No Place Like Rome

by Julie Moffett

  Slash cursed and pressed his hand to his nose.

  I looked at him in horror. “Oh, my God. I’m so sorry. It’s just you were laughing at me—”

  I tried to sit up, but lost my balance. I fell into him, my hands against his chest, almost as if I were pushing him backward. He tried to steady me, but one hand was on his nose and he lost his balance, too. We ended up falling to the floor with Slash pulling me on top of him. That’s when I looked to my right and saw the tips of a pair of beige patent shoes.

  Slash must have seen them too, because we both instantly stilled.

  “Per amor di Dio!”

  Horrified, I looked up to where Nonna stood glaring down at us. Slash rolled sideways and hopped to his feet, a chagrined look on his face. Thankfully, I didn’t see any blood on his nose. Yet. There was still time for her to clock him one and me after that.

  Without a word, Slash held out a hand and pulled me to my feet. He said something to his grandmother in Italian and she answered crisply before turning and marching away.

  “Oh, God, oh, God, oh, God.” I was hyperventilating. “That looked all wrong. I mean, if taken out of context, of course. Oh, jeez. Did I break your nose?”

  “Not yet.”

  “Do you think Nonna got the wrong impression? Did you tell her I was just practicing Italian methods of showing affection? Well, except for the last part when I smashed your nose and fell to the floor on top of you.” I didn’t think it scientifically possible, but I had started hyperventilating and babbling at the same time. “Oh, God. What did she say?”

  Slash gingerly touched the bridge of his nose. He didn’t seem all that concerned about Nonna’s untimely presence.

  “Do you really want to know what Nonna said, cara?”

  “Yes. No. Jeez, better to know I guess.”

  “Loosely translated...she told us to get a room already.”

  “What?” I hid my face in my hands. “Oh, no. No, no, no. No more wine or excellent Italian food for me ever again.”

  Slash came over to me and took both of my hands in his. “You mastered the Italian way perfectly.”

  I lifted my face. “I did?”

  He put a finger under my chin and nudged it up until I looked into his eyes. “Attraction and affection can be powerful emotions. Italians know that better than most. But you should be warned. You’ve now opened a door to me. I’ll not back out so easily.”

  I stared at him. Holy freaking cow. I had no clue what that was supposed to signify. I made a mental note to call Basia as soon as I could. Of course, I’d have to call as soon as I wasn’t under dire threat of being kidnapped, shot by a poison umbrella, or possibly going to prison for conveniently omitting the fact that I’d found a dead body. Now I had to add being murdered in my sleep by a disgruntled Italian grandma to the list.

  Still, his words seemed significant. How was it that I’d opened the door? Had I ever kissed him before? Yes, plenty of times. But...but he’d always been the one kissing me first. Jeez, was this the first time I’d ever initiated a kiss with him? Did that mean something? Had I opened a door? To what?

  Oh, God. I’d also better find out what it all of this meant in terms of my relationship, or non-relationship, with Finn. Right now I had too many unknown variables. Without variables or, at the very least, a working formula, I was at a complete loss.

  What I did know was that I’d kissed Finn and now I’d kissed Slash. And I mean kissed. So, did that mean I had a relationship with both of them...or neither? Did this make me easy or just easily confused?

  Slash tucked a strand of hair behind my ear. “Don’t think so hard, cara. All will be well.”

  That made the second man in just a few days to tell me not to overthink the relationship thing. As I’m apparently missing the socially intuitive in chip, how else could I figure things out? Why the heck was it all so complicated?

  I needed time to process. As a result, I went to where I felt safest. I took a seat in front of the laptop and examined the progress on the encrypted file. “We’re getting exactly nowhere.”

  He sighed. “I know. Frankly, I’m too tired to think of how to approach it next.”

  “You didn’t seem all that tired a minute ago.”

  He smiled. “Come here and I might just get a second wind.”

  I wisely stayed where I was and kept my mouth shut.

  When Slash saw I wasn’t returning, he stretched. “We’re both worn out. Come on, cara, let’s just go to bed.”

  My eyes widened and I turned in the chair. “Um...well...ah...”

  He sighed. “In separate rooms.”

  I let out a breath of relief. Perhaps my face showed all my emotions because Slash took my hand and pulled me up and into his embrace. I laid my head against his chest and heard the steady thump of his heart. He stroked my hair with his hand.

  “I’m going to amend that statement. You’re not getting off that easy, cara.” He kissed the top of my head. “Tonight we sleep alone. But after that, I offer no promises.”

  Chapter Eight

  Slash led me to a small but charming bedroom with a dresser and bed. My suitcase stood in one corner and there were fresh towels on the flowered bedspread. I undressed and crawled under the covers in my bra and panties, too tired to brush my teeth or even unpack my suitcase to find my pajamas. I could hear someone moving around in the room next to me and wondered if it were Slash or Nonna. I must not have pondered for too long because the next thing I knew sun streamed in through a part in the curtains and I was ravenously hungry again.

