Chapter 9
Rav
I guided our small Audi SUV through a final turn on the winding coastal road, the weathered villa coming into view ahead of us.
Beside me, Scarlett lowered her phone. “Brie’s got the team in Halifax on standby for comms checks once we’re inside.”
“Good.” I glanced in the rearview mirror to ensure Malcolm was paying attention and not still brooding about being relegated to the backseat with Emmett. Behind us, Zac’s vehicle followed close behind with the rest of the team.
We’d said goodbye to Percival at the airport, so he could travel on his own and not bring attention to us. Brooke’s reluctance to stay with us—with me—had been evident in the tight set of her shoulders.
The villa sat on elevated ground beside an olive grove, its faded rose-colored exterior contrasting with the rich green foliage surrounding it.
A pair of wrought-iron gates stood open, framing a small stone courtyard.
I pulled to the side of the road, absorbing the advantages of the location.
High degree of visibility in all directions, elevated position, and limited approach routes. One road in and out.
“Not bad,” Malcolm murmured as we stepped out. “Private, defensible.”
I nodded, taking in the arched doorway and stucco walls with enough chips missing to give it character, but not enough to be run-down. The November air was mild, carrying the subtle scent of the nearby olive trees and the sea, barely five hundred feet from us.
The villa’s door opened, and a tall, dark-haired man stepped out to greet us. He moved with effortless confidence, dark eyes bright with interest as he took in our group.
“Benvenuti!” He approached Scarlett, who was in the lead as always.
His smile widened. “Tell me you are the Scarlett Reynolds my cousin spoke of.” He leaned in to kiss Scarlett’s cheeks in the traditional Italian greeting, his hand lingering on her arm as he pulled away. “He failed to express your beauty.”
Malcolm stepped forward immediately, hand jutting out.
Mario’s smile didn’t falter.
“Malcolm Sharpe,” he said, his voice carrying a subtle edge. “Scarlett’s fiancé.”
“Ah!” Mario’s free hand flew to his heart. “You are a very lucky man to have such a beautiful fiancée.”
The crowd from the second vehicle approached, and Mario’s attention fell to Jayce. Before kissing her cheeks, he said, “And who is this stunning creature?”
“Jayce.” She snorted a laugh, clearly amused. As Mario let go of her, she hooked a thumb over her shoulder. “And the grumpy one behind me’s my boyfriend, so watch yourself.”
Drew offered a handshake and an almost-smile, likely at Jayce’s description of him. The former spy didn’t wear his heart on his sleeve like Malcolm did. “Drew Donovan.”
“Mi scusi.” Mario’s eyes flickered between them, nodding appreciatively. “But you are another lucky man.”
“That’s what she keeps telling me,” Drew said before returning to the vehicle for their bags.
“But you…” Mario turned his gaze to Brooke, who stood slightly apart from the others. He took her hand in his and tilted his head. “You are the serious one.”
“I’m the scientist,” she said simply.
“In that case…” His slimy smirk slid up a notch, and he gave a slight bow. Still holding her fucking hand. “Dr. Mario De Luca, Pompeii archaeological team, at your service. I feel we will have much to discuss.”
A hand landed on my chest.
I looked down at Scarlett, who was smiling politely at the introductions, but she’d put her hand out to stop me.
I hadn’t even realized I’d moved.
Hadn’t noticed the surge of irritation rising at his easy charm. But Scarlett had.
Before I could say—or do—anything I might regret, Brooke gently withdrew her hand. Mario continued his introductions with the men, ending with me.
“Rav LaPierre,” I said, offering my hand. “Security.”
“Security?” Mario nodded, his smile irritatingly warm. “The villa is well-positioned, no? You’ll appreciate the terrace atop the main house.”
“Please come inside,” Mario gestured through the courtyard and toward the open door. “I’ll show you my home before the light fades. The view is something special this time of day.”
The interior was calm and welcoming, with terracotta tiles smooth beneath our feet.
The space opened into a kitchen with an L-shaped wooden counter and open shelves lined with colorful ceramics.
Through the decorative glass panels in the back doors, I spotted a pergola-covered garden with lemon trees.
“The house has been in my family for generations,” Mario explained as he strolled through the ground floor. “The olive grove you passed belongs to us as well. And while we have a few neighbors, they won’t be interested in observing comings and goings.”
“How are you so sure?” I asked.
