Chapter 20
The crumpled evening gown was a tangle of red fabric on the bathroom floor. It was torn and dirty and spotted with Noah’s blood from when he ’d carried her.
Caro picked it up and tried to rinse out the worst of the bloodstains. She wanted it cleaned and mended. The dress was a keeper. Something to wear when guts and steely nerve w ere called for.
Their return to the hotel was more or less a blur. She’d been lucky that Noah still had the presence of mind to find his way through the Palazzo and the garden, and remember the complicated route he’d initially chosen to avoid being seen, because she sure hadn’t. The drive had involved a lot of small, bumpy roads through dark vineyards and fields before they hit ma in roads again.
The guy at the reception desk gave them a startled look as they’d passed. So what. Rough night, she felt like telling him. But she’d rest rained herself.
She’d been so grateful when the door of the suite had finally, miraculously closed behind them. Safe an d home. Oh yes.
The shower relaxed her a little, but she still felt jagged inside. Seeing Konig and Noah falling backwards. The end of her world, playing out in her head over and over.
Caro folded up the dress. She put on a hotel robe and made her way back into the bedroom where the TV was droning in Italian, set to local news. Noah wanted a widescreen look-and-listen with the latest buzz about the incident at the Palazzo Bellocchio as so on as it aired.
She opened her mouth to ask if he’d heard anything, and it stayed open.
Noah w as fast asleep.
Caro hardly dared to move. She’d never, ever seen Noah sleep. And this was true, normal sleep. His head thrown back, his body sprawled out, his mouth relaxed. His breathing was deep and even.
She felt a rush of tenderness so intense, it made her teary.
The TV station went to a commercial break and the jump in volume startled Noah back awake. His eyes popped open and he looked at her blearily for a moment. “Hey.”
“You’re sexy when you sleep, did you know that?” She leaned over and pressed a kiss to his lips, trailing her finger down over his jaw. His face was battered from the fighting he’d done, but it wasn’t swelling up. His fast-healing ge ne mod at work.
“Really? Great.” He yawned, and stretched lazily, then stopped short with a wince, rubbing his shoulder joint. “Ouch. That’s talking to me, and it’s not happy. But the rest of m e is doing OK.”
“You’re relaxing,” she said in a wondering vo ice. “Finally.”
“Yeah, I guess. Before that, I was refueling.”
The hotel had come through with an awesome assortment of food, considering the late hour. Judging by the stack of empty plates, Noah had been hard at it while she was in the shower, but he hadn’ t eaten it all.
“Help yourself.” He gestured toward the tray set up near the nightstand. “The food’s great.”
“Don’t mind if I do.” She popped a tiny ball of fresh mozzarella into her mouth while he poured her a glass of red wine. “It’s crazy,” she told him. “I thought I’d need to calm you down the usual way—”
“Wooh oo. Go for it.”
Lusty, too. Huh. Go figure. She ignored his invitation for the time being. They’d get back to that later. “Then I come in here and find you napping. Sno ring, no less.”
“Bullshit. No way was I snoring. Now you’re just fucking with me.” Noah selected a thick slice of caciocavallo cheese and devoured it, licki ng his fingers.
Caro climbed onto the bed and settled herself next to him cross-legged. “How is it that you’re so mellow al l of a sudden?”
He thought about it for a moment. “I’m just glad we’re both alive,” he said finally. “I burned all my paranoid energy up, I guess. There’s not enough left to stay tense.”
Caro gazed at him. Smiling like a fool. So head over heels in love with this guy, it was n’t even funny.
His eyes took on that focused, faraway look they got when he was reading her mind. “I love it when you do that,” he said softly.
“Do what? I’m just sitting here, chilling out. Feeling happy. Thinking about how awesome you are. How crazy I am about you.”
“Great,” he said. “K eep it coming.”
“Couldn’t stop if I tried.” Caro lifted his scabbed, scraped hand, examining his torn up knuckles. She bent down, careful to ki ss unhurt skin.
Her robe was gaping open. She glanced down, wiggling strategically. Grabbed a small bunch of red grapes, and slowly ate them. Took a sip of her wine. Licking her lips. Mak ing them gleam.
His cock had thickened and flushed with readiness. She gave him a dazzling smile and looked her fill. It got thicker. “Mmm. That looks delicious, too, ” she murmured.
“Uh…thanks.”
He looked so hopeful, she had to mess with him a little, just for the hell of it. Caro reached over to the rolling tray and snagged a zucchini flower stuffed with melted cheese and then batter fried. She savored it, moaning softly.
“Oh, yum,” she moa ned. “So good.”
He stared at her lips as she carefully set down the wine glass on the bedside table.
“And now that I’m fortified…I’m going to give you a long, juicy, lazy blowjob, ” she told him.
His expressions brightened. “Now you’re talking. Where d o you want me?”
