“And your face. Your face is cut up. What happened? Please tell me you didn’t get into a fight with those men from the club.”
“No,dolce ambrosia.”
She cocked her head when I called her sweet ambrosia just before lightly brushing the tips of her fingers across several cuts. “Then what happened and be honest with me. Did Alexander send you to find me as some form of punishment for whatever skirmish you got into?”
Did she think so little of herself? Laughing, I pulled her hand free, sucking in my breath when the same wild, pulsing chemistry almost lit me on fire. “When I arrived home the night I saw you in the club, I had an interesting gift waiting for me. A pressure bomb that went off as soon as I twisted the knob on the door.”
“What? Oh, my God.” She pulled her hand free, inching so close to me that there was almost no air space between us. “Who did this? Who? Tell me who.”
Hearing the anger in her voice was surprising, almost as if we were sharing a tender moment. “You don’t need to worry about me, Emmeline. I’m tough. I’m Italian.” I was rewarded with another incredible whiff of her perfume, delicate enough the fragrance almost didn’t seem right for her.
Yet in truth, the selection was utterly perfect.
As was everything else about her.
My answer caused her to roll her eyes. She realized she was far too close, taking a giant step away, but miscalculating where she was standing. When she almost stepped into the water, my reflexes were quick enough I pulled her to safety, but with enough force I drove her against my ribs.
With my teeth gritted, I tried to remain silent, but the rip of agony was too much even for me. How many times had I been shot, knifed, punched in the gut and kidneys, and had my face and head smashed with a heavy object? Too many to count, but the doctors had been right. Cracked ribs caused extreme anguish.
What the closeness did do was pull her onto her tiptoes, her palm placed on my chest and her lips dangerously close to mine.
The moment was as painful as the injury given the amount of self-control needed to keep from doing exactly as I’d craved one too many times.
She licked her bottom lip, the ragged sounds she made a clear indication there was something between us other than animosity. But she quickly recovered, sidestepping me this time so as not to fall into the pool. “Do you know who did it?”
“Not yet.”
“Those Spanish assholes?”
“Not likely since they were found murdered.”
I didn’t need to look in her direction to know I’d caught her attention, which was sadly what I’d hoped. While I would die protecting her physically, keeping her from embracing the reality of her life wasn’t on my bingo card for the year. I just wasn’t a touchy-feely kind of guy. That wasn’t how you remained alive.
She was visibly shaken, blinking several times before turning her attention toward the ocean water. “I’m glad you’re alright. I’m sorry about your house.”
“Well, it needed some updates. Maybe you can give me some interior design pointers.”
With all the animosity we’d perpetuated on purpose over the years, the unplanned awkwardness was worse. I didn’t like being out of control in any aspect of my life.
Especially around her.
“Any time.” In a rare moment, she seemed uncertain what to say. “Is someone after you or after me?”
“That remains to be seen.” I’d had some time on the plane to go into discovery mode, which had included the applications from the company running the speed dating event. While the girl had been none too happy to turn over the data, I’d flashed a warm smile and a wave of my weapon and she’d finally given in. “Your buddy Alex doesn’t exist.”
“Who?”
“The man who refused to take no for an answer at your speed dating soiree? His identity turned out to be a fake.”
“Shit.”
“Exactly. Now you know why your disappearance concerned your entire family.”
“As you can see, I’m perfectly fine and took as many precautions as possible. I honestly don’t need you here.”
“You’re not getting rid of me, Emmeline. You already know the reasons why.”
“Then you need to stay in a hotel,” she insisted.