Halo (K19 Security Solutions Book 8)

by Heather Slade

  When I left thirty minutes later, I wasn’t any less pissed off than I had been when I walked out. I was bypassing Striker, and I didn’t give a fuck. Something was up, and my gut was telling me it was above my former boss’ pay grade.

  “Hey, Doc,” I said when he answered my call.

  “Halo.”

  “There’s a situation with AISE I need to discuss with you.”

  “Go on.”

  I relayed the chain of events of my meeting with Agents Casavetti and Cesare.

  “It isn’t uncommon for AISE to have their heads up their asses.”

  “There’s more.” I told him what Matteo had shared with me about a string of accidents that had occurred at the Valentini winery over the course of the last few years, including one that almost killed Giovanni Deltetto, Pia’s father. Five years ago, the man had been run over by a forklift and was left paralyzed. Two years later, he died of a heart attack.

  “There were other accidents, Doc, but—”

  “Why is AISE involved?”

  “My thoughts exactly.”

  “Agent Casavetti wasn’t forthcoming with the answer?”

  “Negative.”

  “Let me see what I can find out.”

  “One other thing, the agent who’s at Valentini undercover, Lucia Cesare, her father, who was the head winemaker there for many years, was also a victim of an accident that almost killed him.”

  “Another forklift?” Doc asked.

  “Negative. This time, it was a faulty ventilation system. He suffered carbon dioxide poisoning.”

  I knew Doc was thinking the same thing I was. Neither of these accidents, nor the other minor ones the two agents had shared with me, were at a level that required AISE involvement. There had to be more to the story that neither Casavetti nor Cesare were willing to tell.

  “I heard you found Tara.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “While I realize there’s a chance she may have played a role in the crimes her father is wanted for, I sincerely hope that isn’t the case.”

  “Copy that, Doc.”

  Even more than for Striker, finding Tara had been personal for Doc. Long before K19 Security Solutions was in existence, Tara was Doc’s daughter, Quinn’s, best friend. While it was from a distance, he’d watched both women grow up.

  Before getting on the road, I made one more call, to Tackle.

  “How’s Italy?” he asked.

  “Every bit as beautiful as you would expect it to be.”

  “How come I don’t get these assignments?”

  That was a good question, one I didn’t have an answer for. “I found Tara Emsworth,” I said instead.

  “Where?”

  “Essentially under my nose.”

  I told him the same story I’d told Striker.

  “That is unbelievable.”

  “I know.”

  My friend’s tone changed. “What’s going on, Knox?” he asked, using my first name rather than my code name, maybe recognizing the difference in my voice too.

  “This is going to sound crazy.”

  “I’m listening.”

  “I know I’m way out of line here, but…she’s…we connected. The second I saw her.”

  “It happens.”

  “It does?”

  “Even when it isn’t supposed to.”

  “So you know what I’m talking about?”

  “Yep.”

  “What do I do?”

  “You were with me on that plane, Knox. You know as well as I do that there’s no way we should’ve survived that crash.”

  “Right.”

  “Live your life, my friend. Reach out and grab every bit of happiness you can.”

  “Is that what you’re doing?”

  “Damn straight, I am.”

  “The job—”

  “Fuck the job.”

  When I walked into the tasting room at Casavetti, Pia and Tara were already there. “Good afternoon, ladies.”

  “Ben!” exclaimed Pia. “You made it.” She tugged on Tara’s arm. “Isn’t that fantastico?”

  Tara nodded, turned to me, mouthed, “Sorry,” and rolled her eyes.

  I looked her up and down. She looked as gorgeous today as she had yesterday. Instead of jeans and a sweater, she was wearing a tight-fitting charcoal-gray turtleneck with equally tight-fitting black pants. Instead of sandals, she wore mid-calf-height black boots.

  “Do I look okay?” she asked when I got close enough that she could do so without anyone else hearing.

  “You look beautiful.”

