The P.I.

“It’s the kissing that starts it. We’d better not kiss again until this is over. Agreed?”

Kit met her eyes. “What I’ll agree to is that you can make the call. If we kiss again and make love again, it’ll be your decision.” He watched her draw in a deep breath and let it out. She was a complicated woman, his Drew. Part of her was cautious and practical, but there was a part of her that would take a risk when it was warranted. Fascinating. He wouldn’t make the first move no matter what it cost him. It wasn’t sitting well with him that he’d taken her in an alley with two thugs looking for them.

“Time to go.” He picked up her helmet and buckled it beneath her chin before donning his own. A fast ride was just what he needed to settle the emotions roiling through him.

He glanced up to see that she was still hesitating. Kit managed a grin. “C’mon. Look on the bright side. After what we just did to each other, I’m thinking this little ride will be anticlimactic.”

“You’re sure you don’t have some kind of premonition that we’re going to end up as roadkill?”

At her dry tone, his grin became genuine. “Nope. All I can see in the future right now is getting you to my place, pouring us two glasses of a very nice wine and fixing us the best omelet you’ve ever had. How does that sound?”

She shook her helmeted head. “You may not be as psychic as you think. What I’m envisioning is a quick stop at the hospital so that you can check on your friend. He may have regained consciousness by now.”

Kit was moved that she would suggest it. “It could be risky. Those goons in the van got a good look at you at the church, and we still don’t know who’s behind this. I don’t want to put you—”

“You think someone in Roman’s family might be behind this?”

“No. But I don’t want to take chances.”

“Look. I’m wearing Philly’s clothes, and I spotted a baseball cap in the compartment you stuffed the tote into. I’ll push my hair into that.”

He studied her for a moment. “Okay, but once we get to the hospital, I want you to do what I tell you, okay?”

“Okay.”

As soon as she was settled behind him, her hands on his waist, he started the bike, pointed it at the far end of the alley and then opened up the throttle.

11

ANY THOUGHT Drew had of sitting primly behind Kit and keeping her hands on his waist for balance disappeared the moment they hit the first bump. After that, she wrapped her arms around him, shut her eyes and held on for dear life. Helena had said he was a competent man, she reminded herself as he pumped up the speed. Big, strong. And she’d experienced his exceptional competency in one area.

No, she was not going to think about making love with him again. But it was a tough resolution to stick to when she could feel his warmth through the thin T-shirt, feel his muscles bunch and then relax as he increased the speed.

Another bump set her adrenaline pumping and she sent up a little prayer that Kit Angelis had a fast learning curve when it came to the bike. After all, he was Greek. Hopefully, that meant he was a natural athlete. The Olympics had begun in Athens, right?

She heard the blast of a horn, a squeal of brakes and opened one eye in time to see Kit slice between two taxis, shoot around a truck and execute a smooth turn onto the embarcadero. Okay. He could steer pretty good, she decided. But in spite of that and the little pep talk she was giving herself, the lump of fear in her throat only dissolved when three more blocks had gone by and they were both still upright on the bike. Was she always such a nervous Nellie? she wondered.

But then, she hadn’t let nerves deter her from making love to him. So far she hadn’t exhibited any will power with regard to him. And was it any wonder? He was a beautiful man on so many levels and he wanted her. In spite of the trouble she was in. In spite of the fact that he didn’t know anything about her.

When they stopped at the first traffic light, she drew in oxygen and forced herself to loosen the death grip she had on Kit just a little.

He turned. “You’re safe. I could drive this little honey forever now that I’ve gotten the feel of it.”

She’d gotten the feel of it, too, she realized. Not only that, she was beginning to like sitting behind Kit on the bike with the steady thrum of the motor beneath them.

She was still pondering that when he zipped the bike into the parking lot at the hospital and turned into an empty slot. She was off the bike and looking through the little trunk for the baseball hat when he stilled her hand. “I don’t think that anyone here poses a threat to you, but once we get inside, I don’t want anyone to know that we’re together. You hang loose, but stay in my sight. Can you do that?”

