Gambler's Folly (Bookstrand Publishing Romance) (14 page)

Their arrival had been anticipated and everyone had to see the woman who had captured Damiano Leone. Cameras flashed, microphones sprouted like weeds trying to get anything to put on the local news. Damiano was charming, basking in the attention. Karianna did her best and told them this was her first time to the area. She was looking forward to some time on the beach.

Their suite was on the top floor, with a fabulous view of the sea. The brilliant turquoise of the shallow water deepening to a deep blue-violet was stunning.

“So, cara, do you think you can stand it here for two days?”

“What do you mean for two days?” she asked. “I thought we were going to be away for a week.”

“We are, but not here. We’re just here for business. After the meetings, we’ll go to the beach house for some privacy.”

“You have a beach house?” she asked. “Do you have houses and lodges everywhere?”

“No, of course not. Just in my favorite places, cara.” He laughed at her reaction, his gray eyes sparkling. “What use is money if not to spend on things you like?”

They spent their first evening walking on the beach, after a fabulous dinner of baked fish and sea yams, with freshly baked bread lightly buttered and seasoned. The stars were magnificent, reflecting off the calm evening waters of the sea. Karianna was amazed at the very fine black-violet sand on the beach. With each step her feet sank into the sand at the water’s edge, though it felt soft, almost squishy, between her toes.

Damiano left early in the morning to be at the meeting well ahead of time. He left Paolo as her bodyguard for the day and told her to sleep in. So she didn’t actually get up and about until midmorning. Feeling hungry, she wasn’t sure what would be the best thing to order, so she called Paolo, who suggested some of the local fruit with yogurt and the house coffee. And he was right. The mixed fruits were completely unknown to Karianna, and were sweet, tangy, and spicy all at once. The rich, cinnamon-flavored house coffee was marvelous. Paolo told her that it was grown locally, and it tasted like that right after roasting. There was nothing in it but coffee beans.

“Apparently,” he told her, “the soil here, combined with the sea and the heat, has caused a slight adaptation to the plants. And this gives the beans their unusual taste. But it is just the coffee beans you taste. Nothing is added.”

They had dinner on the beach that evening, the soft sea breezes cool, in spite of the warmer temperatures here. Damiano was relaxed and happy. She assumed his meetings were going well.

The next morning they got up together and walked on the beach in the cool moist breeze, just as the sun was rising, the sunlight casting peach and soft yellow light across the violet water. The air had a salty tang to it, similar to the oceans on Earth, but ever so slightly different. Karianna found it energizing and relaxing all at the same time.

Coffee and breakfast on the beach followed, and then Damiano went off to his meeting. In love with the beach, Karianna took a walk after breakfast, with Marco along for security. After an hour of sand and sea, they returned to the hotel.

Damiano was home a little earlier than expected, so they went down to have drinks before dinner. The tropical fruit juices, blended with the local white wine, made a wonderfully light cocktail, unusual but quite refreshing.

“What would you like for dinner, cara?” he asked her while they looked over the menu at the resort restaurant.

“I can’t decide,” she admitted. “It all looks tasty. The fish we had before was marvelous, but I hate to limit myself to one item. What are you having?”

Damiano ordered a clear soup as an appetizer, then chicken roasted over an open fire, salt water rice, seasonal vegetables, and sparkling water. The chicken, Damiano explained, was roasted on a grill, over a fire, on an outdoors pit. Smothered with a particular seaweed, which imparted a salty, tangy, herbal flavor to the meat, the local specialty was unique to the area and one of his favorites. She decided to give it a try.

They sipped sparkling water with lime while they waited for their food, holding hands across the table. Karianna wondered if she could possibly be falling in love with this man, who was her husband. It had certainly not been her intention. He was just so damned attentive, as if she was the one woman in the universe he’d been seeking his whole life.

Dinner arrived on a huge tray, carried by a waiter who seemed much too small for the job. Setting the tray down on the stand he’d brought, he checked each plate and then carefully placed one in front of Karianna.

“Here is Madam’s dinner,” he specified, putting it just so in front of her. “And your vegetables, madam.”

