Forbidden Kiss (15 page)

“I’m here as long as you want me and probably then some. I don’t have all the answers, but I’ve been hoping, am hoping, you’ll help me find them.”

Jule took his hand and led him back under the blankets.

Chapter Eighteen

“The Art Institute—of course it wasn’t called that then—was the only building at the end of an empty dirt street. But it was beautiful in a stark, unsettling way. Alone. Standing testament to Chicago’s entry into the art world.”

Jule laid with her head on his chest, listening to the rumble of his voice as it drew upward and out his mouth. Their legs were comfortably intertwined and her hands lazily stroked his belly and occasionally slightly further south.

She was blissfully happy, as long as she didn’t think about the rest of the world, the paintings, her parents, Pio, and an uncertain future with Rom. But she knew sooner or later she’d have to.

For now, she was drifting.

“I’ve seen photographs of it back then. It must have been amazing.”

“For Chicago, it was a big deal.”

“But you’ve seen bigger things, right?” she said, turning her head to see him.

His eyes clouded with what she supposed were memories. Memories she didn’t and wouldn’t have, couldn’t share with this man.

“I’d like to know something about your history. Tell me one thing. And don’t say it’s not important.”

He reached for her, pulling her head up so he could kiss her. Jule closed her eyes and felt herself giving in, which she guessed was what he wanted. She pulled back and sat up.

“The American Revolution. Were you here for that?”

“Yes. And you Yanks won.” He smiled, reaching for her again. Jule stayed out of reach and kept talking.

“We won. But which side did you fight on?”

“Neither. I fought with the Native Americans.”

She hadn’t expected that. “Against the British?”

His hand rested on her naked criss-crossed legs, perilously close to the juncture of her thighs, but he behaved. “Against the British, against the Colonists. Against the French. Against anyone who exploited them for greed and gain. They were just trying to survive in a world turned upside down. Hang on to their way of life in the face of conquest, disease, and displacement. In the end nothing I did made a difference.”

“But you tried,” Jule said.

“It didn’t matter.” He shook his head. “In the end, they decided I was as evil as the invaders.”

“Why?”

“Because I never died.”

Jule looked into his eyes, knowing he’d fought to champion an underdog. Despite the futility, he’d been elbow deep in blood, tragedy, and death. How horrible it must have been.

“That wasn’t the first war you’ve fought in. Was it?”

“You know, this conversation is a real downer as far as the sex goes.” He tried to lighten the mood.

“How many?” She asked, dreading the answer.

“How many what?” He looked down at her breasts.

“How many wars have you fought in?”

He avoided her eyes and instead ran a finger under one breast. “All of them.”

Holy crap
.

Jule didn’t know what to say. She didn’t even know if she could process the information. So she did the only thing she could think of.

“Kiss me.”

And he did.

A couple of hours later with a fully sated body, Jule’s restless mind latched onto a question that had bothered her for days.

“If you’re immortal, Rom, what kind of future do long term relationships have?”

If she’d been a few inches away, she wouldn’t have felt the almost imperceptible tension in his body. But as it was, she was wrapped in his embrace enjoying the heat of his body covering hers.

Her question hit home.

And Jule knew the answer without him speaking a word.

“Up to this point, none.”

“So something has changed?”

Rom relaxed his arms and pulled up to gaze down at Jule on her back. “You could say that.”

“Well, I did. But tell me what you think.”

Rom chuckled and Jule closed her eyes at the feel of his vibrating chest against her sensitive breasts. She was sooo ready to go again, but first, she wanted the answer to this question.

If he needed to let her down, she wanted it now, before she completely lost her body and soul to him.

Crap.
Who was she kidding? Jule was already in very serious trouble with Rom Montgomery.

“I think there is a way to reverse Lawrence’s gift of immortality.”

Had she heard him right? She looked deep into his swirling night sky eyes. “You can be mortal again?”

“Yes.”

He hesitated.

“What’s the catch?” She wanted to smooth the hair back from his forehead and cradle his head to her breast.

“I think it will only work if we’re both there to walk through history again.” He smiled sadly and kissed her nose.

“I’m not following,” Jule said.

