a man like Salvatore, whose family owned one of the most prestigious and sought-after security firms in the world, the concept of not having any money did not compute?
He being richer even than her father, she supposed that was exactly the case.
“We can’t.” She sighed and rubbed her eyes with her thumb and forefinger, for a moment not caring if her enemy saw this sign of weakness. She was so tired. “Signor di Adamo is trying to hold on to the store for his grandson, but it gets harder every year.”
“The auction for the crown jewels will bring in funds.”
“Yes. A great deal of money that he needs very badly, but I don’t know if even that will be enough. The security system isn’t the only thing needing improvement around here.”
She thought of the building’s leaky plumbing and dodgy wiring. It was old, original to the store’s inception. She shuddered to think of what sort of improvement Signor di Adamo’s private apartments required.
“I will take care of it.”
“He won’t let you.” One of the things that had drawn her to the old man was his fierce sense of independence so like her own. His pride would never accept charity.
She said so, but Salvatore just shrugged. Not really a smile, the tiny tilt at the corner of his lips reminded her of things she would rather forget.
“I know how to work around a man’s pride.”
“I don’t doubt it. You’re good at manipulating people.”
He shook his head. “I will not allow you to draw me into another argument, cara.”
“I don’t want to argue with you.” It was true. The rage that had sprung up before was all but burned out. She just wanted him to be gone.
“This is good.”
For a moment her mind could not comprehend what he had said until she realized she had only spoken aloud regarding not wanting to argue, not her desire for him to be gone. “I don’t want to see you at all.”
“We cannot have everything, dolcezza.”
Dolcezza. Sweetness. He’d used to call her that because he said she tasted and acted so sweet. It scraped at wounds that were no longer raw and bleeding, but were not anywhere near healed. “Don’t call me that.”
“Where are the crown jewels now?” he asked, as if she’d never spoken.
“I told you. They’re in the vault.”
His body went taut, his attitude one of extreme alertness. “You’ve taken possession of them already?”
“Yes.”
“Your father thought they were not being transported from Mukar for a week or more.”
“That is what the former crown prince wished. He told everyone they were being transported just before the auction. He hoped to make the transfer in secret. It worked.”
“Just because I did not know you had them does not mean no one is aware they have been brought here.”
“They’re safe in the vault,” she repeated stubbornly.
“Perhaps, but you are not safe.”
He kept harping on it and she knew he was right, but she didn’t know what to do about it. And frankly, when she’d negotiated for the auction, she hadn’t really cared about her safety one way or another.
The numbness after losing the baby and Salvatore had worn off, but a certain malaise of spirit lingered on. Sure personal happiness was out of her reach, she would risk anything, do anything to ensure it for a man who had been so good to her. Signor di Adamo.
Salvatore had moved without her realizing, while her mind had been off in its own little world. His hand brushed her cheek and she felt the gentle touch like a branding that both burned and physically hurt.
“I will never leave you alone.”
Leaving her dazed from that small interchange, he spun on his heel and left her office.
CHAPTER TWO
SALVATORE waited for Elisa to come out of her office. She’d spent the remaining hours of the afternoon working on the auction while Salvatore and Signor di Adamo discussed new security features for the store and measures to keep both the old man and Elisa safe until the crown jewels were sold. Signor di Adamo handled customers as well, showing his grandson the ropes of the business, while Salvatore made phone calls on his mobile and ordered necessary equipment to be installed immediately.
It had been a pleasant afternoon, but the next few minutes did not promise to be so pleasant. He had to tell Elisa that he was going home with her. He had no choice, but he doubted very much she would see things that way.
She didn’t.
Five minutes later she was glaring at him as if he had suggested something obscene. “No way.” She shook her head so hard part of her hair slipped out of the French twist on the back of her head. It fell over one green eye and she impatiently shoved it aside. “You are not going home with me.”
“If anyone knows of the jewels’ whereabouts, neither you nor your employer will be safe. He will be staying with his daughter and son-in-law. You have no one.”
An expression came into her eyes when he said that, a bleakness of spirit he did not like and one he did not associate with the fiery woman who had been his lover. “I don’t have you either. Wouldn’t have you. Even as a misguided gift from my father. You aren’t going with me and that’s final.”
With that she marched past him and out the door, leaving Signor di Adamo to lock up. Salvatore cursed and followed her.
“At least allow me to drive you home.” He would take care of getting in the door of her apartment once they arrived.
“I’ll catch the bus.” And then she was running to do just that and Salvatore felt a wave of shock as he realized she’d thwarted him with less effort than it would have taken a five-year-old.
Furious, he rapped out orders to one of the men he’d brought in during the afternoon. He would see to Signor di Adamo and his grandson’s safe journey home.
Salvatore slung himself behind the wheel of his black four-wheel drive and followed that damn city bus all the way to Elisa’s apartment.
He was not in a good mood when he got there.
Elisa stepped off the bus and a very unpleasant word slipped past lips stiff with frustration.
Salvatore waited for her in front of her building with the look of a man ready to do violence. Only, if she knew anything about him, she knew he would not physically harm her. Even in the midst of his rage over the baby, he had kept his blows to the verbal variety.
All the same, she couldn’t help the shiver of apprehension that skittered down her spine.
She approached the entrance warily, her eyes fixed on the spot of the red-painted door visible to the left of Salvatore’s tall frame. If she could just get inside that door and away from the man in front of it, everything would be fine.
She stopped a foot away because he hadn’t moved.
Nor had he spoken, but his body language spoke volumes and all of it bad.
“Do not ever run from me again.”
She allowed herself to meet his gaze, pretending not to feel the shards of pain such a motion caused her deep inside. “Go take a hike. You don’t dictate to me.”
“Someone needs to. You have no concern for your own safety.”
Her eyes widened at that. “What could possibly happen to me on the city bus?”
“If you don’t know, you are more naïve than a