“And for Signor, your chicken and your vegetables,” again placing everything on the table with an exaggerated precision. “Can I get anything else for you?”

“No, grazie,” Damiano said. “That will be all.”

As Karianna shook out the serviette to put across her lap, she saw a puzzled look on Damiano’s face. Oh well, she thought, who knows, and picked up her fork for a taste of the chicken she’d heard so much about.

“No, cara!” he said suddenly. “Touch nothing.”

“But Dam, I’m hungry and it smells delicious.”

He looked around and motioned for Paolo and Marco to come to the table. “Marco, follow our waiter. See what he is doing, who is talking to. Paolo, take samples please, of my food and of hers. Something is wrong.”

“Damiano, how can anything be wrong? It’s just food,” she protested.

“Trust me, cara, I just know. Capisce? It is a gift which helps me sometimes.”

Paolo added, “Nobody knows how it works, Signora, but I’ve seen him right more often than not. It pays to heed his hunches.”

As Paolo gathered samples of their dinner, Damiano told him to go and order two dinners from another establishment and bring them to the suite after he had finished. “The food won’t be as good as what we should have had, but it will be safer, cara. I’m sorry.”

So they ate in the suite for the evening, and it was a good thing they had. When the lab reports came in, they showed the rice on Karianna’s plate had been laced with a hallucinogenic substance, which would have sent her to the hospital at the very least.

“But, Damiano, why are they doing this? And who is doing it? I don’t understand,” she asked.

“They are doing it to prove to me that they can get to you anytime they want. They hope to force my hand by putting you at risk. I believe I know who is doing it, but I can’t prove it yet. When I can…”

“What do they want you to do?”

“It is business, cara, just business. I will take steps to keep you safe. I promise you, I will move heaven and earth to protect you. If I can’t keep you safe, no one can.”

* * * *

The next morning, Marco and Paolo moved all of their things to the beach house. Damiano took her shopping, where they spent several hours looking through the shops, walking on the beach, and snorkeling. Bright little fish in all the colors of the rainbow swam around them, as if in formation, while the larger fish loomed nearer the seabed. Karianna was delighted as she swam after the schools of bright little fish and was sad when Dam said it was time to go back in. They snacked throughout the day on fresh fruit, fruit juice ices, and roasted bite-sized chunks of meat on skewers with crusty bread. Late in the afternoon, they went back to the beach house to dress for the evening. Damiano had promised her a night out on the town.

He had insisted on the crimson dress for the evening. “Cara, it looks so delicious on you, and here at the beach, bright colors are favored. It will be wonderful.”

Paolo drove them around to the club, where Damiano was treated like royalty. Dinner was fabulous, and while it wasn’t the chicken from the night before, it was safe and delightful.

After dinner and coffee, they joined the couples on the dance floor. Damiano danced gracefully, light on his feet, and masterful at leading with just the right amount of direction. She knew what he wanted, but didn’t feel like she was being shoved around the floor. His guidance was nearly intuitive, as if she could feel where he was going before he actually moved.

After the third number, they ordered drinks and went back to their table. Karianna had just taken the first sip of her lemon twist when they heard an explosion. As everyone else in the room jumped up to go look, they saw no need to add to the confusion. Right up until the manager came to tell Damiano how sorry he was that his beach house was in flames. Was there anything he could do to help?

“My beach house has been blown up?” he asked, incredulously.

“Si, Signor Leone. Boom! Just like that.”

Turning to Karianna, he took her hand in his and said, “Cara, I fear I must go and see to the arrangements. Will you stay here, at this hotel, while I go and see what is needed?”

“No, Damiano, don’t leave me here,” she pleaded. “Please don’t leave me. I’m frightened.”

“But, cara, it will be dirty and dangerous there. Here you could have a bath, get some rest…”

“No, I want to go with you,” she insisted.

“In that case,” he told the manager, “would you reserve the honeymoon suite for when we return, whenever that might be. I suppose for the next three days, until I can figure out what must be done.”

“Of course, Signor Leone. It will be done.”

Paolo drove them around the point to the remains of the beach house. The fire crew was there, putting out the last of the flames. Marco met them when they arrived.