“Me, either. But it’s something Lawrence said that last time before I left.” Rom’s gaze turned inward and Jule felt him move back through the centuries.

“History will repeat itself, but provide me a way to make it right. For years, I didn’t know what that meant, but now that I’ve found you, I suspect we have to go back to the beginning.”

“And where is that?” Jule asked.

“The tomb.”

Rom glanced at Juliet’s dagger lying sheathed on the dresser.

Something clicked in her head and Jule knew. “That’s why you carry the dagger? Waiting for the moment when history repeats itself? What do you plan to do with it?”

His eyes met hers and Jule felt herself swimming in a sea of warm emotions. Love. Joy. And pain.

“It’s what tripped us up last time. I gave it to Juliet to protect herself if need be. I didn’t know she would take her own life. It was my fault.”

“Shhh.” Jule covered his lips with her fingertips. “You didn’t kill her. It was a tragic mistake.” But she knew her words didn’t sink through his grief. She wasn’t that Juliet.

Now Jule pulled him down and stroked his head. He let her and wrapped his arms around her waist, drawing her close.

She guessed his admission cost even more than she realized. He’d carried it for centuries, this thing he considered a personal failure. Punishing himself with no end in sight.

Jule wondered if he’d ever be able to get over the past. Even if he regained his mortality. Would it be enough?

…

Her cell phone rang as she packed her meager belongings for the trip back into Verona. Rom didn’t know she’d be going this time, but he’d find out soon enough. She wasn’t sitting around this vacation dream spot another hour while he was off doing God knows what.

“Jule Casale,” she answered.

“Jule, goodness it’s good to hear your voice,” said the voice on the other end.

“Rossi. I’m so sorry I haven’t returned your calls. Things have been, well, kind of crazy.” Who was she kidding? How about balls out, so insane, you wouldn’t believe it if I told you?

“Si. Montgomery filled me in on some of it yesterday when he came by.”

Rom had gone to see Rossi? And he hadn’t told her? Why didn’t that surprise her? And why did the news hurt like ever-living hell? “Oh, right. Well, we’re headed back into the city today, so I’d planned to come by and see you myself.”

She covered as best she could.

“Good. Good. I have news you’ve been waiting for.”

“Tell me!”

“The museum group has contacted me and granted you and Montgomery access to the palazzo. That’s good news, si?” he asked when she didn’t immediately get excited.

Yeah, it’d be good news if they hadn’t already risked their neck to get inside.

“That’s great, Rossi.”

“Hmmm. You don’t sound as excited as I imagined you would be. How about if I told you, they’ve also granted you permission to their records and possibly some information on the whereabouts of the missing paintings?”

“Now you’re talking!” she said.

“Yes. I thought that bit might get your attention.”

“So when can we get in?” Jule knew it would take her and Rom two hours to get back into Verona. “In a few hours?”

“The new owners have requested a night visit. It shouldn’t interfere with the workmen they have there during the day.”

Workmen? Rom had some major explaining to do.

“So, this evening, then?”

“Yes. Seven o’clock.”

Jule felt the bubbles of excitement start to swell in her stomach. They were close.

“Oh, Rossi, I could kiss you. You’ve been such a help. I owe you,” Jule said.

Rossi cleared his throat. “Forgive me for asking, but is everything okay?”

Jeez. Was it that obvious that her life had gone to hell?

“I’m living in the moment, Rossi. Not a state I’m used to. But I think everything will work out eventually. Thanks for asking.”

Man was she ever a bad liar. Fortunately, he didn’t know her well enough to know Jule Casale just didn’t lie.

…

Orti answered on the third ring.

“Found anything out for me, yet?” Rom asked.

“Montecchi, my old friend, good to hear from you again. And yes, I have some information I think you’ll be interested in.”

“Good. Can you meet?” Rom heard him flipping pages and murmuring to himself.

“Today? Three o’clock?”

“Fine. Your office?”

“No. I take coffee at that hour. I’ll meet you in Piazza Erbe.”

Rom disconnected and turned to find Jule in the doorway. “Who’s Orti?”

“A contact,” Rom said moving through the kitchen.

“And you’re meeting him today?”

“Seems that way.”

“I want to go with you.”

