Fire Bound (Sea Haven/Sisters of the Heart 5)

His lungs burned. He knew he couldn't hold his breath long. He'd never been able to swim and he certainly couldn't stay underwater long. His gaze went back to hers. His niece. His Giacinta. Pleading. Trying to tell her he was sorry. Trying to beg. Ordering her. Swearing at her. He didn't dare open his mouth, so he did it all with his eyes.

Then it happened. He couldn't stop it from happening. He inhaled. The water burned in his nose, down his throat to his lungs. He saw Tomasso's hand grip Giacinta hard, yanking her back and away. She resisted for a moment and then they were swimming away, while the water poured into him. He closed his eyes not wanting to watch his last hope swim away.

Lissa tried to keep her mind blank as Casimir kept her swimming away from the car. Twice she tried to turn back. For what, she didn't know. Her uncle had wiped out her family, turned her into a killer and then put out a hit on her. Seeing the desperation in his eyes, the mixture of pain, sorrow, even, maybe love... That had been so difficult. She tried to think of him as a monster, an illusion, not a real man. Not her uncle, the man who had raised her all those years...

She choked and realized she was crying, her tears filling her mask. She wasn't breathing properly for being underwater. Casimir swam close to her, his hand occasionally touching her, brushing along her shoulder or arm, just to let her know he was there. He knew how difficult this task had been. He probably didn't know it would haunt her for years. They all did. Every single one of the lives she'd taken.

Intellectually she knew they deserved to die. Her family wasn't the only family to be killed by the men she'd brought to justice. She even knew she'd saved more lives. That didn't matter when she went to bed at night.

They swam for a long distance, Lissa trying hard to keep her mind from straying back to the car. Casimir had packed her things and her suitcases were in the car waiting. Lissa Piner had to be on a train, on her way to Germany, to her next appointment, before word got out that Luigi Abbracciabene had died in a tragic accident right on the heels of his brother-in-law Aldo's accident. The driver, Tomasso, would never be found. His body either carried away by the sea, or perhaps he was a coward and fled when his boss had been trapped. Either way, the tire marks on the road would attest to the fact that he'd tried hard to keep the vehicle on the road. Once the car was examined, the faulty steering mechanism would be blamed.

Casimir touched her shoulder, indicating to start moving upward. She had left their boat far from where the car would go off the road and into the sea. They were two tourists, a couple, exploring the sea. She obeyed his directive, staying close to him, afraid she would be silly enough to swim back. By now Luigi was dead, drowned in the terrible accident and people had to be aware a car had gone off the road on the winding cliff above. They would be putting together a dive team. She couldn't be anywhere near the car and Luigi.

The moment her head broke the surface, she ripped off the mask and threw it into the boat. Casimir's hands spanned her waist and he nearly tossed her in after her mask. She crawled across the seat, removing the rented tank, and shoved her fist into her mouth, looking at Casimir with stricken eyes.

He took off his tank with slow, deliberate movements she had come to recognize in him. His gaze never left her face. "It's done, malyshka. These are the last tears I want you to shed for a man who doesn't deserve them. I know you're crying for him, not for you. We'll take the boat back, so you have the time it takes to do that to mourn him. After that, never again."

She nodded, although she wasn't certain she could follow his dictate. She understood it. Luigi Abbracciabene, her uncle, was a monster. The man she thought she knew didn't exist. Casimir wanted her to understand the difference. She could cry for a childhood dream. For herself. For her loss. But he didn't want her crying for the man, because that man - the one she thought was good - the one she'd loved - didn't really exist.

She studied Casimir's set jaw as he guided the boat back toward the resort where she'd spent the last few days. He looked invincible, with wide shoulders and a muscular body. He wore his expressionless mask, something he did often out in public, but rarely did when they were alone.

Casimir despised Luigi, and she knew it wasn't just because he'd hurt her. Or even put a hit out on her. It had to do with the things he'd found in the warehouse where Cosmos's wife, Carlotta, had died. He didn't give her details, he hadn't wanted her to know. She knew Luigi was involved in prostitution, but it was far worse than that. She didn't want Casimir to give her specifics. It was hard enough to come to terms with Luigi's betrayal of her family.