  Her cheeks flushed. “I wasn’t fishing for a compliment. These clothes belong to Pia, and I’m quite a bit taller than she is.”

  “You look great,” I said out loud, but inside, I wanted to tell her she looked so fucking sexy I could barely keep my hands off of her. Tackle’s words echoed in my head. “Reach out and grab every bit of happiness you can,” he’d said. I leaned closer to her.

  “Would you like to taste?” she asked, offering me her glass.

  “If you don’t mind sharing.”

  “It isn’t my favorite,” she whispered.

  I took a sip of the white wine. “I would have to agree.” When I reached around her and tossed what was left into the dump bucket, my body brushed against hers. She made the same mewling sound she had last night and this morning, and looked up at me. I stared into her deep blue eyes and then at her lush red lips, fighting an overwhelming desire to kiss her.

  “Would you like to taste?” asked the woman behind the bar.

  “We could share,” Tara said before I had a chance to respond. “Since you’re driving.”

  “I’d like that.”

  “What do you think of my cousin’s wine?” Pia asked, jarring me out of the spell Tara had swept me under. I took an abrupt step back.

  “It’s very good,” I said, clearing my throat. “Um, very good.”

  Pia swatted my arm. “You have no idea whether it is good or not. You’re too busy admiring our Catarina.”

  “Guilty,” I admitted, winking at Tara.

  When we were finished in the tasting room, Pia gave us a tour of the Casavetti winery buildings. It seemed everywhere we went, we met another of her cousins. They all looked a lot like Matteo.

  When we exited the last building, an older man approached. “Uncle Joe!” Pia exclaimed. “I want you to meet my friends. This is Catarina Benedetto and Ben Knox.”

  The man took Tara’s hand and kissed the back of it.

  “This is my uncle, Guiseppe Casavetti, but everyone calls him Joe.”

  “Zia Renata will want to see you and meet your friends, Pia. She’s on the terrazza.”

  Pia cheek-kissed her uncle, and we followed her to the outside steps.

  “Zia Renata is my father’s sister,” she explained. “She sometimes gets emotional when she sees me.”

  Evidently, this was not one of those times. Pia’s aunt welcomed us graciously, immediately asking if we were hungry.

  “I’m so sorry, Zia, but we’re on our way to Vitticio. Perhaps another time.”

  “Vitticio?” she gasped.

  “Yes, Zia. Catarina is working for Valentini, and we’re visiting some of the other wineries’ tasting rooms.”

  “But Vitticio?” her aunt asked. “Paolo è cattivo,” she muttered under her breath.

  “Zia, you exaggerate.”

  The woman shook her head.

  “Do you understand what she said?” I whispered.

  “She said that Paolo is wicked, evil. Cattivo means the same thing,” Tara whispered back.

  “Maybe we should skip Vitticio,” I mumbled, although not quietly enough.

  “Sì,” said Pia’s aunt. “We will eat instead.”

  10

  Tara

  “No, Zia. We cannot stay. If we don’t go to Vitticio, we’ll visit another winery,” said Pia, hugging her aunt.

  I wasn’t sure why we couldn’t stay, but I knew that even if we did, I
wouldn’t be able to eat another meal like I had the night before. I lost count of how many courses we’d gone through as well as how many bottles of wine.

  My breath caught when Ben stepped closer, and his hand brushed mine. Earlier, if Pia hadn’t interrupted us, I was sure he was going to kiss me. I was so disappointed when he took a step back. When I felt another brush of his hand, I looked down and then up into his eyes. I knew neither time had been accidental when he moved his hand again, took mine in his, and pulled our clasped hands behind his back. He stroked my thumb with his.

  Pia was speaking to her aunt, but I was so focused on Ben, I couldn’t hear anything she was saying.

  He squeezed my hand and let go, stepping forward to say goodbye to Zia Renata.

  “Are you okay?” Pia asked.

  “Yes. Why do you ask?”

  “You are so flushed. Do you have a fever?”

