A Shot of Red (19 page)

Chapter Twenty-Two

Despite the view, Mia drew the drapes over the French doors and windows in her hotel room. Gio bolted the door. Her body trembled and she wrapped her arms around herself to try to keep still.

Gio hurried over to her and looked her up and down, his face drawn. “You sure you’re okay?”

“Don’t worry about me. You’re the one who took a bullet.” She gazed at the rip in his coat and the angry, bleeding wound beneath it. Her stomach churned. “Oh, God.” She pressed her hand against her midsection as if that would quell her nausea. It wasn’t just the torn flesh or the sight of his blood. She couldn’t bear to see him hurt. She couldn’t bear to lose him.

“Please tell me that’s the only place you got hit.” She stepped around him, her gaze sweeping over every inch of him, looking for blood.

“As far as I can tell,” he said. “I think I just got grazed.” He seemed way less concerned about his wound than she was.

“We should get you to a hospital,” she said. He needed care, but the idea of going out again—anywhere—sent a chill through her. She shuddered.

“Come here.” Gio drew her to him and held her close, just as he’d been doing in the street when the shots had started. But this time there was calm. His heart beat steadily beneath her ear and she nearly lost it. What would she have done if that bullet had killed him? The idea terrified her, and made her realize that she had to make things right with him. But only after they took care of his arm, and Skyped Lila.

After several more beats of his heart, she reluctantly pulled away. “Let’s have a look at your arm.” Her tone belied her hesitation. She helped him shrug off his coat, his fleece, and his shirt, each layer revealing more blood that had soaked his sleeves. Once they got down to his skin, Mia lost focus for a second at the sight of his half-naked body. The cut of each muscle…the tightness of his skin. Desire tingled through her, warm but not welcome. She had to stay focused.

He lifted his arm and squinted at the wound—a bloody oval streaked with black edges just above his triceps. “It’s not deep. Just messy.”

“We should clean it to make sure,” Mia said, but she wasn’t certain she could make good on her offer to help him.

“Why don’t I just take a shower?”

She couldn’t argue with that. “If you think that’s best. I’ll Skype Lila while you’re in there.”

He looked as if he was skeptical of that arrangement, but he didn’t say so. She’d rather have privacy while she spoke with Lila, and she was glad she didn’t have to push for it. “And I’ll call the front desk and see if they have a first aid kit, if you think we can get by with a lot of antibiotic ointment and some gauze.”

Gio glanced at his cut again, but Mia looked away, the burned and bloody image still vivid in her mind. “That’ll probably work. But have them bring it up. Don’t go down to get it. It’s too much of a risk for some grease and a Band-Aid.” He sat on the bed and took off his boots and socks. Mia watched, mesmerized by the ripple of each muscle as he moved. The man was simply beautiful. The man who had taken a bullet for her and risked his life carrying her to safety. His actions had so blatantly contradicted his harsh words this morning, leaving her both hopeful and confused.

She set up her computer, stealing a sidelong glance at him as he stepped into the bathroom, his jeans hanging just right on his hips. Maybe the threat of dying had her thinking a lot more about living…about the weight of his body on top of hers, the curve of his butt beneath her hands. The tension in his muscles as he’d thrust inside her and buried himself deep. Could she possibly resist him if he still wanted her?

The sound of running water brought her back to the task at hand. She quickly set up the Skype call and waited for Lila to appear on her screen. Mia was taken aback when she did. She’d never seen her grandmother look so weary.

“Thank goodness, Mia. I might’ve died from worry.”

“Sorry, it’s just…” Mia covered her mouth with her trembling hand.

“What’s happened?”

“Someone tried to shoot us. Gio got hit. Thank God it was just a graze wound but it could’ve been worse.”

Lila went pale. “This has to stop, Mia. You and Gio need to come home. We can’t risk another attempt on your lives.”

Mia’s heart plummeted. “But I’m putting the pieces together,” she said, even though she wasn’t sure of it. “And I have a meeting tomorrow with someone who might be the key to everything.”

“Cancel it and come home. We need you here. The epidemic is getting out of control.” Lila’s lips quivered. “We might have made a mistake with the vaccine.”

