She waited. He kept pacing, reminding her of a tiger locked in a too-small cage. “Man.”
His eyes locked on to her. Like a target. It should have been uncomfortable, but that gaze only held a deep emotion that set her heart pounding. A smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. “Woman.”
“Spit it out,” she ordered.
“You won’t like it.”
She raised one eyebrow.
“I don’t like it.”
“You’re most likely wrong. We’re only guessing,” she reminded him.
“I don’t think I’m wrong. You’ve got enough crap to contend with. I should just keep this particular speculation to myself.”
“Samuele Lorenzo Rossi.” She called him by the full name he’d given her on his employment record, the one she couldn’t find anywhere on the internet.
He winced visibly. “Only my mother called me that when she was really upset with me and I was in trouble. Mostly between the ages of two to seventeen.”
“That’s your actual name? And the real spelling?”
“Yes. Why would I lie to you? I knew I was staying. I told you. The minute I laid eyes on you, I knew you were the one. I checked to make sure you weren’t taken and then I set out to win you. Pay attention, Satine.”
She rolled her eyes. “Why couldn’t I find you on the internet? You should be there, at least your earlier life with your father.”
“Type of work I did, didn’t want anything leading back to my family.”
That made sense. “I am not letting you distract me, as charming as I find you, especially knowing your mother used your full name to chastise you. What is your theory of why the serial killer might be stalking me if he doesn’t know anything about my past?”
Sam sighed and once more came to the side of the bed and sank down, his weight shifting the mattress so she nearly tumbled into him. He put his arm around her to steady her, or offer comfort, she wasn’t certain which. Now, she braced herself, wondering if it had been such a good idea to insist on knowing his theory, especially since he really didn’t want to tell her, which meant he was reasonably sure he was right.
“This man has met you, Stella. He doesn’t have to know you very well. He could have met you in passing. You don’t realize it, but you’re considered somewhat of royalty down in town. There are businesses thriving because of you. That means jobs. You don’t notice, but you go into a restaurant and you’re seated right away. Others have to wait. You don’t have to pay. The owner waves off your money because you saved his ass when he was going under. Now he’s making it through the winter with cash to spare.”
His assessment of her embarrassed her. She had saved a struggling fishing camp. When she’d taken over management, the place was going under, and every single cabin, RV and fishing camp, dock and piece of equipment was in desperate need of repair. The owner had money, but he was tired and didn’t have the staff or the energy to keep his beloved business going. He had hired her as a last-ditch effort to keep his fishing camp open. It was Stella who had come up with the idea of a high-end resort and a first-class fishing tournament, two things that didn’t sound as if they would mesh at all. She got the locals on board and turned their businesses around right along with the one she was managing.
“He could be a temporary worker here or in town. He might have been one of the campers or a climber you talked to when you were out bouldering. You’re friendly, Stella. You talk to people. You make them feel like they matter. You get coffee when you’re in town and you stand in line and he could have stood in line next to you and talked to you. Obsession starts that way. Some stalkers fantasize they’re in a relationship with the one they’re obsessed with.”
Stella pressed a hand to her churning stomach. “Great. A serial killer might be fantasizing he has a relationship with me? That’s what you think?”
He nodded slowly. “That’s why you felt him at the campsite and in town. That’s why he’s out here some nights. He could have been trying to get into the house to get a few of your things to take home with him to feed his illusion.”
By now, she could tell, whoever had been outside was gone. It didn’t matter. The idea that Sam might be right was repulsive. “I don’t want to think about this anymore, Sam.” She wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled his head down to hers. “Just kiss me.”
Kissing Sam was never enough. He slid her under him and then the world disappeared until there was only the two of them and she couldn’t think, only feel, because Sam had a way of setting her world on fire.