Passion (In Wilde Country 2)

“All you need to know is this,” he said, and he bent his head to hers and kissed her.

He had kissed her before. To offer her comfort. To show her his passion. He had kissed her because she was beautiful and sweet.

This was different.

This kiss was about the two of them. One man, one woman, and a situation that had compressed weeks into days, days into hours. It was about not having the time to get to know each other, to pace their emotions, to ease into a relationship.

Most of all, the kiss was a question.

Did she feel what he felt?

She whispered his name against his mouth, and he had his answer.

The phone rang.

He drew back. Ariel touched her hand to his face. He kissed her fingers, ran to the booth and grabbed the phone.

“Took your time getting to the phone,” Caleb said.

Matteo nodded, as if the other man could see him.

“I had something important to do.”

Caleb laughed as if he’d read Matteo’s mind. “You’re in deep,” he said, “with the woman.”

“Her name is Ariel,” Matteo said. “And yes, if it’s any of your business, I am.”

“Whoa. Take it easy, dude. “

“Hell. I’m sorry. It’s just that—that she matters to me.”

“Yeah. I got that feeling.” Caleb paused. “Okay,” he said, his tone strictly business. “I’d hoped the place you’re at sold pre-paid phones, but it doesn’t.”

“What?”

“The store there. It doesn’t sell—”

“How do you know that?”

“Did you ever hear of Google?”

“Sure, but—”

“It’s not the only search engine in the world, Matteo. There are a couple that are far more sophisticated.”

“Like?”

Caleb chuckled. “Like, if I told you their names, I’d have to kill you.”

At this point, Matteo believed it.

“Bottom line, you can’t buy pre-paids until Speculator.”

“Caleb. Do me a favor. Start speaking English. Or try Italian. Just speak in a language I can understand.”

Another chuckle.

“Okay. In English. Do you have a map?”

“Uh, yeah. I have a map.”

“Are you looking at it?”

“No. It’s in the car.”

“Get it. And, by the way, that was a smart move. Dumping that cell phone.”

Matteo laughed. It seemed the only appropriate reaction.

“Go get that map.”

Matteo ran to the car, signaled for Ariel to put down the window. Reached in, grabbed the map from the console and, what the hell, dropped a fast kiss on her mouth before racing back to the booth.

“Okay. I’ve got the map.”

“I’m going to give you some coordinates. Find where they intersect.”

Caleb gave him the coordinates. Matteo followed them.

“Got it,” he said. “It’s a town called… Aha. Speculator.”

“That’s your destination. You’re only a few miles away. When you get there, park in the lot outside the post office. You’ll see a grocery store. Go in and buy a couple of pre-paid phones.”

“Because you’re sure the store sells them,” Matteo said, deadpan.

“Absolutely sure. Buy them, take them out to the car, and call Zach.”

“Zach?”

“Zach. Jaimie’s husband.”

“I know who you mean, but why Zach?”

“You’re on the run with a woman who needs protection. More than that, you’re involved with her. Am I right?”

Matteo hesitated. What the fuck. What was the point in denying it?

“Yes.”

“Well, Zach’s been there, done that. It’s how he and Jaimie got started. My expertise is… It’s not in that area. You have a pen and paper?”

“Uh, no.”

“How’s your memory?”

“It’s fine,” Matteo said in bewilderment.

“Good. I’m gonna give you Zach’s number. Memorize it. Before you call him, get yourself something to take notes with.”

“Will do.”

“Okay. Here’s the number.”

Caleb rattled it off. Repeated it. Asked Matteo to repeat it, three times. Then he paused.

“Last question. The guy after you… Who is he? What has he threatened to do? I’m assuming divorce is no longer the issue.”

Matteo’s hand tightened on the phone.

“He wants to silence her. Ariel. The divorce thing, wanting my advice on that, was only a ploy. What he really wanted was for me to help him put her away. I called him on it. The next day, he stormed into my office, angry as hell. Apparently, she’d run away.”

“Apparently?”

Matteo rubbed his hand over his forehead.

“Did I mention she has amnesia?”

“Am…?” Caleb snorted. “You sure you’re not writing a script for a soap?”

“Yeah,” Matteo said, with a little laugh, “don’t I wish.”

“So she has amnesia, but she remembered you and contacted you.”

“No. She was in an accident. She had my business card in her pocket. The hospital contacted me and I—”

“And you went to the hospital and got her the hell out of there and now you think the accident might not have been an accident at all, right?” Caleb didn’t wait for an answer. “You sure you haven’t spent any time in my former business, dude? What else? Has he made any threats directly to her or to you?”

“He phoned me. He said he’d take care of us both.” Matteo hesitated. “I know this all sounds melodramatic, but he means business. His family had some dark connections in Sicily. I don’t think he’d give a minute’s thought to killing us and, goddammit, I cannot, I will not let anything happen to her!”

“No,” Caleb said calmly, “of course you won’t. Does this guy have a name?”

“His name is Tony Pastore. Anthony Pastore. He’s—”

“Shit! I know who he is. He’s a racketeer. Mob connected. He’s skirted what should have been a couple of murder charges.”

“I didn’t know that, but I have to admit, I’m not surprised.”

“Okay,” Caleb said. “You get your ass to Speculator. Buy the pre-paids, call Zach. He’ll be waiting. Clear?”

“Clear,” Matteo said, and then he said, “Caleb? Thank you.”

He could almost see Caleb’s smile.

“Hey, that’s what family’s for, dude. To give each other a hand. Right?”

“Right,” Matteo said, the word coming out just a little thick and rough.

“Good luck.”

“Right,” Matteo said again, and ended the call.

CHAPTER TWELVE

&nb

sp; Speculator was a small, snow-covered village nestled within the mountains.

“Pretty,” Matteo said. “Kind of like a greeting card.”

“It’s beautiful!” Ariel looked at him, eyes bright. “There was a snowstorm once, when I visited my grandparents over Christmas, and my grandfather took me to buy a sled and we drove through a town that looked just like…” She caught her breath and stared at Matteo. “Oh,” she said shakily, “oh…”.

“Easy.”

“That’s the second time I thought of them,” she whispered.

“Anything else?”

She screwed up her face. A minute dragged by. Then she puffed out her breath. “Nothing else. Just that drive through the snow.”

“That’s a lot.”

“It isn’t anything! It’s—it’s just a disjointed piece of—of stuff.”

“It’s a start. The dance company. Your grandparents. A drive through the snow. Your memory’s coming back, and it’s happening faster and faster.”

“Not fast enough,” she said in a small voice.

He understood.

She wanted to remember everything. And he wanted that for her.

She had questions about the past.

By now, so did he.

He was absolutely certain Tony had fed him nothing but lies. There wasn’t anything wrong with Ariel that a little love and care couldn’t cure. She wasn’t mentally ill, or addicted to drugs. She was a woman any man would be proud to call his.

His jaw tightened.

And that was the downside of her memory returning.

The man who called her his was Tony Pastore, and how could that be?

“…next?”

He’d missed half of what she’d said. Focus, he told himself, dammit, focus! Or you won’t get her through this.

“Sorry. What did you say?”

“I said, what are we supposed to do next?”

“Find the post office,” he said briskly. “Caleb said there’s a store right next to it where we can buy phones.”

Seconds later, her voice rang out.

“There’s the post office.”

Matteo signaled and pulled into the parking lot. Yes. There was the post office, and the grocery market.

“Okay. Now we go inside the market, buy prepaid phones, and then I call Zach.” He turned off the engine and looked at Ariel. “Are you all right now?” he asked softly.

She nodded. “Yes.”