A flash of panic shot through Mia. Just as she had feared. The mention of a possible mistake brought the news of Nora’s death crashing back down on Mia. “Nora English died, Lila. She got the vaccine, but she died from the flu.”

Lila bowed her head, her face pinched with a pained expression. “I’m so sorry.”

“Me, too,” Mia said. “And that’s why I need one more day. I owe it to her to find out what happened to Brent, or at least to exhaust all my leads. I’ll come home Sunday as we planned.”

Lila shook her head, tiny back-and-forth movements. “I don’t like it. You and Gio are targets in Lucerne.”

“So there must be something here that someone’s determined to keep secret. We’ve got to find out what it is, because I’m dead certain it involves the vaccine.”

Lila leveled her steely blue gaze on Mia, its intensity cutting across continents. “One more day. No more than that.”

Mia nodded.

With a stricken look on her face that Mia had rarely seen, her grandmother said, “Promise me you’ll be careful.”

…

Gio came out of the bathroom, his jeans hanging low, his hair wet and slicked back, and his wound still angry. Even so, Mia could stand to look at it now without her stomach churning. The concierge had brought up a first aid kit. When Gio sat on the edge of the bed, Mia picked it up and joined him. “Wanna play doctor?”

His perfect lips curved up in a sly grin. She nearly kissed him, the desire to feel alive and connected consuming her. But she wanted to shower, too—a less destructive version of running away, and time to muster the nerve to say what she needed to say to him.

“It might hurt a little,” she said.

“Doubt it’ll sting any more than it did in the shower.”

Mia got busy dabbing ointment on the nasty wound and wrapping it with gauze, the bandage looking stark white against his olive-toned skin.

“Did you Skype Lila?” he asked.

She nodded. “She wanted us to come home ASAP.”

Gio combed his hand through his hair and left it tousled. The questions in his dark eyes captivated her.
Are we leaving? What happens then? What about
us
?

“I told her about Nora.” Mia closed the first aid kit and set it aside. “That I owe it to her and Brent to exhaust all our leads.”

“She was okay with that?”

“Not really, but I convinced her. We’ll go meet Katia Glasser tomorrow and leave Sunday as we planned.” She got up, grabbed a robe from the closet, and headed for the bathroom. “I’ll be out in a little bit.”

In the shower, she took deep breaths of the steamy air, trying to calm herself from the panic of another attempt on her life—and Gio’s. The fear that there had been a mistake formulating the vaccine. The shock of Nora’s death. As if that weren’t enough, she had to stop emotionally running from Gio. Both she and Gio could’ve died tonight, too. Life was too unpredictable to be at odds as they were. It was time to put everything out there, and she hoped she had the nerve to do it.

After she dried off, she smoothed scented lotion on her skin, slipped on the fluffy robe embroidered with the hotel logo, and cinched the belt. She brushed her hair and left it to air-dry, feeling as close to relaxed as she was going to get.

Mia stepped back into the room to find Gio lounging on the bed in the light of the bedside lamp—still shirtless—watching a news channel broadcasting in English. She caught a snippet of story about the worsening flu epidemic in the U.S., and how senior citizens were at the highest risk of contracting the virus. She’d decided not to tell him about her and Lila’s worry that there might have been a mistake with the vaccine. She wasn’t ready to believe that…yet.

Gio’s gaze fell on her and darkened with desire.

Right back at you…

He immediately turned off the television. She walked over and sat on the bed, facing him, feeling jittery inside. “I’m sorry I accused you of telling Brent about us. I made a stupid assumption and approached it all wrong.”

He sat quietly, seeming to gather his thoughts. “I didn’t understand why you’d even imagine I told him about us.” His tone was low and serious. “I never would’ve done that. What happened between us wasn’t about some macho pissing contest over who would get the girl. It had nothing to do with Brent.”

Her gaze met his and she glanced away quickly, the intensity in his eyes threatening to break through all her defenses. She never should’ve started this talk while he was shirtless. “No, it didn’t. Except I was involved with him for a while before that, and he was in love with me.” Mia caught the stiffening of his neck, the tensing of his pecs. If it was that hard for him to hear this, then he must truly have deep feelings for her. The idea sent a rush of heat through her, and it rose in her face.

