Morgan gripped Natasha's hand hard as the limo pulled up to the beach house. Morgan's look was pleading. "Please don't do this, Tash."
Natasha squeezed back and gave Morgan what she hoped was a reassuring smile. "This is the best for everyone."
Morgan shook her head vehemently. "The best for everyone? Lacey and Colin will be a mess not to mention Gianni. How can you do this to him?"
Natasha felt her heart clench painfully in her chest before she shoved the feeling down. "I'm doing this for him—to protect him." Her voice softened. "I'm doing all of this for him."
Morgan's tone was insistent. "Doing the best for him by hurting him?"
Natasha swallowed thickly before slipping her hand from Morgan's tight grip. "Better hurt than dead," she said numbly.
Morgan sat back in her seat, tears sliding down her face.
Natasha gazed at the beach house speculatively. She spoke softly. "You can't tell him, Morgan. If he comes after me, Luca will kill him. He'll probably kill me too." She turned to face the other girl. "Do you understand?"
Morgan said nothing.
"Morgan?" Natasha insisted.
"I understand," the other girl said quietly not quite looking at her.
"Remember the story?"
Morgan nodded.
Natasha signed and returned her gaze to Lacey and Colin's beach house, trying to push the dread and anxiety down. She had to be calm if she was going to pull this off. She turned over her shoulder to see a black Chevy Tahoe van parked a few houses down. If she wasn't out in twenty minutes, they were coming in after her. Luca waited in the back seat.
Natasha took a deep breath and blew out slowly. "Alright, let's get this over with."
Natasha reluctantly opened the car door and stepped out into the California sun. She was well dressed and well groomed. Her dark curls had been straightened to hang in silky strands down her back. Her make-up was flawless. She wore a pair of J skinny jeans under a white collared shirt cinched around her waist by a wide brown leather belt. On her feet were a pair of Cesari Paciotti boots. Morgan emerged looking similarly well, as though they had been at the spa for a weekend rather than in captivity.
Steeling herself Natasha slipped on her new Chanel sunglasses and strode to the front door, Morgan trailing slightly behind. She knocked and waited.
When the door swung open she was met with Lacey's shocked face. "Tasha!"
Natasha smiled thinly, coolly. "Lacey."
Natasha was immediately snatched into a hug. Lacey was crying, fat tears rolling down her cheeks. She even grabbed Morgan up in a hug. "I hate you but I was so scared. I don't want anyone else to kill you."
Morgan's voice was absent. "Anyone else?"
Lacey was dragging them into the house. "No, if it happens, I'm going to be the one to do it."
"Cols, Gianni!" Lacey was shouting.
The two men emerged from the kitchen and stopped short, shock evident on their faces. Morgan was a blur of red hair and Armani scent as the raced by and flung herself into Colin's arms. Colin caught her up in his embrace, relief flooding his face. Gianni stood stock still looking at Natasha. Natasha stood rooted to her spot, her shades still over her eyes.
Her voice was soft. "Gianni."
He reached her in three long stride, sweeping her up into his arms and crushing her to him. Her booted heels dangled off the ground as he held her, his face buried in her neck. "Bella, baby, my love...." he was whispering over and over again He set her down on her feet and gently removed the dark sunglasses from her eyes before setting them aside. His hands were in her hair, smoothing it back from her face. Her gaze was concentrated and unwavering on the center of his chest.
"Natasha?" He took her chin between his thumb and forefinger and lifted her face to his. She seemed to reluctantly meet his gaze and when she looked at him her lovely gaze was cool and detached.
Her voice was similarly cool when she spoke. "I need to speak with you." Her eyes darted to the others. "Alone."
Gianni's dark brows drew together in concern. "Of course, bella."
Natasha pulled out of his arms and strode through the kitchen and opened the French doors which led out onto the patio which overlooked the ocean below.
She went to the railing and gripped the wrought iron so hard the blood left her knuckles. She took a deep breath and exhaled slowly as she heard Gianni close the doors behind them.
Gianni moved to stand behind her, his chest pressed against her back but her body lost none of its rigidity. Her head dropped forward slightly and he felt her draw a shuddering breath. He placed his hands on her shoulders, pulling her more fully against his body and dipped his head to press a light kiss on her hair and then her temple. He then moved to wrap one arm around her waist, lifting his other hand to take her chin between his thumb and forefinger. He bent and turned her face to his, seizing her lips with his own. Her knees buckled and he tightened his hold on her, keeping her against his body.
