Run To Rome
“Oh.”
He tucked the pack back in his pocket, took a drag, fought a cough, and exhaled.
Show time.
Halli watched Trent reach for the door, her pulse pumping in permanent overdrive—pretty much since the moment she’d met him. At the last second, she put her hand over his on the door knob.
“Just don’t smile, okay?”
He looked at her like she was crazy. “You’re upset, you’ve just told me you’re pregnant and your father will kill me if he finds out. Why on earth would I smile?”
Great, now she felt like an idiot. “I don’t know. I just thought you should know your smile is very recognizable.”
His lips curved into the exact smile she’d seen countless times over the past ten years. His perfect, white, famous smile. “Thanks for the reminder.” The smile disappeared in the blink of an eye. “Now start crying.”
She took a deep breath as he opened the door. Trent’s immediate stream of fluent, dramatic Italian threw her for a moment, but she focused on the part he’d asked her to play. Fear of never seeing Ben and Rachel again and of getting caught by the man from the villa welled real tears in her eyes. A blink spilled them over the edge of her lashes, down her face. She added a soft sob when Trent put an arm around her and drew her close.
Because she didn’t understand a word he said, all she could do was cry, her face buried against his chest while he led her toward the exit. The strong scent of bleach from the coveralls filled her nostrils. He’d smelled better in the car.
Voices from one of the upcoming corridors robbed her of any smidgeon of security his embrace gave her. She tensed. Trent’s hold tightened, but he didn’t stop talking or walking
. Smoke curled in front of her from the cigarette in his hand by her shoulder. She lifted her hands to cover her face and sobbed harder.
Trent’s lips pressed to her ear as two officers walked by. “Not so damn loud.”
She toned it down. A moment later, his other hand cupped her cheek. He halted and lifted her face to his, his thumb swiped across her skin to remove the moisture.
What was he doing? Why was he stopping? They had to keep moving.
Italian words spilled from his mouth, full of heartfelt emotion to match a glowing intensity in his hazel eyes. Halli’s heart skipped a beat.
“Shake your head no,” he whispered.
She blinked. From the corner of her eye, she noticed the men who’d passed them paused halfway along the corridor to watch their drama. She did as Trent instructed and restarted the waterworks for good measure. He hugged her close again, spouted more foreign lines with a consoling accent, and steered her for the door.
The white little running man on the exit sign near the door beckoned.
Halli fought not to run the last ten feet. Almost there. They were going to make it. Just walk right out. She couldn’t believe it was as easy as he’d said. Then she noticed another sign posted on the door and tried to slow their steps.
“That looks like a warning of some kind,” she whispered to Trent.
“It’s for an alarm.” He urged her forward. “But it’s—”
Halli sucked in a breath and planted her feet.
“—not activated.”
“How do you know?” she asked in desperation.
“How do you think I got in here?”
Trent reached around her and pushed open the door. Halli cringed, eyes squeezed tight, expecting an ear-piercing warning to announce their escape.
Silence.
She opened her eyes again and breathed. No alarm. The sun was still shining, though it had started its evening decent in the brilliant blue sky. She sniffed away any remaining tears and turned to smile up at Trent from underneath the baseball cap.
A shout behind them wiped away her exhilaration a second before Trent’s rough shove propelled her the rest of the way through the open doorway.