Chapter 14
Rowan sat slouched in his car, a baseball cap pulled low over his brow.
Enzo had given him the address of the meeting, but it was his own idea to look for the nearest park.
Tamra was a creature of habit, always taking the baby to swing after lunch when the weather allowed, and his certainty in her appearance increased as the sun broke through the clouds.
She has to come here. She has to. Or else I don’t know what I will do.
His eyes scanned the playground for Tamra’s familiar form. Here they would have a chance to talk. He could reason with her. A shady meeting with a stolen art broker was destined to end badly, with someone getting hurt, or maybe worse. He turned to the clock. Less than an hour remained.
Damn it, Gianni. Why’d you have to do this shit?
Rowan closed his eyes and rubbed his temples. If Tamra and Gianni wanted to run off together, why not just do it? Why did they have to fake her kidnapping and steal the one painting on earth he’d been assigned to protect?
He raised his head and saw them, Tamra in a long red coat carrying little Anthony in her arms. She wore big black sunglasses and a knit hat that was too warm for the weather. The woman and boy headed straight for the swings, Anthony’s joy evident as he smiled and clapped his hands.
Rowan smiled broadly and fought a wave of emotion as he watched Anthony play. Relief and love poured through Rowan, constricting his throat.
Anthony is okay.
Tamra is okay.
Now he just needed Becky to be okay, too. That was all that mattered. The painting, the theft, the kidnapping—all of it paled in comparison to the wellbeing of these people.
He swiped at his eyes and opened his door, slipping on a pair of aviator sunglasses and crossing into the park. Only when he stood directly behind her did he remove them. “Tamra.”
She jumped. “Oh, my God…”
“It’s all right. I’m not going to hurt you.”
“Da!”
He smiled at Anthony, genuine love radiating from his smile. “You want to come up?”
The baby gurgled with delight and held out his hands to Rowan.
Tamra looked like she was going to be sick.
He settled the baby against his hip, aware of just how lucky he was to be doing so. He turned to Tamra. “You faked your own kidnapping. Do you know how worried I’ve been? The hell you put me through?”
“I had no choice.”
“Bullshit. You had every choice, right from the beginning. You could have told the truth when you got pregnant. You could have married Gianni instead of lying to me.”
“How did you know?”
“It doesn’t matter. You convinced me I had a son, and then you snatched him away. Do you know what that did to me, Tamra? Do you even care?”
She frowned severely. “I wanted to marry Gianni, more than anything, but Enzo refused to allow it.”
“Tamra, you’re a grown woman! Why do you bow to him like that?”
A sob escaped and she covered her mouth, the anguish on her face more real than any emotion Rowan had ever seen there. “Because he was blackmailing Gianni.”
“What does he have to hide?” Rowan had never cared much for the man personally, but Gianni was an Interpol agent. Professionally he was a saint.
“I can’t…”
“Tell me.” Just then, Anthony reached up and put one hand on each of Rowan’s cheeks, and smiled at him.
The boy was so beautiful, such an incredible kid, and Rowan was completely moved.
He wanted Anthony to grow up with a mother and a father.
He wanted the boy to be happy, even if it was not with him.
“Tell me, Tamra, or I can’t help you.”
“Help me?”
He nodded. “If I can.”
She took a shuddering breath. “Gianni used his position with Interpol to sell stolen goods for Leonardo Depaoli.”
Rowan jerked his head back. “Why would he do that?”
“Gianni’s mother was Leonardo’s housekeeper. She died when Gianni was young, and Leonardo never had any children of his own so he raised Gianni himself. He and Leonardo are family now.” She smiled through her tears.
“And your father hates Leonardo because they’re rivals in the stolen art trade.”
“No,” she whispered, “Enzo hates Leonardo because my mother loved him first.”
Baby Anthony opened his arms and leaned toward his mother, who took him back from Rowan.
She moved from side to side, swaying. “My mother was a painter. She was very good, especially at copying things. Even as a teenager should could produce forgeries of outstanding caliber. Leonardo wanted her to use her talents for profit.”
“To steal the real ones.”
She nodded. “But my mother wouldn’t do it. That’s what split them apart. My father was waiting in the wings. He and Leonardo were schoolmates.”
“You’re kidding.”
“As close as brothers, once. They always loved the same things, my mother and stealing paintings. But only one of them could have both.”
“Enzo couldn’t let you be with Gianni, because Leonardo would win.”
“Exactly.”
The pieces were falling into place. All except one. “Why me?”
“Because Enzo could control you. He set you up, got you to steal The Lady in the Long Blue Dress, even murder a security guard, and he got it on tape. What better son-in-law could he ask for?”
“Tamra, I work for the FBI. Enzo can’t control me.”
Her eyes widened with fear. “What I said about Gianni…”
He raised his hands. “It’s okay. I’m not after him.”
Tamra leaned forward and covered her mouth with her hand. For the first time, he was able to see her not as some manipulator, but as a victim of her father’s determination to control her life. A plan began to form in his mind.
