"What's wrong with it?" Images of some horrendous natural disaster layered over a visceral fear of heights.
"Not a bloody thing. It's quite gorgeous, don't you think? It isn't every day you watch the dawn break over the Italian Alps. Next time we have a little time we should spend a few days out here."
"Fine, great. Terrific. As long as it's on the ground. I will not look down, I will not look down, I will not look down."
And of course she did, felt her head spin in the opposite direction of her belly. "Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Are we there yet?"
"Nearly. You can see the lake, and the first sunlight just sliding over the water."
That only made her think of the horrors of an emergency water landing. "That's the place?"
"That's it."
She saw the pink and white stone of the old estate, the spread of grass and gardens, the blue gems that were pools and fountains. Instead of seeing beauty, she saw the finish line.
"At least that putz Captain Giamanno's on his way. I'm looking forward to biting out his throat once the formalities are over."
"This is not America," Roarke said in a dead-on mimic.
Eve grinned at him. "You're all right, Roarke."
"Remember you said that." And he sent the copter into a steep drop, chuckled over his wife's thin scream as he touched down onto the helipad. "That got the blood moving."
"I so completely hate you right now."
"I know, but you'll get over it." He shut down the engines. "Smell that air. Lovely. You can still smell the night-blooming jasmine on it."
She managed to jump out, with some semblance of dignity, then gave up, bent from the waist, and waited to get her breath back.
"Lieutenant Dallas?" Eve stayed down as the footsteps approached, then stared at the sharp black shoes as she felt her system settle.
"Yeah? You Signorina Vincenti?"
"Yes, I am. Are you all right, Lieutenant?"
"Yeah." She straightened. "Just getting my wind back. Captain Giamanno?"
"Has not yet arrived. Your instructions were followed. Immediately after we ended our conversation, I contacted security. A man was sent up to guard Signorina Dunne's door. He remains there, as you directed. No one has come out or gone in."
"Good. I'm not going to wait for the local badge. I'll take her as quickly and quietly as I can."
"That would be appreciated. Our guests, well..." She spread her hands. "We wouldn't wish to upset anyone. Signore." She offered a hand to Roarke. "I welcome you back to the villa, despite the circumstances. I hope you and the lieutenant will let me know of any way I can assist you."
"You did very well, signorina. I won't forget it."
"Okay," said Eve. "Tell your security I'm coming in. I want men on that floor, keeping other guests out of the way. No other staff is to go up to that level until I've apprehended the suspect and removed her to a secured location from which Giamanno and I can finalize the paperwork and extradition."
"I have cleared an office on the main level for that purpose. Will I escort you to the suite?"
Eve didn't know if it was guts or courtesy, but she had to give the woman credit. She made the offer as if Eve were a visiting celeb come for a weekend vacation. "No, the elevator's far enough. I'll need a code card for the door."
"I have them." She gestured, explaining as they walked toward the gracious lakeside entrance, "When a guest has retired to his or her room, it is recommended that they activate the night lock and alarm, for their own security. These can only be opened from the inside, or by a second code card in case the staff must enter. An emergency of some nature."
She drew two thin cards from the pocket of her smart jacket. "The white, with the villa's logo, works the standard locks. The red is for the night system."
"Got it." They walked under a kind of portico, smothered with vines that scented the air with vanilla. Double glass doors etched with a portrait of the villa whisked open at their approach.
They moved through a cool sitting area, stylishly plush with color, where the sunlight dribbled in like spilled gold through arched windows. It caught and glinted on the teardrop-shaped crystals on the many tiers of a chandelier. Outside on a stone terrace, a couple in white robes strolled by, arm in arm.