. But Cara stays.”
Cara’s chest rose with pride. Maybe she shouldn’t underestimate Fiorina.
“But, darling. How can you be sure they’re trustworthy?”
Funny, Cara was starting to wonder the same about Ismerelda.
“A person in your position must be careful, you know,” Ismerelda went on in a conspiratorial whisper.
Fiorina paled, but she didn’t relent. “That’s why I’ve asked Cara to stay.”