  I got up, pulled on a bathrobe, and took some clean clothes out of the suitcase. Praying I wouldn’t run into Nonna before I had a shower, I made my way down the hall to the small bathroom. Luckily it was empty. I took a quick, mostly cold shower in a clawed tub with a handheld nozzle and no shower curtain. The shower took ten minutes, but it took me another twenty to mop up the water I’d sprayed everywhere trying to wash my hair. The Italians were brilliant cooks and enviously friendly, but apparently they were clueless when it came to shower curtains.

  I’d used every towel she’d given me, plus the two others already in the bathroom by the time I’d finished. I didn’t want to judge, but it seemed counterproductive to have a showerhead if you didn’t have a curtain. But given what happened last night, I didn’t feel in any position to give Nonna housekeeping tips.

  I dressed in clean jeans and a sweater before combing out my hair and hooking my computer glasses on the front of my shirt. I figured hacking would be the choice of action for the day.

  I went downstairs to the kitchen. It was empty. I heard some voices outside, so I went to the door, pulled aside the white gauzy curtain and looked out. Slash was talking to a man by a red car. Slash passed him a plastic bag and I realized it was the one that held the dart that had almost got me.

  I was standing by the counter when Slash came back in. He seemed startled to see me. “Good morning, cara. How did you sleep?”

  “Like a log. Seems like I’m the last one up. Where’s Nonna?”

  “She went to the store.” He pressed a kiss against my cheek, completely casual-like. “Did you have any dreams?”

  My face heated. It sounded really sexy, the way he asked me that, and my body responded with a weird tingle. I shook my head. “Ah, I don’t think so. So, how’s your nose?”

  “I don’t have any black eyes.”

  “That’s a good thing, right?”

  He smiled, gave my hair a tug. “Ready for breakfast?”

  I put my hands in my pockets. “Sure. Who was that outside?”

>   “A friend. He’ll find out what’s inside that dart.”

  “I guess that’s good.”

  “We need to know.” He picked up a plate of croissant-like pastries piled on a plate. “I’ll bring the cornetti and you bring the coffee.” He jerked his head toward an old-fashioned coffee machine. Two mugs were nearby and I poured the coffee in, adding at least half a cup of milk to mine.

  We headed back up to the sewing room and sat down in front of the laptops. Slash took the one running the encryption and I took the laptop next to him.

  I picked up one of the croissants and gingerly took a bite. “Oh, my God!” I stuffed the rest of the pastry in my mouth. “It’s got chocolate.” I chewed with my eyes closed to savor the moment. “Any nationality that permits eating chocolate for breakfast is number one in my book.” Picking up a cloth napkin, I wiped the crumbs from my lips. “Have I mentioned I love Italy?”

  He smiled. “You’d be surprised what we often have for breakfast, cara, and it’s not always food.”

  “What is there other than food?”

  He chuckled. “Ah, but I have a lot to teach you.”

  Jeez. There went that tingle again. It was like I had no control over my own body. Slash said something, provocative or not, and my body leapt to whatever conclusion it wanted. And right now, it wanted him.

  I coughed and wiped my hands. “Okay, what’s up?”

  “I ran into a snag with the facial recognition software for Alex Rogolli. I’m running it again. If he’s in the system, we should have the results shortly. I’ve sent the financial spreadsheet to Uncle Bendetetto and asked for his thoughts on it. I’ve put out feelers to my contacts in the Vatican. We are working off suspicions here, so I have to be careful what I say.”

  “You’ve been a busy boy this morning.” I looked over at Slash’s computer, the one running the encryption on the big file. “Any luck there?”

  “Actually a bit of progress. I think we’re on the right path. Deniable encryption is where we need to focus.”

  “We’ve got to get into that file and fast.”

  He took a sip of his coffee. “Want a look since I’ve altered the protocol?”

  Boy, did I ever. He stood and I took his chair, sliding my glasses onto my nose. I didn’t know a lot about deniable encryption, but I was now familiar enough with the basics that I felt confident enough to play. At first I felt self-conscious with Slash standing behind me watching, but after a while I became so absorbed that I even didn’t notice him sit down and slide the plate of cornetti toward me. I also didn’t realize that I’d eaten the entire plate until I noticed the chocolate on the keyboard. Looking up in surprise, I blinked as Slash snapped his cell phone closed and handed me a napkin. Jeez, I’d been so intent I hadn’t even heard him talking.

  I slid the glasses off my nose and rubbed my eyes. “How long have I been at it?”

  “Just over an hour.”

  “I’ve gone exactly nowhere.”

  “I noticed.”

  I took a sip of my stone cold coffee. “What the hell is in this file?”

  “I would say something infinitely interesting. It’s masterfully encrypted, but not impenetrable. We’ll get in. Unfortunately, time is of the essence.”

  “So, what next?”

  Slash leaned back in his chair. “I’ve got news on the dart. We know the substance was a sedative.”

  I wasn’t sure if I should feel relieved or horrified. “So, no one was trying to kill me?”

  “Not at that point. But the interesting thing is, it’s an unusual sedative.”

  “What’s unusual about it?”

  “It has the typical elements of benzodiazepine, a sedative, but it also contained a significant amount of sodium thiopental and amobarbital.”