  “I don’t think so. Perhaps some water would be a good idea.” I walked over to where I’d noticed a pitcher early and poured a glass.

  “Everything all right?” Ben asked, standing close enough behind me that I could feel his warmth.

  I couldn’t stop myself. I leaned just slightly, so I could feel the muscles of his chest against my back. He moved his hand to my waist.

  “That isn’t helping,” I whispered.

  He leaned closer, so his mouth was next to my ear. “Are you sure?”

  “I’m positive.”

  I turned my head just slightly, hoping Pia was still preoccupied with her conversation. She wasn’t. She was looking right at us. Smiling.

  “I have some business to take care of before we go to the next winery, and don’t forget we need to go to Sienna to pick up your things from the pensione.”

  I’d completely forgotten about that, but Pia was right. It was something I had to do this afternoon.

  “I could take Catarina to Sienna.”

  I looked up at Ben. “I don’t want to trouble you.”

  “It’s no trouble at all.”

  “Perfetto,” squealed Pia. “We will meet in Pienza.”

  “Pienza? Is that where the other winery is?”

  She shook her head and looked over her shoulder.

  I laughed out loud. “What are you up to?”

  Pia put her hand on her hip, but she didn’t look angry. “Nothing!” She leaned forward and lowered her voice. “We will meet at La Terrazza Del Chiostro. It is owned by my friend Alejandra. That is where we’ll have dinner.”

  I checked the time. It was early for dinner, but it would take us at least an hour to get to Sienna from here and then another hour from there to Pienza.

  “This is me,” said Ben when we reached the parking area. He held the passenger door of a sleek black car open for me.

  “Thank you.”

  Before I could bend down to get in the car, Ben put his hand on my arm. “Wait.”

  I stood straight and stared into his eyes. “Look, I’m really embarrassed about the way Pia is pushing us together. If you’d prefer to go straight to Valentini, I understand, and I won’t mind.”

  “That wasn’t what I was going to say.”

  “Oh.” I sighed and rolled my shoulders. “What were you going to say?”

  “I would really like to…kiss you.”

  And I’d ruined it. I should just face the facts I really wasn’t cut out for romance. Especially with someone like Ben—who was off-the-charts hot as fuck. When I bent down a second time to get in the car, he rested his hand on my shoulder.

  “Catarina? Did you hear me? I said I’d really like to kiss you.”

  “Still?”

  He smiled and nodded.

  “I would like that too.”

  He leaned forward and touched my lips with his. His kiss was soft and sweet. When he ran his tongue over my lower lip, I opened to him and deepened the kiss. My fingers played with the soft curls at the base of his scalp, and I whimpered.

  “I love that sound,” he whispered, blowing into my ear before pulling back and looking into my eyes. “We should probably get going.”

  I bit my bottom lip. “Sure.” I spun around and bent to get into the car, but he stopped me for the third time.

  “There’s a difference between not wanting to kiss you and feeling like I can’t for other reasons.” He wrapped his arm around my waist and pulled me into him.

  “Ciao!” I heard Pia shout from across the parking area. “See you later in Pienza!”

  Ben buried his head in my shoulder while I laughed and waved. “We should go.”

  “We should.” When he didn’t move, I gave him a push and got in the car.

  When we arrived in Sienna, I offered to go into the pensione while Ben waited in the car. “I don’t have much. It’ll just be a minute,” I’d told him, but he insisted on coming in with me.

  “Please, allow me to be a gentleman.”

  Since I had everything already packed to leave, it only took us a minute to grab my bags from the room and be on our way.

  “I’ll just leave the key in the drop,” I said as Ben went out to put my things in the car. When I followed a couple of minutes later, someone caught my eye from across the courtyard. A man ducked around the corner before I could get a good look at him, but from behind, I swear it could’ve been Brand.

  I felt Ben’s hand on my arm. “Everything okay?”

  “Yes, fine,” I said, turning to face him.

  “You sure?”

