She shifted her gaze, afraid he would see she was misleading him—which she was. “When we reached the street, he went around to the back of the car. He was talking to me and I just followed him, thinking my sweater was in the trunk. He opened it, still talking, acting so casual. The next thing I know, he’d thrown me into the trunk and slammed it closed, trapping me.” She’d been terrified, but a part of her had gone calm, thinking the reign of terror for her was finally over.
He reached for her hand as if he knew her heart was beating out of control at the memory. His thumb slid over her knuckles and then began to sweep back and forth lightly over the back of her hand. Each stroke felt like a caress and she felt her pulse flutter wildly. “Thank you for sharing that with me, Grace. I know it wasn’t easy. You’re safe now.”
There was that strange rush of heat moving through her body she was coming to associate with him. He made her feel extraordinary just for answering his question. It was his voice when he complimented her, brushing over her nerve endings like black velvet.
Grace couldn’t let him think everything was all right. She was misleading him, and that might make him think there was no danger. “I’m not. You’re not. He aimed that gun at you, the person trying to save his life, not the two men he was trading me to. He’s that far gone.” She closed her mouth abruptly and pressed her lips together, feeling nearly faint.
That was more than she’d ever told anyone about Haydon, and she’d only blurted it out because he already knew her foster brother had wanted to kill him. How did she explain Haydon to a man like Vittorio? The differences between them were so wide, Vittorio couldn’t possibly understand.
“What is it, gattina bella?” He brought her hand to his mouth and nibbled on her knuckles. All the while his blue eyes held hers. She loved his eyes. The way they commanded. Compelled. Once he locked on to her, she was totally captivated and couldn’t look away. The connection was intense, sometimes to the point of being uncomfortable, but it was because looking into his eyes made her feel as if he saw everything about her. Knew everything about her, strengths and weaknesses.
She hesitated. As children, in a violent foster home, Haydon and she had protected each other. Then, it became very real self-preservation not to ever speak of him to anyone. Ever. For any reason. A little shiver went through her body. She wished the morphine would kick in and hopefully she’d just fall asleep, but they had been slowly decreasing the pain medications in an effort to get her out of the hospital. It was extremely hard to sleep when pain beat at her constantly.
“You have to trust someone, Grace.”
Grace was desperate to look away from him. To close her eyes and slip back into sleep where she felt safe. She’d been in a cocoon for days and she wanted to remain there. Clarity brought reality and that was too much for her when she could barely move, barely take care of herself.
Silence filled the room and she detested that. Disappointment didn’t show on his face, but she felt it. It was as if the very shadows connected them and she could feel his emotions. He was disappointed that she couldn’t trust him. Or maybe he wasn’t disappointed and she was projecting her own feelings about herself onto him.
“Haydon isn’t like most people.” She couldn’t keep the tremor from her hand and she tried to pull it away from him, so he wouldn’t feel her shaking.
She hated that she was appearing so weak in front of him. She had a demanding job, one she excelled at. She had no problems seeing to every detail and finding the right people to get things done, but her personal life was just the opposite. She was a complete mess, out of control, unable to find a way to fix it. Even when she’d taken a stand, that had backfired.
Vittorio’s long fingers tightened around hers and his thumb stroked over the back of her hand as he pressed her palm over his heart. “Tell me why you’re so afraid of this man.”
No one knew she was afraid of Haydon. No one. Her boss thought they were close, like brother and sister. Most people thought the same thing. No one else had ever seen through her careful mask, not the social workers, foster parents or cops.
She shook her head, even as she tried to form the right words. There was no denying Vittorio when he looked at her that way. She didn’t want to disappoint him, and he needed to know he was still in danger, probably more than ever now.