“Lena. You called Lena.”
I didn’t bother to open my eyes. “So?”
“Want to tell me what you told her.”
“I asked her to run a background check on you.” What was the point in lying?
He came over to stand by the tub. I opened my eyes to find him staring down at me, those deep brown eyes looking oddly troubled.
“A background check?” He moved his head in that funny way someone does when he doesn’t quite believe what someone has told him.
“Yes. I want to know who you really are.” I smiled. “Unless you’d like to stop lying and tell me yourself.”
He laughed. “Room service has arrived. If you’d like to join me, I’ll be on the terrace enjoying the evening and dinner. Would you like me to wait for you?”
“You go ahead. I’m going to luxuriate here for a while longer.” I held up my glass. “But I would take another glass of champagne, if you wouldn’t mind.”
He took the glass and brought back two filled to the brim.
“Here, you look like you need it.”
He left me to my bath. I frowned. My self-image took a little hit. Did I look that bad? Oh hell, who cared? I sank back into that delicious bath and pressed the Jacuzzi switch. I must have dozed because Zach came looking for me after a while.
“I wanted to make sure you hadn’t drowned.”
I half opened my eyes. I hadn’t even drunk the second glass of champagne. “Lord help me, I’m tired.”
“Time to sleep later. Better get dressed and have something to eat. I talked to Mr. Bellomo.”
I was instantly awake. “What does he know about my aunt?”
“He says he is willing to meet with us.”
“What if it’s a set up? What if he calls the police? Then where will we be?”
“I told him that wouldn’t be a good idea, if he wanted to see Elizabeth again.”
I stared at Zach. “He bought that?”
“He laughed and invited us to his house. A good way to control people is to threaten them.”
“I’ll remember that.”
Zach studied me for a few moments.
Lord help me, he looked good. He had dressed in his new tan slacks but hadn’t pulled on a shirt. His hair was slicked back. He’d even shaved. He stood there half-dressed, muscles bulging. It should be a sin to be that handsome and well-built, know it and flaunt it.
“Excuse me, but I’d like some privacy to finish my bath.”
He smirked. He was getting that facial expression down. “I’ll fix you a plate while I wait on the terrace.”
I smiled, and he left.
“Oh, would you mind bringing in my new clothing?” I called out as I lathered up.
The bag from the fancy shop sailed through the door and landed on the floor by the tub. Special delivery. At least they had decent hair dryers at a five star hotel. I was able to blow dry mine into something presentable, sort of flipped up. I admired my new duds as I pulled on a hot pink thong, Capri pants and white shirt. I love new clothes. I slipped into the sandals and wiggled my toes. They were so cute.
On the terrace I smelled the cigar before I saw it in Zach’s hand. He hadn’t put on his shirt and held a brandy snifter in the same hand as the cigar. He stood looking over our private pool into the courtyard beyond. His back was to me, and I admired the lines. Sculpted came to mind. This man knew how to live. A high class thief. But was he?
Would that this be any other time, any other situation. It would be perfect. I could anticipate the night to come in bed with Zachariah Lamont. All night long. I had a hot flash thinking about it. But I was wrapped up in a crazy, deadly game. There would be no long night ahead to enjoy. I had to find my aunt. Then this whole misunderstanding would be cleared up.
He turned and seemed to drink me in. “Wow, you look two hundred per cent improved. Nice outfit, the sandals especially.”
I said in my sweetest voice, “Would you mind unlocking the armoire so I can get my purse and makeup?”
“You don’t need any make up. You look great without it.”
My smile stuck to my face. “I’d like my purse. A girl feels naked without one.”
“Naked I like.” He grinned, fished in his pants pocket, and tossed the key to me.
I put on black mascara and rose blush, decided that would do since that’s all I carried with me and went out to join Zach, carrying my glass of champagne with me. I put the key to the armoire in my pocket.
He had fixed me a plate of grape leaves and salad and sat beside me. I wasn’t in a chatty mood, more pensive than tired. I ate in silence, relishing the feeling of food in my belly.
“You okay?” he asked, working on his cigar and brandy, a tiny note of concern in his voice.
I leaned back in the chair and sipped the champagne savoring its dry, brisk taste. “Things could be better.”
I looked over at him and something in the way the soft area lighting caught in his eyes, something about the way his mouth turned up, made me laugh. Like he understood how okay things weren’t. He started laughing, and I couldn’t stop, and then it turned to tears for me.
“Hey,” he said and handed me a clean napkin from the room tray. “Don’t cry. I hate to see a woman cry.”
“Right,” I said, sniffing and dabbing at my eyes so my mascara wouldn’t run. “How many have you made cry in your life?”
“I’m making you cry? Me? Why me?”
“Oh, shut up. Nothing you say makes any sense. I don’t know who you are, or where my aunt is. And why stay in a five star hotel with a drop dead gorgeous man, if you can’t screw your brains out all night long.”
“We can still do that,” he said in the soft, sexy voice, “after we come back from our visit with Mr. Bellomo.”
“Ha. If we come back,” I said. “He probably called the police after he got off the phone with you.”
Zach shrugged. “Maybe, but I doubt it. Mr. Bellomo is from Sicily. I don’t think the police play a big part in his life. He’s a business man in the import-export business. You ever run into any of those guys?”
“No, but you probably have, seeing as how you are a smuggler.”
He studied my expression and sighed. “Claudie.” He was back to the soft, sexy voice. “Look at me.”
I turned and met his gaze.
“Everything will turn out okay, I promise.”
I hated the tears in my eyes, but they wouldn’t stop. I wasn’t sure why they were there in the first place. “How can you be wanted by the FBI? What did you do? Why were you in jail?”
“Darlin’, this place doesn’t lend itself to the sad story of my life. It’s too beautiful here. The night is too young, the breeze too exotic, the air too laden with romance and excitement.”
I wasn’t buying the romance line. “Why does the FBI want you?”
“I got in with the wrong crowd a while back. We did a little antiquities trading, not entirely legal. I ended up doing a little bit of time in a nice white collar prison and was out as soon as I was in.”
“But you’re wanted again.”
“Yes, unfortunately. This time it’s weapons. I got a little greedy and did a little weapons trading, an F14 here and there, mainly to China. There are people in the federal administration that frown on that sort of trading. I guess I’m on the list again.”
“And the men in the Maruti? Is it the jewels or is there more to the story?”
He took a long drag on the cigar and exhaled, tossed the cigar into the potted palm, swirled the brandy and finished it off. I waited, feeling my twisted up guts twist tighter. This man was a higher roller than I figured. Unfortunately, he was rolling in the wrong circles for me.
“Don’t answer that,” I finally said, when he didn’t speak.
He glanced at me, a Pierce Brosnan 007 look.
Of all the Olympic Airways flights in this world, why did he pick mine? I froze. Because he knew who I was. He was following me, setting me up. Just like my aunt was set up. Why did it take me so long to figure it out?