27. The Death of Me
CHAPTER 27
THE DEATH OF ME
R affaele
This pezzo di merda is going to die an excruciating death if he doesn’t stop eye-fucking my client. I stand beside Isabella as the eager professore regales the interns about his thrilling new research project on immunotherapy. She watches him mesmerized, as if every word that falls from his mouth is pure gold. If he’s such a damned good doctor, why isn’t he a practicing physician?
“Ah, there you are, Carlo.” The professor pivots his gaze to the young man approaching from my right.
I’d caught a glimpse of him an instant before from my peripheral. He doesn’t look familiar which has my hackles raised. He’s not from the medical internship program, and he’s not on staff at the Policlinico , so who the hell is he?
“Students, I’d like you to meet my new assistant, Carlo Piemonte. He went through the same program at the hospital a few years ago.”
The guy looks like he could be Massimo’s younger brother with the same trendy wire-rimmed glasses and conservative button-down shirt and skinny jeans. Only where the professor has dark golden hair, his assistant’s is a shade lighter. The young man is also a little taller with a slighter build. I yank my phone out of my pocket and shoot off a text message to Aldo with the guy’s name. I need a background check ASAP. If Isabella will be spending time with Massimo, then his assistant must be cleared as well.
As all the students exchange pleasantries with the newcomer, the hair on the back of my neck prickles when he reaches his hand out to Isabella. “ Piacere . A pleasure to meet you.” Luckily, the contact is brief. Maybe because I’m glaring at the coglione , and he has an ounce of sense, unlike his mentor. “I hope your stay at the pensione was okay?”
“Oh, yes, thank you for arranging that, Carlo.” Isabella gives him a sweet smile, the one she reserves for strangers in polite conversation. It’s guarded and doesn’t quite meet her eyes.
Thankfully, Carlo moves on to the next intern, and his arrival has put an end to the professor’s monologue about malignant melanoma. Isabella’s eyes flicker to mine as I watch the lanky assistant move through the crowd of students to join his mentor, Massimo.
“What’s so funny?” she whispers.
“Nothing. I’m smiling because I’m glad it’s over.”
“Massimo’s speech might be over, but the night has just begun.” She lifts her flute of prosecco and clinks it against my sparkling water.
“As long as there are no more rousing speeches on the efficacy of the professor’s novel immunotherapy in treating advanced melanoma, I suppose I could tolerate this get together a little longer.”
“Don’t be an ass,” she growls under her breath. “That’s important research he’s conducting.”
“I’m not saying it isn’t, but does he really have to brag about it for over thirty minutes?”
A grin ghosts over her lips, and despite her best efforts, I coax out a smile. “It’s interesting…”
“If you say so, principessa .”
With an eyeroll that has my palm twitching, she gulps down the remainder of the prosecco and turns toward the bar. “I’m getting another.”
“Do you think that’s wise after last time?”
Her cheeks blush a tempting crimson, and my cock stands at attention at the hypnotic sight. I can’t help my thoughts from wandering back to the night at the hotel, to the flush of her skin, to the curve of her lips, and to the stars that danced across her brilliant sapphire eyes as she came.
“Probably not,” she counters, “but this time, I’m sure I’ll find a willing participant.” Her lips slide into a feral grin. She’s provoking me, and I know it. But I’m too mesmerized by those pouty lips and sparkling eyes to stop myself.
I lean closer, so close, my nose brushes the shell of her ear. “You know very well I would have been willing if the circumstances were different.”
Her eyes meet mine, darkening and defiant. “But nothing has changed, has it?”
I grind my molars, clenching my jaw before I snap the hair tie around my wrist. “No,” I grit out. “I am your guard, and you are my client. If I am to work at the highest level of my ability, the lines must remain between us. My duty above all else is to keep you safe.”
“Then I’ll just have to find someone else to see to my other needs.” She spins away, swaying that ass so provocatively that I’m biting my tongue to keep from running after her.
Fuck, there’s nothing I want more than to be the one to satisfy her needs. I dream about sinking my cock into her pussy nearly every night now that we’re under the same roof. I’d never admit to her how many evenings I spend lingering at our adjoining door just listening to her soft breaths as she sleeps.
Worst, it’s becoming more than just a physical need. I’ve always been possessive over my clients, but what I feel for Isabella goes above and beyond. I don’t even know how it’s possible since she drives me insane, and most of the time I can’t decide what I want more –to kiss or strangle her.