Strangely, Casimir's wanting to protect her from that about her uncle, when he could easily have used those details any number of times when she'd burst into tears over Luigi's betrayal of her, made her love Casimir even more. Even now, when the tears ran down her face, he didn't reprimand her.

Looking at her husband, she realized there was no excuse for what Luigi was. What he'd become. His brother had loved him. She had loved him. His parents loved him. He'd had a good childhood. He hadn't seen his parents murdered. He hadn't been ripped apart from his brother. Taken to schools where he and his fellow students were tortured and brutalized to shape them into killing machines. Even Viktor, Casimir's oldest brother, had a code. He was loyal to his family and that included the others he'd gathered around him from his school.

Luigi had become a monster through jealousy and the need to be able to live his perverted lifestyle, the need for power. He was hungry for others to admire and envy him. He needed the constant subjugation of others to make him feel powerful. She suddenly understood the truth. Even had Luigi ascended to the throne of both families, he wouldn't have been satisfied. He would still need more.

Casimir sat quietly, guiding the boat toward the resort, keeping a watchful eye on her. Caring for her. That care was genuine. Every word. Every action. He was a man who had suffered and could easily have become a monster, yet he hadn't.

His eyebrow went up. "What? Golubushka, you cannot look at me like that and not expect a reaction."

She realized the tears had dried up. Luigi Abbracciabene no longer held any sway over her. The man in that car wasn't anyone she knew or cared to know. Her uncle had died years ago, far before her father and mother. She had a life, and that life was the man sitting there looking at her as if she was his entire world.

"How am I looking at you?" she challenged.

"With love." His voice softened along with the hard lines etched deep into his face. "You're looking at me with love. Stark. Raw. For the world to see."

"Maybe that's because I love you like that. Stark. Raw. I don't care if the world sees it or not as long as you do."

"We've got a train to catch, malyshka," he said. "We're going to miss it, you keep looking at me that way."

"You don't like it?" she asked.

He flashed her a small grin. "You know better. You're tempting me on purpose."

She shook her head. "No, not this time. The truth, my amazing husband, is that I was thinking to myself how extraordinary you are and how lucky I am to have you."

His features stilled, went to stone. His eyes went liquid, a beautiful molten silver that held everything she'd ever wanted - or needed. Her heart stuttered. Her stomach did a slow somersault. She rubbed her thumb along the center of her palm, watching his face while she did it.

"We do have a private car, right? On that train? Because you wouldn't guess what I'm thinking right now." She centered her thoughts on his cock. On her mouth. On the delicious things she wanted to do with him.

"You're going to get yourself into trouble," he warned. Shifting his legs restlessly. "I can take us out away from shore and will if you don't stop. We'll be scrambling for another way to Germany."

She laughed, the wind whipping the sound back to them. "Such a missed opportunity."

"I'm not going to miss out," he corrected. "Just delay it until we're on that train."

Lissa stepped off the boat, tied it up and then hurried to her little cottage wh

ile Casimir took care of returning the scuba tanks and boat back to the resort's rental place. She'd already showered and dressed by the time he returned and was scrubbing down the cabin out of habit. After a lifetime of being careful, she wore thin synthetic gloves that had the fingerprints matching Patrice Lungren's identification. She wore her black wig and, unless she was inside, bound her breasts. The only time she didn't was when she was swimming, and then she used a long, shapeless cover-up.

"You have everything?" Casimir asked as he emerged from the bathroom, his jeans carelessly buttoned. He'd left the top button undone and was still barefoot.

"Now who's the tease?" she countered. "Seriously, honey, we've got to get out of here. The cottage is small, so it was easy enough to get things clean. I double-checked the drawers and under the bed, but I lived out of my suitcase. What about your things?"

Casimir had spent every night with her. He'd made appearances as Tomasso at Luigi's house just to see if anyone was talking about Luigi's disappearance. Early that morning he'd gone back and packed up Lissa's room, letting it be known he was taking her to the train station so she could make her next appointment. No one questioned him. They wouldn't. Without direction and figuring they had time off, the other bodyguards had scattered, finding women, drinking and playing hard while they had the chance. They never noticed they didn't actually see Lissa in the house.