Total pages in book: 102
Estimated words: 96460 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 482(@200wpm)___ 386(@250wpm)___ 322(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 96460 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 482(@200wpm)___ 386(@250wpm)___ 322(@300wpm)
“Don’t worry about it.” I pushed away from the wall, away from her, extending a hand toward the path to her room. “Let’s go.”
She remained, an eyebrow lifted. Like a challenge.
I didn’t have time for this. I needed to relay the deal I’d overheard and get my office working on the name Giovanni had dropped. The sooner it was done, the sooner the Abramos were handled and I was out of this mess.
“Why were you spying on our boss?” Her voice was hushed as she strolled closer, and I had to will my body not to respond. Not to reach out and touch her. “That’s what you were doing, right?”
“No. Giovanni wanted privacy. He asked me to hang back.”
Her mouth lifted in that infuriating, sexy smile. “Yeah, sorry. I don’t believe you. He had no idea you were there.” She moved to the path, only—
“You’re going the wrong way,” I said.
She moved fast too, her pace demanding I keep up.
“Not if I’m going to the lodge.”
“Olivia, stop.” My voice was cold and harsh, but I was still stunned when it worked. She turned to face me, her eyes furious.
“Don’t tell me what to do.”
The phone in my pocket twitched with the door alarm. Presumably, Giovanni had made it back to his room and was within range of my listening devices. Which meant it was unnecessary to throw her over my shoulder and carry her back to her cabin to avoid him.
I hesitated at the thought, fearing how my hands and mouth would react to having her in my arms.
“You’re right,” I said in a low voice. “He didn’t exactly know I was there, and that’s all I’m going to say about it. I need you to understand that Giovanni’s dangerous.”
Her eyes narrowed to slits. “And I need you to understand, I can take care of myself. Trust me, I’ve dealt with men worse than him.”
She said it with such conviction, I wanted to believe her, but I shook my head. “You don’t know him.”
“No, I suppose that’s true. Vitale travels more.” Her gaze sharpened. Her head tilted a degree, letting the moonlight play over her high cheekbones. I watched the annoyance fade from her expression, and her words came out weighted, insinuating. As if she were sharing a secret. “I’ve seen a lot more with him.”
Wait a minute. I pulled my shoulders back, standing straighter. “What does that mean? What’ve you seen?”
“You want to talk about it here? In the dark with me?” Her face turned skeptical.
An excellent point. Turning her down last time had been near impossible, and I wouldn’t survive a second time.
As soon as we stepped inside the lodge, I dug my phone out and sent a coded text message to Daniel. The reply came back quickly.
Daniel:
On it.
Since the bartender was gone for the evening, the manager, Frances, led us to the bar area, clunked an unopened bottle of beer down in front of each of us, then scurried back to the computer she’d been working on in the front office.
The narrow bar was cozy. Pin lighting over the rack of bottles behind the bar provided the only light in the room, reflected by a mirror on the back wall. I sat on a barstool, expecting her to as well, but instead she glanced to the door Frances had disappeared through.
Satisfied she was clear, she slipped behind the bar.
“What are you doing?” I asked.
She rummaged around, and bottles clinked together softly. Finished, she turned and set two glass tumblers on the bar, pouring a few swallows’ worth of amber liquid into each one. The bottle was so dusty I couldn’t read the label until she’d screwed the cap back on.
“You like bourbon?” I asked.
She gave me a weird look, just short of embarrassment. “It reminds me of home. My dad drinks this.”
I stifled the urge to say anything. To tell her that on the nights I missed being Stateside, I’d drink bourbon. Like the expensive bourbon she’d just poured for us.
Don’t drink it. I needed to get the information from her and promptly get away. Drinking bourbon alone in a dark bar with an American, who happened to be the most gorgeous woman I’d ever seen, was riskier than gunplay.
“Vitale,” I prompted, ignoring the drink.
What if this woman across the bar was the key to busting my operation wide open? I tracked every move of the glass as she brought it to her full lips and drank. My gaze continued its journey down her slender neck as she swallowed.
“He travels a lot . . . to Spain.” She set her drink down and leaned her elbows on the bar. “My first job when I moved overseas was a commercial route between Madrid and Barcelona. The Abramos know I don’t speak Italian.”
It took me no time to put it together. “But you speak Spanish.”