She stretched against the pillows, arching to flaunt her breasts. “After all the mortal combat, I think you should just relax exactly as you are.” She rolled up onto her hands and knees and swayed over him, letting her hair drift teasingly over his thighs, and then over his thick, gorgeous cock as she pressed hot kisses to his belly. She reached down, cupping his balls . Gripping him.
He caught his breath, biting his lip. “Oh, man. Not fair.”
“Deal with it.”
“Hey—whoa. The news just came on. I can’t right now,” he said. “But please. Hold that thought. Don’t let i t go anywhere.”
Noah’s attention had been caught by the newscast. The Palazzo Bellocchio’s fa?ade filled the screen, still luridly lit up by police flashers and crime-scene floodlights. The image dwindled into a small box, and a buxom redhead with collagen-plumped lips took over, speaking in Italian. The only words Caro caught were “Palazzo Bellocchio” an d “terroristi.”
Noah listened intently to the redhead. Finally Caro nudged him with her bare foot. “Translate,” she u rged. “Please.”
“They’re saying an anonymous source revealed that Lella was brainwashed and radicalized while imprisoned in Africa,” he said. “Which is t otal bullshit.”
“And you know that for sure? How?”
“I just do,” he said. “The guy was modded up the wazoo. Massive brain stims and implants. And someone was pumping a bad freq into him at the end. But no one will ever know, because there’s nothing left to autopsy. Too bad they can’t question Konig. This whole thing must have been his idea. They shouldn’t be blaming Lella.”
“You have to tell Stefano all that.” Caro jerked up suddenly in the bed. “Hey! There’s Stefano now! Wha t’s he saying?”
Stefano had joined the redhead on the screen. He looked tired, even with makeup that didn’t quite conceal the facial cuts and bruises. The news anchor simpered, fluttering her ey elashes at him.
“He looks good on TV.” Caro slanted Noah a mea ningful glance.
“Yeah, he’s a real charmer,” No ah said sourly.
The redhead was talking, so Caro prodded him again. “Translation?”
“She’s asking how it feels to be a hero and find himself suddenly famous. From the looks of her, she’s probably massaging his dick under the table whil e she does it.”
“Just translate, please. Cut the snar ky commentary.”
“Stefano’s saying now that he doesn’t feel like a hero,” Noah said. “That he just did what anyone else wo uld have done.”
“Nice, standard rep ly,” Caro said.
“He’ll choke on it, thou gh,” Noah said.
“Huh? Wha t do you mean?”
“I know Stefano’s type. He’s a macho man. Taking credit for something I did will stick in his craw forever. He’ll be overcompensating for the res t of his life.”
“You sound way too pleased about that,” Caro said, trying not to smile. “What have you got ag ainst Stefano?”
“Nothing. I respect the guy. He kept his head on straight in a crisis. But this is gonna bite his ass. And I don’t mind.”
“Oh, shush.” She flapped her hand at him. “What’s he saying now?”
Noah listened. “That he had an instinct and had to act on it. He says he felt compelled. Goddamn right he was com pelled. By me.”
“Uh-huh.” Caro tried to figure out the rapid-fire Italian on her own, but no luck. Stefano and Red talk ed even faster.
“Now the redhead is gushing,” Noah went on. “Telling him he’s a national hero. That all of Italy is proud of him for staving off a terrorist attack, possibly the worst in recent history on European soil, b lah blah blah.”
Stefano looked intensely uncomfort able. Poor guy.
“You’re right,” Caro said. “He is suffering. Still, I bet this mak es his career.”
“Better him than me,” Noah said.
“You’re being awful,” she told him. “He d id us a solid.”
“We did him one, too. Like you said, he’s Italy’s favorite son.”
“Yes. He deserves it. You did the heavy lifting, but still, he’s got what it takes.”
Noah was elo quently silent.
Caro gave him a sidewise glance. “Of course, nothing like you,” she added demurely. “But it’s unfair to compare him to you. It’s unfair to compare anyone to you.”
“Quit it,” he growled. “My ego isn’t that fragile.”
“Sorry,” she murmured. “But since you won’t accept being celebrated as an international hero, will you consider a consolation prize? Say, for instance, having your cock licked, sucked, and played with for hours. Until I climb on top of you and take you inside me. And then just ride you while you go crazy, bucking underneath me. Until we both com e…really hard.”
“Yes,” he said swiftly. “To everythi ng. You’re on.”
* * * *
Buzzz. Buzzz. Noah’s smartphone vibrated on the bedside table.
Noah made a sleepy sound of dismay and rolled away from Caro, staring at the thing. “Damn,” he muttered. “Should have turned it off.”
Caro propped herself up onto her elbow and looked at the buzzing phone. “You should see who’s calling, at least,” she said. “You don’t h ave to answer.”
Noah reached for the phone and studied the display. “Unknown nu mber,” he said.
Bu zz. Buzz. Buzz.
“Answer it,” Caro urged. “I’ d rather know.”
He tapped Talk. “Chi é?” He listened for a moment. “Stefano,” he said, g lancing at her.