“They’re nuns.” Mario waved a hand, indicating somewhere outside his home. “The church up the road has a residence for them, and they keep people honest.”
He showed us a study that would serve as our operations center, then guided us toward the staircase that wound around an old-fashioned elevator. I automatically fell to the back of the group, keeping my eye on our tour guide, who kept too close an eye on Brooke.
The third floor opened into a wide hallway with doors leading to four bedrooms. “Up here, we have four bedrooms and two bathrooms. You are free to split these up as you see fit.”
Mario led us through each room, sharing highlights as though he were operating a bed-and-breakfast. When he opened the last one, revealing an expansive space with windows facing the bay and a private balcony on the other side, Scarlett finally spoke up.
“Brooke and I will take this one,” she said. “Drew and Jayce, you have the garden view. Emmett and Zac, the east room. Rav and Malcolm, the one with the small balcony. Everyone, get situated, and we’ll meet downstairs in fifteen to start setting up our base.”
I headed to my assigned room, tossing my bag onto the bed. The space was modest but comfortable, with a small balcony overlooking the hillside. The original plan had been for Malcolm and Scarlett to share a room, but with Brooke joining us, the plan had changed.
Fortunately, Malcolm and I were sharing a room with a king-sized bed.
After a quick assessment of the exits and sight lines, I headed back into the hallway to rejoin the others. As I rounded the corner from our room, I collided with Brooke coming from the opposite direction, my hands instinctively catching her upper arms to steady her.
“Sorry, I—” The words died in my throat as I stared down into her green eyes, her body mere inches from mine.
For a moment, we were frozen in place. My fingers tightened slightly against the soft material of her sweater, the sensation sending a jolt of memory through me—of helping her down from her bed in the FOB and holding her close.
Her hair had been longer, flowing freely around her shoulders.
She’d complained to me once that there wasn’t enough water available for the showers to get her hair fully clean, but she’d managed it.
‘This breaks about a dozen regulations,’ she’d said that evening.
‘Tell me to go,’ I’d said.
‘I don’t want you to.’
Something flickered in her eyes—recognition, remembrance, perhaps the same memory that had me rooted to the spot. Her lips parted slightly.
Just like they had that night in Afghanistan.
It would have been so easy to pull her closer instead of letting go. But I wasn’t that man anymore. I’d made my choice, no matter how much I could still taste her lips.
Her hands rose to push gently against my chest. Her voice was so quiet, I barely heard it. “Excuse me.”
I released her immediately, stepping aside. “My fault.”
She didn’t respond, just continued down the hallway toward the stairs, not looking back. Please look back. My heart raced with embarrassing speed, but she kept going, vanishing downstairs for the kitchen tour.
I stared after her. I needed distance. Space. Something that wasn’t Brooke McAllister. But my feet didn’t listen.
Until the distinctive clack of Scarlett’s stilettos snapped me out of whatever was jostling around in my head. I turned to find Scarlett and Malcolm emerging from the room she would be sharing with Brooke.
Before I thought better of it, I said, “This place has good cover, but we’ll need to establish regular patrols. I want you to stay close when we’re outside the villa.”
Scarlett stopped, one eyebrow raising slightly. “Noah’s not coming to steal me away.”
“How do you know?” I countered, lowering my voice. “I don’t want to take chances.”
Malcolm’s arm slid around Scarlett’s waist. “You still think it’s a trap?”
“It’s Noah,” I snapped. How could they question it?
Malcolm had been taken at gunpoint in New York, the same as Emmett. He’d backed up my decision to keep Scarlett home when the team went to Monaco in August. But now she was in the same city as the man who wanted her to become his right hand, and Malcolm wouldn’t support me?
“Fine,” I replied too quickly. “I’m just trying to establish protocols.”
“Rav,” she said, her tone gentle. “Malcolm’s got me. Don’t worry.”
No. Malcolm was a private investigator. He didn’t know personal protection as well as I did.
“Did Will put the tracker in your earring?” I asked.
Scarlett gave me a polite smile. If I’d looked down, no doubt I would have seen her scrunching her toes in her shoes to release her irritation. Not that I needed to see it to know her reaction.
So why couldn’t I stop myself?
“You’re deflecting,” she said, and continued past me to the stairs.
Malcolm patted me on the shoulder and made his way after Scarlett, wise enough to keep any retort to himself.
“I am not,” I muttered to no one before following my team downstairs.