“Is Gianni good to you?”
She nodded. “Yes.”
“And to the baby?”
“Oh yes, the few times they’ve seen each other. He can’t wait to be a real father to Anthony.” She touched his sleeve. “Rowan, you can’t know how sorry I am for everything I have done to you.”
He nodded. For that moment he did know, did understand. They weren’t that different, he and Tamra, each of them in love and willing to do whatever was necessary to protect the other person. “I need your help, Tamra.”
“Anything.”
He took a breath and exhaled it, meeting her eyes head-on. “Give me the Madonna Fornirà.”
Her eyes widened. “But we need the money to start a new life.”
“Do you trust me?”
She stared at him for long moments, then checked her watch. “I don’t have it with me, it’s in a storage facility in Boston.”
“I thought you were selling it today?”
“Just a negotiation meeting. Gianni thought we shouldn’t have it with us, just in case.” She sighed heavily. “But I’ll give it to you, Rowan.”
Becky’s traitorous stomach growled loudly, and she wrapped her arm around her midsection.
Cosmo laughed, making his belly shake. “You should eat your breakfast.”
She didn’t answer.
He was tall and muscular, with dark hair and comically heavy eyebrows. He had stood in stark contrast to Enzo when the older man introduced them, Enzo in a suit and tie, Cosmo in jeans and a polo shirt. “He’s my bodyguard.” Enzo had said. “I’ll feel better if he stays with you.”
She’d reluctantly agreed, more shell-shocked from Enzo’s revelations about Rowan than anything. But now that she and Cosmo had spent some quality time together, Becky was wishing she had opted to go it alone.
Better yet, she wished she was home.
“Do you have a car?” she asked.
He picked up his bagel and lox with wide, dirty fingers and took a bite. “Nope,” he said with his mouth full, and Becky silently swore to improve her own table manners.
“Then I’ll call a cab.”
“Where are you going?”
“To the train station, or bus station or something. Home.”
He took a big sip from a large take-out cup, rocking back in his chair. “Mr. de Toffoli wanted you to wait for him.”
“I know, but that’s stupid. I just want to get out of here.” She dug in a side table and found a phone book, flipping to the yellow pages and searching for a taxi.
The front legs of Cosmo’s chair hit the ground. “I’m afraid you can’t do that.”
“Sure I can.” She pointed to the open phone book. “There’s one right here.”
“You’re not understanding me. You need to stay with here until Enzo comes back.”
She looked left, then right. “Or…?”
He walked toward her, picked up the hotel phone and yanked the cord from the wall. “There’s no ‘or.’ You stay with me. Give me your cell phone.”
“What, you’re like, holding me hostage?”
“Either give me your cell phone, or I will find it.” He raised one heavy brow.
Becky swallowed, reached into her pocket and handed him her phone. “When is Enzo coming back?” she asked.
“Don’t know. You should make yourself comfortable. We could play cards.”
“Seriously? You’re holding me here against my will, and you want to play Crazy Eights?”
He shrugged. “Suit yourself.”
She walked to the window, remembering how Rowan had stood here just hours before, nearly naked and drinking scotch. Last night had been her ultimate high, the happiest she had ever been. Today was like it’s polar opposite.
Rowan killed a man.
She took a deep breath, letting her eyes wander over the picturesque village. If she hadn’t seen it with her own eyes—Rowan firing the gun, the uniformed security guard clutching his chest as he fell to the ground in a heap—she never would have believed him capable.
Just goes to show how well you know the man.
Being a burglar was a poor career choice. But a murderer? She couldn’t love a murderer, wouldn’t allow a man like that to stay in her life, even if that life felt totally empty without him.
That’s what it’s going to be like from now on, isn’t it?
Her life would forever be broken into two pieces, before and after, whole and incomplete, the happy-go-lucky single girl and the miserable old spinster. She couldn’t imagine going back to the way she used to live her life, date after date, man after man. She had no desire to do that again.
So then, what? Buy a creepy house on a hill and start adopting stray animals?
There was only one thing she knew for sure, and that was Rowan Mitchell was the first and last man she would ever love, if only because she would never allow anyone else this close again. Only people who were allowed this close could do this kind of damage.
Rowan.
An image of his handsome face appeared in her mind, and she allowed herself the luxury of examining it.
The slightest cleft in his strong chin, the warm honey brown of his skin.
She wanted to cry when she realized her heart was singing with love, no matter that her head kept screaming at it to stop.
This is what I’m going to be thinking about, up on that hill with all those damn cats.
A dull ache settled at the base of her skull. Cosmo belched, and her eyes found him in the image reflected in the window. What would happen if she just walked past him to the door? Didn’t she at least have to try?
The ringing of Cosmo’s cell phone interrupted her thoughts. He answered it, saying little, then hung up and smiled at her. “Time to go, carrot top.”
She scowled at him. “Where?”
He raised his eyebrows and smiled like a child. “Skiing.”