His plan had been for her to stay put, but after her concerns from yesterday with an unidentified something in the woods, coming with him might actually be better.

“Fine.”

Jule sputtered to a complete stop. The look on her face was priceless.

“Expecting something else?” He asked casually.

She recovered quickly. “No. I’m ready when you are.” And she was. Her bag was already packed and slung across her shoulder.

She dropped to one knee when Max nudged her leg. “Oh, Max, buddy, I’m going to miss you something terrible. We’ve been a good partnership these last two days. Thanks for watching my back.”

Jule hugged the dog who, amazingly, stayed put.

“Is there someone to take care of him now that we’re leaving?”

“The other tenants will come and retrieve him. He’ll be well taken care of.”

Jule nodded and stood, sailing out the door without another glance, unshed tears glistening in her eyes.

They made it into Verona with little to no conversation. Rom guessed something troubled her, but Jule kept her own council and he didn’t force the admittance, knowing she would have to make the leap to trust him completely and share in her own time.

He parked and turned to Jule, who looked out the side window. “You’ve never been back in all this time?”

Rom nodded.

“But you remember everything here like it was yesterday.”

He raised his eyebrows, not sure if she wanted confirmation, or if she was just thinking out loud.

She shook her head. “What now?”

“I need to meet someone in an hour.”

His plan started at three o’clock and if Orti came through with the information he needed, Rom planned to have Mascaro neutralized by this evening. Once that threat was out of the way, they could return to the paintings. And figuring out what the hell Lawrence was trying to tell him.

“All right. While you do that, I’m going to have a look around.”

“Whoa. Whoa. What? We’re not separating.”

“So you plan to babysit me every second of the day?”

He scowled. Hard. “As a matter of fact, I do.”

She opened the passenger door, slammed it, and started marching away.

Rom slammed his own door, locked it, and hurried, catching Jule as she rounded the corner to the Piazza.

“I didn’t mean for it to come out like that. You don’t need a babysitter, but I feel better when I’m with you. And I know exactly what is going on. There’s a son-of-bitch out there, in this city, who wants you in a very bad way. Remember?”

“I’m just going to talk to Rossi. Find out if he’s turned up anything.”

He didn’t like it, but perhaps it would be better if she went on her way, at least until after his meeting with Orti. She’d be safe enough with Rossi.

Rom nodded. “I’ll walk you to his office. But you’ll stay there until I return?”

She looked at her watch. “How long?”

He didn’t know, but hopefully a couple of hours should do it. “I’ll be back at five to pick you up.”

Jule smiled tightly and nodded.

So they set out for Rossi’s.

…

Castelvecchio towered in the distance, blocking out the rest of the city and the Adige beyond. Rossi’s office was in an outbuilding inside the ten-foot thick fortress walls, walls that had seen numerous sieges, wars, and uprisings. And still they stood, testament to the power of the noble families of the Verona.

A chill crept up her spine, pricking the hairs on her neck.

Jule looked around, making eye contact with the people of the street. She glanced at parked cars, looking for any sign of Pio.

Nothing.

The crisp air had a way of making her feel alive and connected to the world in a way she hadn’t felt back home in Chicago. It soothed and calmed her escalating fears.

“So we saw four paintings still in the altar.” Rom counted them off his fingers. “Five are missing, but we know the content of two of those.”

Jule nodded as she wrote, thinking of Rom’s and the Institute’s paintings back home.

“There’s no telling where the last three are. They could still be in Italy or halfway around the world for all we know.”

“More reason to get back in touch with Rossi,” Jule said. Not knowing he already had.

“The second painting depicted the wedding in Lawrence’s cell at the monastery. Nothing new there.”

Jule disagreed. It was all new to her. But she wrote it down anyway. “Tell me about it.”

“What, the wedding?” He looked uncomfortable.

“Yeah.”

“What do you want to know?”

Was he serious
? “What was it like? You said Shakespeare got some stuff wrong, but hello, I don’t know what that would be. You’re the closet source to the truth.”

“It was quick and quiet, tempered by the fact that the ceremony had to remain a secret. Lawrence was more than happy to perform the union. He was looking to move up and figured the shortest route was through noble families.”