I watch her every movement at the bar, every twitch of her lips as the bartender tries to flirt. The girl is gorgeous, no doubt about that, but it’s the air of confidence coupled with a touch of naivety and her refreshing youth that makes her truly attractive.
One of the other interns moves toward her, the blonde guy from NYU she frequently chats with. Jeff. He’s just gathering his nerve to ask her out, I can feel it. Time to put an end to that.
I stalk up to the bar, downing the rest of my water so at least I have a reason to be there. Not that I need one. I’m her damned guard, right? Standing at the far end of the counter, I order another water and keep one eye on Isabella and Jeff.
She’s fucking giggling. The guy is not funny. I’ve listened in on enough of their conversations to be certain of that. Damn it, is Isabella that desperate to get laid or does she really like this guy?
I’m not sure I want to know the answer.
Movement across my peripheral catches my eye and I drop my drink, twisting my head over my shoulder. A shadow slides behind the bushes of oleander that encircle the outside terrace. It could be one of the wait staff, or even a patron taking a piss outside to avoid the long lines of the bathroom. Or…
I press a finger to the com at my ear. “Alberto, do you have eyes on the east side of the building?”
“I can’t see anything from where I am, but I’ll move closer.”
The hair at my nape prickles, and I reach for the gun at my hip as I move beside Isabella. My pulse quickens, my breaths instinctively coming faster. I find that practiced calm and draw in a steadying breath. Cool, collected and in control.
“Right, Raf?” Isabella’s voice cracks my self-imposed composure.
With one eye still on the periphery, I turn to face her. “What?” I snap.
Her brows knit, a hint of hurt flashing at my brusque tone, but I can’t explain myself right now. “I was just telling Jeff that the view from the rooftop of my apartment is the best in the city.”
I grind my teeth together to keep from biting her head off. There could be a dangerous situation in the making, and she’s still worried about getting laid. “Yes,” I hiss.
“I’d love to come by and see it.” A smarmy smile crawls across Jeff’s face, and I clench my fingers into a fist, nails cutting into my palm to keep the string of curses from seeping out.
“Tonight probably wouldn’t be the best night, right, Isabella? You have that date with Massimo tomorrow. You don’t want to be up too late and keep your professor waiting.” I offer the guy a shit-eating grin.
Isabella glares up at me, sky-blue eyes shooting daggers. It’s not my job to help her get laid, and I don’t feel even a tiny bit badly about that cock-block. She whirls at Jeff, shaking her head. “It’s not a date. Massimo offered to take me on a tour of the city. And we’re not going until later in the afternoon so you’re more than welcome--”
That sixth sense, the one I’ve honed over the years sends alarm bells ringing. My head swings to the right an instant before I see it. The muzzle of a rifle peeking through the foliage of the deadly oleander.
“Get down!” I shout as I lunge for Isabella.
A loud, piercing bang cuts through the chatter the instant we hit the ground. I cover her body with my own, draping myself over her so that not an inch remains exposed.
“Are you okay?” I whisper-shout over the chaos.
“Yes,” she breathes.
Confusion clouds the air as a second shot rings out, more distinct this time. Panic ensues. People scream and duck under tables, glasses shatter on the ground, and chairs are toppled as everyone scrambles for cover. The music that filled the air with rhythmic beats is abruptly silenced, replaced by the chaotic sounds of a crowd in terror.
“I’m going to get you out of here. Just stay calm,” I shout over the commotion.
“Okay.”
I drag her closer to the bar, positioning her against the impenetrable brick. Once I’m certain she’s safe, I pull my gun out and point it around the corner. I can just make out a figure behind the bushes. The bullets continue to whiz through the air, a steady chorus beneath the screams and cries.
Pressing my finger to the com again, I shout, “What the fuck is happening out there, Alberto? Put this bastardo down.”
“Sorry, capo, we couldn’t get around?—”
“I don’t want excuses, I want the asshole dead.”
“On it.”
“Raf!” Isabella’s cry sends my heart leaping up my throat. I spin around and see her crawling out into the open.
“What the hell are you doing?” I lunge for her and jerk her back a second before another bullet speeds by.
“Jeff’s been hit.” She points at the intern huddled beneath a table, his hand pressed to his stomach. “We have to help him.”
“You aren’t going anywhere until the shooter is down,” I growl.
“But I can help him!”
“And die in the process? Fuck no.”
“Then come with me!”
“What good am I to you, if I’m dead, too?”
“Raf, please! I can’t just leave him there.” Her eyes are wide, pleading, and fuck me, I can’t say no.
“ Cazzo , Isabella, you really are going to be the death of me.”