“That was a long time ago, Geno, and those members are no longer serving,” she reminded, sharing with him that she was up on the history of the failings of the council.
“We’re on the ninth floor now,” Geno continued, ignoring the conversation regarding the council. “As you can see, the great room has a double-height ceiling, an ethanol fireplace and walls of windows overlooking the water. The home office is on this floor, as well as a gourmet kitchen, dining room, gallery and a library. Each floor has a terrace, and all floors are connected by that very cool swirling staircase, which, frankly, is a work of art and one of the reasons I had to have this apartment.”
Amaranthe had to agree she’d never seen anything quite like the stairway connecting the three floors. Now that the others were gone and she took her time to really look around the apartment, she was shocked that it wasn’t anything she would have expected to find Geno Ferraro living in. She didn’t know what that would have been, but not this.
Everything was white. High ceilings and walls of white. Long rooms that flowed into open spaces. White tiles on the floor. Glass walls. Even the dramatic swirling staircase was white. There were black accents. Thin stripes of black were here and there on the walls or ceiling. The grand piano was black. The furniture was white and very comfortable, accented by a white-and-black bowl artfully placed, but for the most part, the décor was at a minimum.
“The tenth floor consists of the master bedroom suite, spa bath, sauna and dressing areas. It also has a library and guest room with private bath.” Geno continued to sound mostly like a tour guide, not as if he had tremendous pride in his home.
Amaranthe found his method of delivery interesting since she was in his mind and knew he enjoyed his home. It was a sanctuary of sorts to him. It wasn’t simply a place for him to come back to at night and sleep. He did find a semblance of peace in the wide-open spaces and his tremendous views.
“The room I stayed in the last couple of days,” she guessed. “That must be the guest room off the library.”
He nodded. “The doctor wanted us close together. The training room and surgery are on the tenth floor as well.” He paused as he led the way to the staircase. “Why do you suppose whoever murdered the parents of riders in Croatia stopped with those murders without killing the rest of the riders? You do believe it’s their intention to kill me, don’t you? And my brothers.”
She answered without hesitation. “I didn’t at first. Not until I realized you weren’t involved. I think they intend to go back and kill the riders. They didn’t want to draw too much attention to themselves the first time. I think they were practicing to see if they could get away with it. If they drew the attention of the Archambaults by killing the younger riders, too, they would have a much more difficult time getting away with their master plan.”
“There is an elevator if you’re too tired to climb the stairs, Amara. Or I can carry you.”
She had to smile at the image in his mind. He liked the idea of carrying her. She might like the idea a little too much as well, and that was just plain silly. “I think I can manage.”
“You do think they’ll eventually go back to Croatia and kill the riders if they can,” Geno ventured, indicating for her to start up the stairs.
The spiraling staircase was wide and gave Amaranthe the impression of climbing her way to the stars. She had no idea why, other than the clear stairs or the white modern, very cool enclosed banister that swirled in a long spiral from the eighth floor to the tenth in one continuous four-foot-high rail appeared to go on forever.
“I have a very strong feeling, Geno, but that’s all. New York has even fewer riders here than Croatia. These assassins take their time. They have patience. I think they’re still here, so they aren’t finished. That means they’re going to at least try for a rider.”
“And you believe that rider is me.”
“You set yourself up deliberately by sending your brothers away and then you set a trap with that wallet.” She paused on the stair above him and flashed a smile over her shoulder. “You had no way of knowing I’d intercept the wallet.”
His hand swept over her hair, for one moment tangling his fingers in it. A little shiver of awareness crept down her spine.
“No, but I’m grateful you did. We’ll be able to figure this out so much faster together.”
Even the sound of his voice was appealing to her. It was becoming harder not to make a fool of herself by flinging herself at him. Not only was she physically attracted to him, but she especially liked that he treated her as if she had a brain.
She had never had a chance to share her life with anyone else. She always thought she would have a difficult time being with another person for a prolonged period of time.She hadn’t considered herself lonely. She was used to spending time alone, and it felt normal to her—until she was with Geno. Until her shadow and Geno’s shadow had tangled together.
“Just how compromised are our shadows?” She paused at the very top of the stairs and once more turned to look at him.
Geno crowded close to her. “I wasn’t about to let you get away from me. We’d both be in trouble if either of us tried to walk away.”
Her breath caught in her throat. “You risked your ability to be a shadow rider? You were that certain? You riskedbothour abilities?”
He nodded, his eyes darkening as his gaze drifted over her face. “I knew you were the one for me almost from the moment I felt your presence. Once I was in your mind there was no turning back, so I made certain there was no mistake.”
“You have a ruthless side.”
There was no humor in his smile. He looked utterly dangerous. Heat rushed through her veins and a dark thrill crept down her spine.
“It matches yours,” he pointed out. “We make a good pair.”
She liked that he saw that in her. Not only saw that she could be merciless but appreciated it. She was no shrinking violet. She couldn’t afford to be when she worked alone for months at a time undercover, oftentimes investigating an Archambault. They were men and women with extraordinary senses. One walked a fine line when observing them.
“I think we do,” she agreed.
She turned back to step onto the wide-open floor that was the primary bedroom suite. She could see the bed facing the long wall of windows. It was on a raised platform providing the best view of the water. She skirted the four-foot divider between the suite and staircase and entered the suite. Like the rooms on the other floors, this one was alsowhite tile with white columns, although there were built-in bookshelves on the far end of the room.
