Uncomfortably conscious of her body, she squared herself to him, as if this was a professional meeting, as if she wasn’t so exposed.
He didn’t answer, but he looked at her. She took this as invitation to continue.
“I understand Signor Calandra has agreements with Luca Errichiello,” she said.
He raised an eyebrow, and she continued: “Signor Errichiello is holding one of my friends. I’d like you to help me arrange for his release.”
“Why should I help you?” De Rosa asked.
Nikki trembled, a surge of rage overcoming the fear and heat.
“You fucking burned down my studio, that’s why.”
De Rosa’s expressionless stare raked her.
“That was not my doing,” he said.
Nikki opened her mouth to protest, but thought better of it. If he didn’t accept responsibility, she was in no position to force the matter.
“Tell me what you want from me,” she said.
“You’ll do what I ask?”
The heat nauseated her. She felt unsteady, a rush of blood in her ears, terror and sweat pouring from her skin. But her thoughts seemed to travel far away. They sought out Valerio, the easy movements of his body as he clambered overCalypso; the sense of having him beside her, of him joining her in the darkness of that cave as she grappled for her life, the ringing shot that saved her.
“Yes.”
“I thought you didn’t deal in favors,” said De Rosa.
Nikki’s heart slammed against her ribs. When she didn’t answer, he stood.
His eyes fixed on hers, body so close, they were almost touching. He seemed to be looking for something. She stared back, breathing in his exhalations.
“Follow me,” he said at last.
—
Sweating, body glowing with the heat, Nikki almost collapsed with relief as they exited into the relative coolness of the echoing antechamber. Beneath a steel showerhead, De Rosa pulled the lever. Water slammed down, soaking him.
De Rosa’s companion handed him a towel. He wiped his face and chest, and Nikki followed him through the spa and out a set of double doors. The noise of the water was abruptly cut, and they passed into a garden with a large pool, steam rising from the surface.
Wrapping the towel around his waist, De Rosa indicated for her to join him at a small table in the misting rain. She did this, and the cool air and rain, the cold chair, came as a relief.
Nikki watched as De Rosa looked out over the view.
“Luca Errichiello is an unscrupulous man,” he said after a long silence. “If your friend has gotten into trouble with him, I pity him.”
“Please,” Nikki said. “I need your help…if you could just make a call. Luca’s brother, Federico, said that Tito has agreements with him.”
He gestured. “That’s finished.”
There was a hard edge in his voice.
Then, as if he’d just heard what she said, he sat suddenly upright and looked at her. “You have contact with Errichiello’s brother?”
“Yes.”
“I thought he was dead.”