“Signor, I saw no one. The alarms didn’t go off, there was no activity on the cameras, and the recordings are still safe. I have no idea how it was done.”

“That’s fine, Marco,” he told him. “We’ll let the fire marshall take care of the how. I think we know the why.”

They walked around the wreck of the house as best they could. Karianna tried not to get too sooty as she looked at the wreckage. She almost wished she’d stayed at the hotel. The smoke was acrid and dried out the inside of her nose. The smell was one she could taste as well, and she knew her hair was going to be filthy by the time they got back.

“Dam,” she said suddenly. “All of my clothes were in there and my recorders. They’re all ruined, or destroyed! What am I going to wear?”

“It’s alright, cara,” he consoled her, his arm around her. “We’ll buy new clothes tomorrow. Don’t worry, Karianna. I’m here.”

“But, there was something else in there, too. Something special.”

“Something special, cara mia?”

“Dam, I asked Marco about your birthday. It was going to be a surprise, for your thirty-ninth birthday tomorrow, and now it’s gone.”

“Cara mia, it’s alright. It is enough to know you care,” he told her, holding her tightly.

* * * *

It took nearly a week for them to get everything done. So much paperwork to do and interviews with the authorities. And then, because it was Damiano, there was the media to contend with.

“No, I have nothing to say right now, except we are both alright. Karianna is shaken, of course, but fine. I guess we’ll be doing some shopping. All of the clothes we brought were ruined in the explosion, along with her little flute she brought to play on the beach for me.”

They stayed at the one hotel for two nights, and then for security, Paolo booked a suite at another hotel in his name. They switched after dark, coming in by a back entrance.

“Is life always this exciting around you?” she asked him one night.

“No, cara, not normally. It’s just a particularly important business deal I’m involved in, which one of my competitors is trying to seize by whatever means he can. Usually my life is just a dull and boring affair,” he added, grinning broadly at her.

“No seriously, things will calm tame down again, won’t they?”

“They should, cara. They should,” he told her, holding her close.

As they enjoyed a glass of wine, he looked over, as if he was contemplating a difficult question.

“Is something wrong, Dam?” she asked.

He was quiet for a moment longer, and then said, “Karianna, may I ask you something?”

“I suppose,” she answered, a little confused. He didn’t usually have any trouble talking.

“We have been together now for what, six or eight months?”

“About that, yes.”

“Cara, dare I think that you might have come to love me, just a little bit? Or, maybe, that you might one day love me?”

Karianna had been ready for any question but that one. “Um, well, I don’t know,” she said. “I wouldn’t say that I don’t like you because, obviously, I do. I think I have begun to have some sort of feelings for you, but we have only a two-year contract, so I don’t want to get too attached. You know what I mean?”

“A two-year contract can be extended, if we decide,” he added. “So if you did love me by then, we could give it some more time.”

“Damiano, why do you ask?” She wanted to know.

“Because, cara, I do love you. I know, it is strange. I, who was never going to marry, have fallen in love. It is silly, no?”

“Not silly. Maybe a little peculiar,” she said. “Are you sure?”

“Yes, Karianna. I didn’t want to say anything before, but after this week, I know. I am in love with you, and it would make me the happiest man this side of Mars if you loved me, too.”

“It is possible, I suppose, that I might begin to love you, given some more time. I can’t say for certain, or look into a crystal ball and see the future. But I can’t rule it out, either.”

“One more silly question, cara. May I?”

“Why not? It seems to be the night for it,” she replied.

“Why do you never use any endearments to me? Is it because you don’t love me, or something else?”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, I call you cara, which in my language means dear, or darling. Or amore mia, my love. But you never use any of these words to me.”

“Oh. Well, this is going to sound stupid, but none of them fit you. They’re all too tame. I mean, dear, darling, sweetheart. They just don’t work for you. I can’t find anything that fits.”

“What would fit? How do they not fit?”

“Cara, amore mia, they sound romantic, almost exotic, to me. They make me feel special. But I haven’t found the words for you yet. Maybe when I know I’m in love, I’ll know the words.”