avoiding the press.”
“I’m worried, though. She’s so private, and to have her life story plastered all over the place...”
Terrifying. “Say no more,” he replied. “I’ll head right over.”
* * *
Louisa had lost track of the time. Curled in the corner of her sofa, away from the windows, she hugged her knees and tried to make her brain focus on figuring out the next step. Obviously, she couldn’t stay in Monte Calanetti. Not without tainting the village with her notoriety. And going back to Boston...well, that was out of the question. What would she do? Go to her mother’s house and listen to “I told you so” all day long?
Louisa hugged herself tighter. Ever since seeing the media alert, there’d been a huge weight on her chest, and no matter how hard she tried to take a deep breath, she couldn’t get enough air. It was as though the walls were closing in, the room getting smaller and smaller. She didn’t want to leave. She liked her life here. The palazzo, the village...they were just starting to feel like home.
She should have known it wouldn’t last. Steven’s shadow was destined to follow her everywhere. For the rest of her life, she would be punished for falling in love with the wrong man.
“...you’re doing?” A giant crash followed the question. The sound of tinkling glass forced Louisa to her feet. Running to the terrace door, she peered around the corner of the door frame in time to see Nico dragging a stranger across the terrace toward the wall. The crash she’d heard was her breakfast table, which now lay on its side, the top shattered.
“Hey, what do you think you’re doing?” she heard the stranger gasp. “This is my exclusive.”
“Exclusive this,” Nico growled. Holding the man’s collar in one hand, he yanked the expensive camera the man carried from around his neck and hurled it over the wall.
“Bastard! You’re going to pay for that.”
“Be glad it was only your camera.” Nico yanked the man to his feet only to shove him against the railing. “Now get out. And if I ever see your face in the village again, you’ll find out exactly what else I’m capable of breaking, understand?” He shoved the man a second time, with a force that made Louisa, still hidden behind the door frame, jump. Whatever the reporter said must have satisfied him, and Nico released his grip on the man’s shirt. Louisa stepped back as the man started toward the stairs.
“Where are you going?” Nico asked, his hand slapping down on the man’s shoulder. “Leave the way you came in.”
“Are you kidding? That’s a five-foot drop.”
“Then I suggest you brace yourself when you land.” The two men stared at one another for several seconds. When it became obvious Nico wasn’t backing down, the reporter hooked a leg over the railing.
“I’m calling my lawyer. You’re going to pay for that camera.”
“Call whoever you’d like. I’ll be glad to explain how I’m calling the police to report you for trespassing on private property. Now are you leaving, or shall I throw you over that railing?”
The reporter did what he was told, disappearing over the rail. Slowly Louisa stepped into the light. Nico’s shoulders were rising and falling in agitated breaths, making her almost afraid to speak. “Is he gone?” she asked in a soft voice.
“Is he the first one?” he asked, voice rough.
He turned, and the dark fury Louisa saw on his face had her swallowing hard to keep the nerves from taking over her throat. She nodded. “I think so.”
“He was climbing over the wall when I got here. Probably saw your terrace door was open and thought he could catch you up close and off guard.”
“In Boston, they preferred using telephoto lenses.”
“You’re not in Boston anymore.”
“I know.” She should have realized how ruthless the press would be. After all, this was Italy; they’d invented the word paparazzi.
“At least you won’t have to worry about this one trespassing again. That is, if he’s smart.”
“Thanks.”
“Can’t promise there won’t be more, though,” he said brushing past her. “You’d best be prepared.”
More. He was right, there would be others. It was all she could do not to collapse in a heap where she stood. Those months of hiding in Boston had nearly destroyed her. She wasn’t up to another go-round. The stranger on her terrace was proof enough of that. If Nico hadn’t shown up when he did...
Why had he shown up? Returning to her living room, where she found her neighbor searching through the bookshelf cabinets. “What are you doing?”
“Carlos kept a stash of fernet tucked in back of one of these cabinets. Do you still have it?”
“Two doors to the left.” She hadn’t gotten around to finding a better location. “I meant why are you here?”
“Dani called me. She saw the news on television.”
“Let me guess, she’s horrified to find out who she’s been friends with and wants me to stay away so I won’t drag the restaurant into it.” Seeing the same darkness on Nico’s face that she’d seen a few moments ago, it would seem her neighbor felt the same way.
“What? No. She and Rafe are trying to figure out what’s going on. A reporter came to the restaurant asking questions.” He paused while he pulled a dust-covered bottle from the cabinet. “She said she tried calling you a half dozen times.”
That explained some of the phone calls then. “I wasn’t answering the phone.”
“Obviously. They asked if I would come over and make sure you were okay. Good thing, too, considering you were about to have an unwanted visitor.”
He filled his glass and drank the contents in one swallow. “This is the point in our conversation where you suggest that I’m an unwanted visitor.”
“What can I say? I’m off my game today.” She sank into her corner and watched as Nico drank a second glass. When he finished, he sat the empty glass on a shelf and turned around. He wore a much calmer expression now. Back in control once again.
“Why didn’t you say anything about your former husband?” he asked.
And say what? My ex is Steven Clark. You know, the guy who ran the billion-dollar investment scam. I’m the wife who turned him in. Maybe you’ve read about me? They call me Luscious Louisa? She plucked at the piping on one of the throw pillows. “The idea was to make a fresh start where no one knew anything about me,” she replied.”
“You know how unrealistic that is in this day and age?”
“I managed it for nine months, didn’t I?” She offered up what she hoped passed for a smile. Nine wonderful months. Almost to the point where she’d stopped looking over her shoulder.
When