  When I nodded, he opened the car door, and I got in. Before he drove away, I took one more glance across the courtyard, but no one was there.

  “You must be Ben and Catarina,” a woman said when we approached La Terrazza Del Chiostro.

  “We are,” Ben answered. “Might you be Alejandra?”

  “Sì,” she said, giggling when Ben kissed the back of her hand. “Pia asked me to tell you she’s been delayed, but she will be here very soon.”

  My eyes met Ben’s.

  “Come,” said Alejandra. “I have your table ready. Right this way.”

  I looked over my shoulder and smiled at Ben, who seemed to notice at the same time I did that the table was set for two people, not three.

  “Pia is delayed. That is what you said?”

  “Sì, she is only delayed.”

  “Delayed until tomorrow, I think,” said Ben when Alejandra walked away. “I have to admit, I don’t mind having you all to myself.” He cleared his throat. “And probably better that we’re in a public place.”

  He poured two glasses of wine from the bottle on the table and looked around for menus. I doubted we would need them. Like Pia the night before, Alejandra would probably continue bringing food until we couldn’t eat another bite.

  “So what brought you to Italy?” Ben asked.

  I’d given the question a lot of thought, expecting it would come eventually. “The road less traveled,” I murmured.

  “What’s that?”

  “I needed a change. A big change. My life wasn’t working the way it was.”

  He put his head in his hand and studied me.

  “There have been times in my life when I thought a particular day was the worst ever. Maybe even that life as I knew it was over. In hindsight, I wonder if, instead, it was when my life really began.” I had no idea why I was telling him all this. Why I decided this was the time to pour my heart out. “I’m sorry,” I murmured. “More than you wanted to know.”

  He shook his head. “Not true. In fact, I could listen to you talk all night.”

  I rolled my eyes and laughed, but he didn’t even crack a smile.

  “I mean it, Catarina.”

  “What about you? You said you’re a journalist?”

  11

  Halo

  Tara had been as honest with me as she could be under the circumstances. She’d shared so much that I found myself wishing I didn’t have to lie to her.

  “The work I’m doing is investigative.”

  “Something to do with the Knight
s Templar?”

  I was intrigued. “What makes you ask that particular question?”

  “It’s all the rage, isn’t it? Buried treasures rumored to be left along Via Cassia. Can you imagine?”

  I put my head in my hand, enthralled by this woman. I found myself wishing I really were a journalist. What fun Tara and I could have, exploring not just Tuscany, but all of Italy—writing about wine and “buried treasures” by day, ravaging one another’s bodies by night.

  “To be honest, I have more interest in the idea that they hid as much art as they did gold.”

  “A theory I’ve not heard.”

  She rested her elbow on the table and raised her hand just slightly. “I’ll admit to being a bit of an art nerd. I have a degree in it, in fact. Well, the history of it.”

  I took a sip of wine, hoping she would continue. Instead, she looked lost in thought. “What made you choose art history?”

  “Even when I was little, I could spend hours in galleries. It became an obsession, really.” Her cheeks turned pink, and she bit her bottom lip. “So boring,” she murmured, barely above a whisper. “What about you? Why journalism?”

  We spent the next hour dancing around what we could and couldn’t talk about. Only I was aware that’s what we were doing. I still learned a lot about her without her needing to tell me about her family or her best friends.

  I tried not to think about what I’d seen in Sienna, but I couldn’t help it. I’d followed Tara’s line of sight when she came out to the car, and saw a man duck around the corner. I caught enough of his height and build to know it couldn’t have been Richard Emsworth, but who was it? It had shaken her enough I couldn’t help but think she recognized him.

  “Do you have any siblings?” she asked.

  “I have a sister. Younger. Her name is Sloane.”

  “Are you close?”

  “Not really.” Saying the words out loud made me sad, especially after surviving the plane crash. Hadn’t I vowed to tell the people who were important to me that I loved them? I’d certainly told Sloane, but had I done anything to forge a stronger relationship with her? “What about you?” I asked.