Run To Rome

She dropped to the floor of the boat as he steered with his left hand, gun palmed in his right, prepared for whatever trouble accelerated their way.

You’d think she’d get used to this; that after the third or fourth time of unexpected danger the instant surge of fear wouldn’t seize her lungs and make her heart thump in her chest.

But she wasn’t used to it at all.

The approaching boat never slowed. It zoomed past, trailing laughter in its wake. Trent stood in front of the captain’s chair, sweeping his gaze around their perimeter before staring in the direction of the fading boat engine. His shoulders relaxed and he put the gun back in the drink holder. “Just a bunch of kids out for a joyride. Sorry I scared you.”

Halli wanted to col

lapse onto her back and let the overwhelming relief wash over her. In the blink of an eye, exhaustion slammed into her consciousness. She’d gotten maybe a half hour nap at Trent’s house and as the adrenaline drained from her muscles, her body emphatically told her a half hour wasn’t near enough. But instead of succumbing to the weariness, she picked herself up and focused on something else.

“You’re pretty familiar with that gun.”

Ooh, there you go, distract yourself by asking about the gun.

Trent’s gaze shifted to the sleek black weapon. “I’ve handled my share.”

“You said you didn’t do stuff like this on a regular basis.”

“At the shooting range, my dear, and on set. You’ve seen my movies.”

Every single one. More than twice. Not that she’d tell him that. She pretended to think about it before shrugging her shoulders. “Maybe I do remember a gun or two in the trailers.”

“Trailers?” He frowned over at her. “Yeah, right. You called me Shain when we first met. You don’t pick up something like that from trailers.”

“They played them a lot.” She headed for the cabin.

“Hey—where you going? We’re not done—”

“There’s a boat. Eleven o’clock.”

“Dammit.” He jerked his attention back to the water and she went below deck with a grin tugging at her lips.

Out of nowhere, a particular page in his journal flashed through her thoughts. The one that revealed his sensitivity to his father’s dissatisfaction in Trent’s work. The choppy, nearly illegible writing and raw emotions on the page testified to how much his father’s lack of respect bothered him.

She cringed, sighed, and vowed not to tease him about it in the future. Easy enough, considering their future together ended tomorrow.

Disappointment returned, sharper than before. And what if something happened to him during his search for evidence that his brother had been murdered?

Something more jagged than disappointment grabbed hold of her heart. Halli sank down on the bench seat near the half-stove and mini-sink.

Oh, no. She cared.

Not in the general sense that he was another human being and she wouldn’t want something bad to happen to another person, but in a far more personal sense. Somewhere over the course of this crazy day, she’d come to specifically care what happened to him.

Darn it all. What part of movie star and unattainable did her brain not understand?

She shot to her feet and paced four steps across the small cabin. There was nothing to understand. She wasn’t looking to attain anyone. Geez. What was wrong with her?

Maybe she could chalk it up to the day she’d had. Or Stockholm Syndrome. It was a proven fact some kidnap victims identified with and became attached to their kidnappers or they wouldn’t have named it, would they have?

A quick spin and four more steps returned her to the other side of the boat. Okay, so she knew the real reason he’d tossed her in his car, and it was kind of heroic, and even a little romantic after the fact, but all of that was beside the point. She’d still been kidnapped. That’s the part she must be responding to.

Then again, so what if she cared? Every once in awhile, between macho and jerk, she caught a glimpse of the good guy who’d written in the journal. It wasn’t a bad thing for her to want that guy to remain safe on his quest to find justice for his brother. After all, he was going to take her to Milan to be reunited with her own family.

She paused in front of the tiny kitchen area. Might not hurt to make the man something to eat, either. He’d been hungry before, now he was wounded, too. He’d need to eat to keep up his strength. Besides, it was the least she could do after he’d taken a bullet for her. Well, not literally for her, but he’d been protecting her when he’d gotten shot.

You and the video, a negative voice whispered in her mind.