  I raised an eyebrow. “You’re going to have to speak English. I left my medical degree in the States.”

  “Those are elements often found in a truth serum, cara.”

  I jumped up, nearly upending my coffee mug. “A truth serum?”

  Slash motioned for me to sit back down and I did, perching on the edge of the chair. “It seems as though someone might have wanted your cooperation on something, whether you were willing to give it or not.”

  “That’s nuts.”

  “Not necessarily. You’re an excellent hacker with enviable skills. Someone may want to use those to their advantage whether you wish to cooperate or not.”

  “It still doesn’t make sense. Why me? You’re a better hacker than me.”

  “That’s an arguable point, but I think you already know the answer. Your skills are public, even available for hire, as part of X-Corp, whereas mine are known only to a few people most with a top-secret clearance. As you well know, to many people I don’t even exist, but am a ploy by the government to dissuade potential hackers.”

  He had a point, especially since I had believed that before I’d met him. I exhaled a deep breath. “Okay, so what does it mean?”

  “It means I’m worried. I know we can get into that file, but I don’t think we have a lot of time to play with it. We may need some help to crack open this file.”

  “Your contacts in the Vatican?”

  “That may take too much time. I was thinking closer to home. Our home.”

  I looked at him in surprise. “The Zimmerman twins?”

  Elvis and Xavier Zimmerman were legendary tech heads. Architects of the nation’s most secretive networks, they’d recently left government employ for the more lucrative and less restrictive private sector. They were hands-down the most brilliant people I knew. Even better, they were my only friends other than Basia. More importantly, they were the only other people in the U.S., maybe even the world, capable of cracking this file and doing it quickly.

  “You want me to call them?”

  He nodded. “I want them to come here, if possible. I’d reimburse them for their time, of course. We could do this remotely, but we’ll have a significantly better chance to crack this if all four of us are working on it together in close proximity.”

  “Agreed. But I don’t know if they’ll be able to get away on such short notice.”

  “We can ask.”

  “Okay, then. I’ll call.”

  “Bring them up to speed. If they are able to come, tell them I’ll arrange all transportation. It will be a private jet, so tell them they can bring whatever equipment they think they might need.”

  “Got it.”

  Slash handed me his phone, but I shook my head. “They won’t pick up if they aren’t sure who is calling. I’ll use my phone.”

  I went back to my suitcase and dug out my phone. When I flipped it open I had three messages from my mother. Jeez, she’d probably got my message about going to Rome and wanted to set me up with some Italian politician. I saved them for a listen-at-a-later (or never) time and pressed the button for the twins’ number.

  Elvis picked up on the sixth ring. “Lexi?”

  “Hey, Elvis. How’s it going?”

  “Same old, same old. Want to come over for a game of Quake and some pizza?”

  “You have no idea how much that appeals to me, but it would be kind of hard, seeing as how I’m in Rome.”

  There was a long silence. “You’re on vacation?”

  “No, I’m working. Look, that’s why I’m calling. I’m kind of at an impasse on a case and wondered if you and Xavier were interested in a challenge.”

  “What kind of challenge?”

  “Hacking.”

  “That’s right up your alley.”

  “Well, it’s an unusual file and I have to break it quickly. Neither Slash or I can break it.”

  “Slash?”

  “X-Corp is on a case for his uncle.”

  Another long silen
ce. “Okay, I’m interested. Use a landline and call me back at this number.” He rattled off a number and I committed it to memory. “We’ll be able to talk safely and securely.”

  He hung up and Slash raised an eyebrow. “I need a landline.”

  He led me down the kitchen where Nonna stood at the counter rolling out dough. I plastered a perky smile on my face and tried not to look like a guilty teenager.

  Slash kissed her on the cheek and gave her a one-armed hug. See, there was that kiss-on-the-cheek thing and it apparently was no big deal for Italians to do this to everyone, all the time, regardless if they were friends or relatives. Maybe that was my problem. I should have kissed him on the cheek, not the mouth. But he had been kissing me on the mouth non-stop, so how would I know which one was right?

  Despite my best efforts, my cheeks flushed hot when her gaze met mine. “Uh, good morning, Nonna.”

  She said something and Slash translated. “She asks whether you slept well.”

  My cheeks grew hotter. “I slept great. All alone. By myself.”

  Slash grinned and translated. His grandmother shook her finger in a scolding manner at Slash and he hugged her again.

  “What did you say?”

  “I said we shared a memorable night of unrequited passion under her roof.”

  “What?”

  He laughed. “Don’t worry, cara. Our secret is safe with Nonna. Here’s the phone.” He pointed to an old-fashioned phone sitting on a round table in the kitchen’s corner and then left.

  Jeez. How could he? Now I couldn’t even look at Nonna. I sat down on the chair and dialed Elvis’s number. He picked up on the first ring.

  “Lexi?”

  “Yes.”

  “So, fill me in.”

  I brought him up to speed on all the happenings, including the dead body and the poison umbrella. He listened without interruption and when I finished, he whistled.

  “An umbrella dart with a sedative? That’s kind of ace.”