Run To Rome

Lapaglia’s last comment finally gave Ben another clue as to Trent Tomlin’s connection. Had the Italian been involved in Sean Tomlin’s suicide that’d been all over the news a few months ago? The possibility wasn’t a stretch; Ben wouldn’t put anything past the bastard.

Eva moved to stand in front of him. It was just the two of them in the room now, not that he’d complain. She was something else. And a hell of a lot easier on his swollen eye than Zucchi. His hands were losing feeling from lack of circulation and he rotated them as best he could within his bindings. He was rewarded with a slight tingling in his fingertips.

“So…will you get a cut of that million dollar ransom he just demanded?”

His question caught her off guard. Confusion and uncertainty clouded her eyes, but she recovered with determined, “Si.”

“Damn. I was still kinda hoping you’d help me.”

“I have helped.”

He gave a short laugh. “Oh, right, I’m sorry. Thanks for that ice pack so my eye won’t be so swollen when they kill me. All the easier to stare down the barrel of the gun with.”

“Sarcasm is unattractive.”

Ben tipped his chin. “I apologize again. Maybe our problem is that the definition of help has gotten lost in translation.”

“When Mr. Tomlin pays, you will be free.”

Ben laughed at her choice of words. “If Tomlin pays a million dollars for a complete stranger he’s never even met. Tell me Eva, after all I’ve seen, all I’ve heard, what’s the likelihood I’m still going to get out of this alive?”

She turned around to straighten one of the pillows on the bed, but the brief glimpse of her expression gave him an answer without a single word passing her lips. The ball in his stomach knotted tighter.

“Help me.”

The pillow received a thorough fluffing. She thumped the pillow once more and then faced him with her arms crossed under her breasts. He struggled to keep his gaze on her face.

“Are you hungry?” she asked.

Looked like he’d have to approach this a different way. “Are you cooking?”

“Si.”

He curved his sore mouth in a slow smile. “Then yes, I’m hungry.”

Her head tilted. She returned his smile with a dazzling one of her own. “I bet that works when you are not black and blue.”

“You mean it’s not working now?”

She rolled her eyes, but his vision wasn’t so bad that he missed a promising flicker in her eyes just before she turned for the door. If he could just get her on his side, he might have a fighting chance here. He pitched his voice low and husky. “Eva.”

She paused. Pivoted on those toned, sexy legs.

“I can’t feel my fingers anymore.”

Her gaze dropped to the rope securing his hands to the arms of the chair. He wiggled his fingers again to ease the pressure and gain sympathy. The resulting grimace was completely genuine. After a glance at the door, she sighed and returned to his side.

She leaned over to begin loosening the ties on his right wrist. He kept still, hoping she wouldn’t notice his muscles tensed in a play for additional movement within the bindings. A spicy exotic scent that completely fit her enveloped his senses. He drew it into his lungs.

Tough but feminine. Sizzling yet aloof. Erotic and innocent.

Seeking to ground his wavering focus, he said softly, “If it’s about the money, I can pay you.”

She raised her gaze to his. His heart thumped in his chest.

“You said you do not have the money.”

“Not a million dollars, but what I can get you won’t have to share with the other bastards.”