Page 98 of Chasing Caine

I spluttered a laugh and looked up after his retreating form. “Ridiculous.”

“Anything to hear you laugh, amore.”

That was why I was here. Us. Laughing, chatting, hanging out in an open-top blanket fort. Not chasing after Umberto and Océane.

But what time was it? When did the gallery close?

No, put that aside.

I was leaving tomorrow. It would have been nice to solve the mystery, make Antonio proud, and return home a conquering hero—and maybe with a revised offer from Elliot and the FBI that would keep me in Brenton. But the police could handle the case. I could handle the bathtub. And Antonio. With those shoulders and those lips and those hands.

The tightness started between my thighs again. Something I wouldn’t have expected possible after the morning we’d had.

He closed the door but not all the way. Before turning on the water, he muttered, “Should have gotten bubbles.”

“No bubbles in a jacuzzi tub!” I raised my voice, but he probably couldn’t hear me over the tap. Housekeeping was going to be pissed enough with the spilled champagne and chocolate in the rug.

I’ll pay for it, he’d said, waving that silly hand of his.

A buzzing started from somewhere by the bed. “Antonio, your phone!”

No response. He still couldn’t hear me over the noise of the water filling the bathtub.

I rolled over and peered around to figure out where the noise was coming from. It was coming from his bag, which was tucked neatly under the bed. On all fours, I crawled over and unzipped it, my hand landing on the buzzing phone.

But it wasn’t his phone. It was an old-style clamshell. He used a touchscreen smartphone.

It buzzed again, and I flipped it open. “This is Antonio’s phone. He’s not here right now, can I take a—”

Click.

The hairs on my neck rose.

Why did he have a second phone? A man with his money didn’t need a cheap drug store phone like this. Especially not one with a small note taped to the screen on the inside,Dial 1.

And why would whoever called him hang up as soon as I answered?

Antonio’s shadow fell across the sliver of light from the bathroom. I snapped the phone shut, hiding it behind my back.

Phones like this were only used for secrets. Illegal activities. Other women.

He kept moving, humming some song to himself. Throat dry, unsure what I’d say to whoever was on the other end, I dialed one.

“Pizza di Russo,” came a woman’s voice. It was a disinterested voice, with no hesitation. Like she really was working at a pizzeria.

My heart thundered in my chest, breaking into a thousand pieces. That wasn’t who’d called.

I tried the second speed dial. Nothing. Three. Nothing. All the way to eight.

One ring and someone answered. Silence on the other end.

“Hello?” I said.

Click.

“Samantha?” Antonio’s voice was surprisingly close.

My gaze shot up from the phone to see him standing in front of me. All I could do was stare and blink. Hold the phone up. I should have known. No, I’d known all along.