“Sure.”

Kit moved fast then, striding through the sliding doors to the lobby. Drew hung back, entering after Kit was already at the information desk. The lobby was clean, well lit and sparsely populated. She guessed that visiting hours were long over. She let Kit and a nurse enter the elevator before she followed.

When the doors opened on the fifth floor, a glassed-in waiting room was directly in front of them. She moved to a nearby water fountain and watched as Kit approached a distinguished-looking man with gray hair and a meticulously trimmed mustache. Roman’s father? A taller man, younger and dark haired, stood next to him. Both were wearing suits and ties as if they’d just stepped out of a business meeting. There were others in the waiting room—a stunningly beautiful woman sat on a sofa with a young man sitting beside her. In a corner, a policeman raised his head from a newspaper to watch Kit as the older man wrapped him in a bear hug.

Realizing that she was staring, Drew moved into the waiting room and sank into the closest seat. The policeman glanced at her and then away. Kit and the two other men were speaking in low voices now. She could only catch a word here and there, but the tone wasn’t good. A TV hung from the ceiling in one corner and she spotted the newswoman Kit had spoken to earlier on the steps of St. Peter’s church. The volume was low, but the banner headline at the bottom of the screen was clear: Murder and Mayhem at a Wedding.

KIT KNEW EVEN as he approached Roman’s father that the news wasn’t good. Mario Oliver looked as if he’d aged ten years since Kit had last seen him. He recognized the other man as Michael Dano, who’d worked closely with Roman for the past three years. Dano, if Kit recalled correctly, headed up the legal department at Oliver Enterprises. So Sadie must work with him now.

Beyond them, he saw Roman’s beautiful new stepmother, Deanna Mancuso Oliver, sitting on a couch with her son, Eddie. Kit knew from Roman that Deanna was in her late thirties, but she looked even younger, not nearly old enough to be the mother of a twenty-year-old son.

“Welcome, Kit.” Mario hugged him, then gripped both of his hands.

“How is he?” Kit asked. “Can I see him?”

“Come.” Mario led the way out of the waiting room and down the corridor. There was an officer at the door, but he made no move to stop them as they entered the room.

Roman was lying on the bed, his eyes closed. So still—that was the thought that moved through Kit’s mind. Roman had always been so athletic, so active. If Kit hadn’t known it was Roman, he might not have recognized his friend.

His face was pale, his head bandaged and he was hooked up to a series of monitors and tubes. Nik had said it was bad, but somehow Kit hadn’t allowed himself to fully take that in—until now.

Please, let him be all right. The words repeated themselves in his mind as he moved closer to the bed and reached out to cover Roman’s hand with his own. Please.

Kit was vaguely aware that Mario had followed him. When he felt the older man’s hand on his shoulder, he whispered the question that was foremost in his mind. “Will he be all right?”

“The doctors are hopeful.” Mario also spoke in a soft voice as he drew Kit away from the bed. “He has a skull fracture, so they’re monitoring him closely. They’re more concerned about the swelling at the base of the spine. If it doesn’t go down by tomorrow, they’re going to have to operate. In the meantime, they’re keeping him sedated. They don’t want him to move.”

“Did he regain consciousness? Does he know what happened?”

“No,” Mario said, “he hasn’t come around yet.”

After glancing at Roman again, Kit asked Mario, “Have you heard from Juliana or Sadie?”

“No.” Mario’s eyes narrowed. “Why do you ask? I haven’t been able to reach them. Neither one is answering their cell phones. The police won’t tell me a thing, but they’re all over the place. I’ve got a couple of people trying to get me some information and I’ve got a call into the commissioner. Do you know what the hell is going on?”

For the first time, Kit noticed that Michael Dano had entered the room. Mario must have sensed something because he said, “It’s all right. You can speak in front of Michael.”

“No one told you about the wedding?”

Mario’s eyes narrowed. “Wedding?”

As concisely as he could, Kit told them everything he knew about Juliana and Paulo’s secret wedding plans and about the shootings at the church. The only thing he left out was the fact that he was working for the mystery woman.