This kind of conversation was miles outside of her comfort zone, but now that they were into it, she might as well go all the way. “I loved him, too. Just not in the way…” God, could she get the words out? They knotted in the back of her throat.

His curious gaze bored into her, pressuring her to explain how she felt.

Gio reached for her hand, squeezed it gently, and smoothed his thumb ever so lightly across her palm. The feathery sensation sent a shiver through her. She closed her eyes a moment, her heart beating heavily. She had to stop running.

Tell him…

She met his gaze. “I loved him,” she repeated. “Just not in the way I thought I could love you.” Mia swallowed hard as heat rose again in her cheeks. She gripped his hand just to keep hers steady.

He relaxed his broad shoulders, his tension seeming to ease.

“But I’d seen what feelings like that can do to people.” She kept talking while she still had the nerve. “Like when my mom fell for Richard and left my dad. Nothing good ever came of that. He never said it, but I know he was heartbroken until he died.”

Mia couldn’t put the blame on someone else, though. Especially her mother. “I handled it all wrong. I was never totally honest with you or Brent, and just because it’s hard for me is no excuse. Instead of staying and figuring it all out, I ran. Cut myself off from both of you. And when I came home, Brent was dead. As if that wasn’t difficult enough…there was you. You needed answers, but things are so complicated and I didn’t know what to tell you. I thought maybe I’d blown it all up in my mind. That I’d made what happened that night more meaningful than it was, more life-changing.”

She absently toyed with the terry cloth belt of her robe. Gio stayed silent as if he knew there was more, and saying something would stop her from telling it.

“But in New York you proved that I hadn’t imagined it,” she said softly. Her heart kept a hurried rhythm. “We disagreed about the talking points at the TV studio, but that stuff’s not what’s
real
, Gio.”

He pressed his lips together tightly and ran his hand over his scruffy cheek, looking as if that word might be as significant to him as it was to her.

“Then you come to Lucerne,” she said. “You risk your job—your life—to help me and my grandmother.” She released his hand and settled her gaze on his, matching his earlier intensity. “Only to tell me that I’m nothing to you but a fuck.”

Gio winced. “That’s probably how it sounded to you, and I’m sorry. But it’s sure as hell not how I feel.” He crumpled a handful of bed linens in his fist. “How do you think I spent all those months while you were in Haiti? Trying to figure out how I could’ve been so wrong about you and me together. That night with you changed me in ways I never saw coming.” He looked as if he was struggling through his defenses, just as she was. “As crazy as it sounds…you were it for me—the woman I’d waited for who actually made me
feel
.” He let that sit with her a second. “I left you that morning blinded by a ridiculous illusion that something similar had happened for you.” He shook his head and pinched his eyes closed for a second, giving her a short reprieve from seeing the hurt and betrayal in their depths.

“It did,” she said softly. “But I was dealing with my breakup with Brent. I didn’t know what to do.”

Gio leveled his stare on her. “You’re
still
dealing with Brent. That’s why I said what I did this morning, even though that’s no excuse.” He held out his hands, palms up. “I get that you’re grieving. That he might’ve been murdered. That he loved you.” His last words were little more than a whisper. “I envy that you feel so deeply for him.” He gave her a tight, rueful smile. “I’d give my damn life for a day of you feeling that way about me.”

Mia’s heart hitched. How could she not believe him? He’d shielded her from gunfire, and taken a bullet himself. He’d carried her to safety with little regard for his own. She stood, unable to sit under the weight of his gaze. It was her last attempt to run, but she only made it a couple of steps before she faced him. “I do.”

Gio’s gaze caught fire. He got to his feet and switched off the bedside lamp, the light seeping through the curtains illuminating the room with a dim glow. Mia watched curiously as he walked over and opened the shades on the plate-glass French doors. Across the glimmering river, the lights of the historic city winked. Ominous, yet beautiful.

Gio moved behind her and wrapped his muscular arms around her, his lips at her ear. “Do you?” he rasped, and kissed a tender trail down her neck. Heat sparked through her like a windswept wildfire. She tipped her head to the side and her robe slipped off her shoulder. He clutched her tightly and walked her toward the doors until she was right up on them, facing the view.