Page 37 of Enduring Caine
“I’m going to shower and turn in for the night. I only had surgery last week and Samantha has been lecturing me about getting my rest. Please see that no one disturbs me.”
“Of course.”
“And the same goes for Samantha. She slept poorly last night and was yawning so much she could hardly speak to me just now.”
“Certainly. I’ll pass the message along to my replacement.”
“Grazie mille,” said Antonio, and his door clicked closed.
I clamped my lips together, waiting, barely able to control my breathing.
The door moved, and Antonio appeared, pressing a finger against his lips. As he turned on the water in the shower, I locked the bathroom door. I closed the distance between us, and pressed my face against his back, wrapping my arms around his big, warm frame.
“Stay quiet or someone may hear you.” He turned in my arms, groaning quietly, causing me to shift so I wasn’t touching his bad arm. The good one slid around my shoulders and we both exhaled deeply.
The entire world slowed from its normally manic pace, and I melted against him. There were so many sides to him, each one my favorite depending on the moment. But here, in the den of an antiquities smuggling empire, surrounded by men with guns and all the questions of what was really going on, gentle Antonio was what I needed most. The one who whisperedI love youinstead of shouting it from the rooftops. Who held me without making me feel weak. Who gritted back whatever pain he was feeling to comfort me. I would have done the same for him—and had in the past—but the best part was I didn’t have to ask for any of it. He just knew. He understood me like we’d known each other our entire lives.
“I love you, Antonio,” I whispered against his neck.
“I hope there are no other cameras,” he sighed. “Because I don’t want to give this up.”
“Then let’s take advantage of our time.” I withdrew from the embrace, keeping my eyes on his, and pulled my shirt off, revealing a utilitarian black bra. “You can shower by now, right?”
His eyes narrowed, a smirk spreading across his lips, but it rapidly turned into a shaking head. “Elliot was at the bakery this morning.”
I gasped, throwing both hands over my mouth, for fear of how loud I was.
“Sì, I told you I needed to speak with you,” he whispered.
“What did he want?”
“To know if we’re alright. I told him we were, but he wants to see you.”
My hands rose to my forehead and down my cheeks, trying to scrape the layer of surprise and confusion off myself. “Elliot said he was coming to Rome for meetings. A touch-base with the team. It may be close, but this isn’t Rome. So, what’s he doing here?”
“This is not a coincidence.”
“No, it isn’t.” I clasped my hands together and pulled them against my heart. How was Antonio going to takemynews? “Vincenzo’s an undercover TPC officer.”
He took a half-step back, head turning slightly like he was unsure if he’d heard me clearly. “In my uncle’s house?”
“I probably wasn’t clear about this in the airport, but Elliot said the TPC had a man inside. I just never would have thought—”
“That it would be your ex-boyfriend?” The tick in his jaw and the way his pitch flattened told me the jealousy wasn’t as firmly packed away as he claimed. But who could blame him? This wasn’t just any old ex—this was the ex who almost prevented me from dating Antonio at all. Plus, I’d spent hours with Vincenzo earlier doing something I loved, and now he was an undercover agent spying on Antonio’s family.
Any less reaction and I would have questioned if they’d swapped out my Antonio with a sexy imposter.
“Alright,” I said, stepping closer to eliminate the space he’d created between us. “How are we going to see Elliot again? Or does it wait until we leave here? How long are we staying?”
“Giovanni has another surprise for me, which is arriving on Friday. I told him we’d stay until then.” His gaze fell to my chest, his thumb tracing the edge of my bra. It was a quiet moment, not about sex, but about intimacy. “Elliot will be at the bakery every day. Ten and two.”
“Good thing I mentioned wanting to go back?”
He nodded, the hand drifting down my side, then to my stomach. “He wants to know you’re alright.”
I snuck my fingers under his shirt, echoing his movements, brushing along the dip of his obliques. “Vin said he’s had problems communicating with his handler because the security’s so tight. I wonder how closely the FBI and TPC are working together?”
Antonio’s hand left me and extended over his head to his back. He pulled his shirt off in a slow motion, careful to wind it around his injured arm. “Did Vincenzo ask you to contact anyone?”