He closed his eyes as if the confession hurt.
“But…I kind of want to stay married to see if we…”
His eyes snapped open, sharp and intense. He waited for me to continue.
It was hard to admit, but I liked him. Not just because he was wounded, or because he tried to hide the vulnerability, like all creatures with fears do, but because I sensed underneath all the glitz and the trappings of his world, and despite the oddity of our circumstances, that he was a careful man. Solid. The kind who valued loyalty and didn’t trust lip service, but instead, looked for the actions behind any worthless words by judging the deeds a person does.
Mario was the kind of person who didn’t suffer cowards or fools, or depended on anyone who couldn’t prove their worth. And somehow, I should be worthy because he’d deemed it so.
In spite of my doubts, I continued. “I think we might fit. Maybe I’m wrong. But I believe we should find out.”
The smile on his face started with a hesitant flicker. Then his lips thinned slightly. But they softened, and the smile grew. The dimples on his face dug deep and remained in place while he silently accepted my answer.
“I’d be honored to have that opportunity.”
Why was my heart beating so fast? He hadn’t said anything earth-shattering or romantic.
But it felt momentous.
9
Mario
Seduction is a delicate art form. One I never paid much attention to. It wasn’t logical. Nor was it an exact science. What worked in one instance may fail in another. That alone should have been enough to entice me to test methodologies and refine my approach.
Yet, I was at a loss. Allie, as pragmatic as she was, held herself open to knowing me.
That frightened me.
Not because I feared her. I was afraid of myself. At least of what she would find as she uncovered who I was underneath the armor I presented the world. Perhaps the true terror would be uncovering that I was truly heartless. I’d worked so hard to prove my worth to the family, to my father, to the people who depended on my expertise, that I’d destroyed my ability to love.
Underneath all of that echoed the words I spit at my father. I regretted them, and they hung on my mind like weights. Or like a sword ready to slice through the fragile offer of hope I might be able to out maneuver my father. I’d be a fool not to grasp this opportunity.
If I were physically able to, that is.
Hiding my disability drained me. Yet pretending my wound didn’t hurt didn’t work on my new wife. She was too trained in physiology to ignore the silent ways I broadcast my pain.
“You need to rest,” she observed.
I studied her. “I need to know more about your sister, her itinerary, and her habits. It will help Loppa find her faster.”
“Only if you lie down. I will not have you straining yourself. Come on.” She held out a hand.
Such fine fingers. I marveled at their beauty, and strength. My wife was a delicate woman, yet not fragile. And, she was a stubborn soul. I let her pull me off my knees. She was gentle with me. Not doing much more than a tug, but offering a bent arm to lean on as we climbed the grand staircase in my father’s home. Loppa trailed behind in the shadows, aware of our location, but providing an illusion of privacy.
One Allie saw through. She addressed him. “Come on, I’m not repeating myself, nor letting him out of my sight.”
Loppa grinned and took a chair by the door as Allie laid out the plans she’d set for her sister’s honeymoon.
They were impressive. She’d accommodated for nearly everything and created contingencies to meet her sister’s tastes and mercurial moods. I could use someone like her on logistics.
What was I thinking?
Surely, she’d run to the hills, or the authorities if she knew my real profession. It was one thing to be part of a global operation, but fully another to be their sinister weapon when traditional methods failed.
I counted the carved squares in the ceiling as she spelled out everything Loppa needed to know about the sudden plan changes her sister might make. Once she finished, I reminded him of what was at stake.
“This man she’s with must not harm her. Understood?”