Gianni kissed her voraciously, his tongue gently but firmly caressing the recesses of her mouth. His lips massaged her own as a low moan rumbled through him. He gently turned her in his arms as he felt her tentatively return the kiss. And then she was wrapping her arms around his neck, pulling herself closer, pressing her breasts against the unyielding hardness of his chest. Gianni felt the anxiety of her absence and of her cool return vanish as he held her. His woman was safe and in his arms. He tightened his hold on her feeling as though their bodies pressed against each other were not enough but that he needed to make her a part of himself.
He felt her hands against his chest pushing at him though her lips clung to his. With a strangled cry she wrenched herself suddenly from his arms. She stumbled, nearly tripping in her tall booted heels in her attempt to evade his hand as he reached out to steady her. She shrugged him off lightly, her heart clenching at the flicker of hurt in his silver gaze as she pulled away from him.
He reached for her again. "Bella—"
Natasha sidestepped him, shaking her head. "No. Enough." She was still shaking her head as she ran a trembling hand through her now straight locks. "Enough." She repeated softly. I can't do this anymore."
Gianni's arms fell to his sides. "Natasha, baby, what are you talking about? I don't understand. What's happened to you?"
Natasha eyed him momentarily as she kept her distance. His dark hair fell in waves about the collar of his white t-shirt which stretched tightly over his broad chest. His strong square jaw was shadowed with stubble. His grey gaze, fringed by thick dark lashes, stood out vibrantly against the golden tan of his skin. Her eyes lingered on the sensuous curve of his mouth and she considered that it had already been the last time that she would ever kiss his lips or that it was the last time that he would look at her with such love and yearning. In the next few moments he would grow to hate her.
She took in the strong lines of his body. No, she didn't think he would hurt her, although he was certain he might want to.
"I have to go," she said and made a movement towards the door'' He moved into her path quickly, as she had known he would. She had gone over this scenario in her head again and again. She had to play this perfectly if she was going to save him.
His brow was furrowed in confusion. "You have to go? What do you mean? Where are you going? I don't understand, baby. What's wrong?"
Natasha looked at him, the cool demeanor back in place. "I'm going now. I'm going back to Luca. You won't be harmed.
Gianni was in front of her in an instant, his strong hands gripping her shoulders. He shook her lightly. Bewilderment tinged with anger flooded his handsome face. "Natasha," he shook her as though he were trying to snap her out of it. "What do you mean you 'have to go?' Did you make some deal with him? What the fuck are you talking about?"
Natasha gave him a two-handed shove. Normally she would not have been able to budge him but she caught him off guard. She abruptly stepped out of arms reach as she tugged her clothing back into place and tossed her dark hair over her shoulders. Her voice was level and calm when she spoke. "I told Luca that this has gone far enough and I want it to stop. I did not mean for things to get this complicated...I didn't think that..." she faltered, her eyes drifting closed for a moment as she drew a deep breath and then looked at him again. "I didn't mean to get so involved..." she paused, "with you. And for that deception I am truly sorry, but I am done with this. I didn't want my friends involved or hurt. This has gone far beyond anything that Luca had planned in the beginning." She had rehearsed these lines over and over in her head for the past two days. Her voice was steady though she allowed a slight waver to enter. Let him think it was out of fear of her revelation.
Gianni stood rigid, his fists clenched at his sides. He practically radiated ill-restrained fury. "Explain, Natasha," he nearly growled at her.
Natasha eyed him warily and took another step back from him and leaned back against the deck railing. She crossed her booted heels in front of her and examined her fingetips though she glanced up at him periodically as she spoke. "Our meeting in the airport wasn't an accident. Luca made sure that you would be there by convincing your father to send you on a small recon trip. You were supposed to have the information on me already but the courier was late. I had to wing it and literally bump into you to get your attention." She lied, her eyes flickering to his and then back to her hands. The wind whipped her hair about her face but she ignored it. A wry bitter smile curved on her lips. "I'm not really as clumsy as I seemed that first day, but you were so ready to play knight in shining armor the moment you thought I was in trouble. You were supposed to grow to care for me, love me even...and I was supposed to pull you away from the Angiolini family business, leaving everything to Luca."