Noah swung his legs over the bed and sat up, hunching over as Stefano talked. Noah responded in Italian and they talked for a while, her own name frequently in the mix. It sounded like Stefano was coaxing him, and that Noah was resisting.
Finally, his eyes met hers. “Fine,” he said into the phone, switching to English. “I’ll pass you to her and you can ask her yourself. But first, about Lella. He wasn’t a traitor. Someone implanted stuff in his brain. He fought it really hard in the end, and that’s why we ’re all alive.”
He looked over at Caro, who only nodded. Listening in. Trying to look l ike she wasn’t.
“So,” Noah went on, “don’t blame him, and don’t let anyone else blame him. Konig’s your man. The one on the bull’s horns. Good luck figuring out what his game was. But if you want to find the real Cross of Orazio, you shoul d start there.”
A burst of impassioned words from Stefano. Noah frowned. “Yeah, but he didn’t act alone. The people who messed with Lella will be after you next, so watch your back.” He listened again. “I know, and I will. But I do not want to be seen with you under any circumstances. You’re way too fucking famous. Hold o n…here she is.”
Noah handed her the phone.
“Me?” Caro was startled. “Why the hell does he want to talk to me?”
Noah just shook his head, holding out the phone. “He’ll tel l you himself.”
She took the phone reluctantly. “ Ciao , Stefano,” she said. “You look good on television.”
“It is extremely embarrassing,” Stefano muttered. “Please do not speak of that. It is a very uncomfortable position you h ave put me in.”
“You mean, bein g still alive?”
Stefano let out a grudging laugh. “Point taken. I have a favor to ask of you, Mrs. Gallagher. On behalf of the Itali an government.”
“What could I possibly do for the Itali an government?”
“Let me explain. A trove of paintings lost for decades was recently discovered near Venice. They had been hidden from art looters after World War II, and those who hid them were killed. There are works by Raphael, Vermeer, Goya, possibly a Rembrandt. At the moment, none are fully authenticated. The consulting experts disagree on certain imp ortant points.”
“That sounds fascinating, but I still don ’t understand.”
“I would be deeply grateful if you would come to Venice and look at them,” Stefano said. “I value your opinion. More than any of the others.”
Caro was at a complete loss for words.
“Of course, you will be generously compensated for your time and expertise.”
“It’s not that,” Caro said. “Stefano, I have no formal credentials as an art critic or authenticator, so I don’t know if I can actually—”
He interrupted her. “I understand that you need time to recover from the shock of last night.”
“That’s not what I was going to say, Stefano.”
“No? But please. I urge you to consider it. As a p ersonal favor.”
“Ah—yes,” she stammered. “I suppose I could consider it. Although—”
“Thank you. Forgive me for interrupting your evening. Arrivederci, M rs. Gallagher.”
“ Arrivederc i, ” she echoed.
Caro set aside the phone and sank down on the bed again, rolling over to face Noah. “He wants me to authenticate priceless art that was hidden from the Nazis,” she said, bemused.
Noah just blinked at her. “No fucking shit,” he said evenly.
“His timing is…well . Interesting.”
“I’ll say,” Noah said, with feel ing. “And? So?”
Caro hesitated for a long moment. “I think,” she said carefully, “that we should discuss this much, much later. After we’ve b oth recovered.”
Noah made a scoffing sound. “Recovered, my ass. Hah. Don’t hol d your breath.”
She stroked his hair. Smiling at him. It seemed to ma ke him nervous.
“Should I be worried?” Noah demanded.
“No,” she whispered. “Don’t worry. I like you mellow. Stay mellow.” She gazed into his gorgeous amber eyes. “I almost lost you tonight. Scared me o ut of my wits.”
“Me too.”
“I love you, Noah Gallagher,” she announced.
He pulled her closer. “I love you too,” he said, h is voice rough.
“I just found you,” she said. “And I’m keeping you. I know we both said ‘til death do us part.’ But I don’t want to hear about being parted. Not for a long, long tim e. Understand?”
His white teeth flashed in a big, delighted gri n. “Perfectly.”
“Good,” she said. “So let me tell you how it’s going to be. For the next few days, we’re not going anywhere. Not for any reason. We’ll sleep, loll in bed, order room service ten times a day if we want to. We’ll take long, hot baths. Give each other sexy massages. That kind of thing. Super mellow.”
Noah’s eyebrow tilted up, hopeful and exp ectant. “And…?”
Caro sat up, rolled over. Flung her leg over Noah’s muscular thighs and wiggled forward. She gripped his stiff, thick cock. Squeezi ng it tenderly.
“All I want right now is to be really, really close to you,” she whispered.
Noah sat up, embracing her. He kissed her with hungry urgency.
“I’m counting on it, babe,” he said aga inst her mouth.
If you liked Light me Up , keep reading for a peek at the first three full length Obsidian Files books, Right Through Me , My Next Breath , and In My Skin , all available now!
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