Talia glanced at her cell phone in the darkened hotel room. It was just before six in the morning. So much for a good night’s sleep. She’d been awake since three and had only managed to doze on and off since then. And she’d desperately needed the rest. Her body felt exhausted from both the lack of sleep and the stress. But her mind hadn’t been able to stop running. Too much had changed over the past twenty-four hours. Including having Joe Bryant in her life.
Sitting across from him in the quiet atmosphere the night before had given her a few minutes to almost forget why they were here. Almost. But nothing could erase the events of the day.
It was impossible not to bring up the past. Doing so was like pulling the scab off an old wound. It hurt. And just when she’d begun to feel as if she could stop running and move on with her life.
With someone like Joe.
She dismissed the surprising thought and stared up at the now familiar ceiling. When she hadn’t been sleeping, she’d been praying. Or worrying. She was worried about her sister. Worried about the threats against her own life. Worried about what would happen if she couldn’t find the paintings.
Her mother used to remind her not to worry. That today’s troubles were enough without adding to them. But she’d always struggled putting that advice into practice.
You know my struggles, God. But I have no idea how to deal with this situation. No idea how not to worry.
Her faith had wavered after Thomas had died. She’d kept praying. Kept trying to find answers when there didn’t seem to be any. She’d gone to church, hardly missing a service, but at the same time she couldn’t help but wonder how she’d ended up where she was. She’d prayed before marrying him and thought she was doing the right thing. When she found out who he really was it was impossible to deny she’d made such a big mistake. It didn’t seem possible that she hadn’t even known him at all. She knew that now.
And it was that knowledge that had made her cautious over falling in love again. Having someone like Joe show up and come to her rescue like a knight in shining armor didn’t change anything. Not really. She couldn’t let it.
Her phone rang, and her heart took another nosedive, as she worried it was going to be more bad news. She fumbled to find it in the dark on the table beside the bed.
“Joe?”
“Hey...did I wake you?”
“No. Is everything okay?”
“Yes. I’ve just been laying here half the night.”
“I haven’t been able to sleep either,” she said.
“Had a feeling I wasn’t the only one. I know it’s early, but I could use a walk and a bit of fresh air.”
“I can be ready in ten.”
He was right about the fresh air. Fifteen minutes later, she was walking down the streets of Florence, thankful for both the crisp morning and a new perspective. And for the moment, it was almost possible to pretend she was nothing more than a guide giving a private tour of the city.
“I told you it was even more beautiful in the daylight. One of my favorite cities all wrapped up in incredible architecture, history and art. And then there’s the bridges, the cobblestone sidewalks and the food.”
“When did you first come here?”
“I was seven, maybe eight. My sister always preferred science to history, but I couldn’t get enough of my father’s stories. He was a history professor, and loved talking about how the Medicis used to walk across the bridge up ahead, the Ponte Vecchio, from their palace to their offices, to ensure they didn’t mix with the commoners. More than six hundred years of history. It’s almost impossible to comprehend, but then you think about the birthplace of the Renaissance, the final resting place of Galileo, Ghiberti and Michelangelo. So many incredible things happened right here.”
“I think I would have enjoyed meeting him.”
“And I think he would have liked you, as well.”
She felt a blush cross her cheeks at the implication, then couldn’t help but look up at him. Strong jawline, deep brown eyes. He was staring out across the water, soaking up Florence’s beauty. The breeze off the Arno River was perfect, especially knowing that in a few hours the heat from the summer sun would be radiating off the old stone paving.
She glanced away. He reminded her of Thomas. Of the things she’d first fallen in love with. His strength. His love for justice. His fight to make the world a better place. Beyond that, though, the similarities ended.
Not that she was comparing.
She turned away and focused her attention back to the scene in front of them. Four rowers skimmed across the water in perfect unison in their quad scull. A white gull soared across the top of the water. She never got tired of the old bridges scattered throughout Europe. London’s Tower Bridge, Pont Neuf in Paris and the Ponte Vecchio right here in Florence. She glanced once more at Joe. And the man standing next to her simply added to the peace of the moment. Even if it was the calm before the next storm hit.
“I wonder if they’re training,” she asked, taking her thoughts back in check. “The rowers, I mean.”
“Believe it or not, I actually dreamed of getting to the Olympics.”
“Really?” She glanced up at him, thankful for the distraction from her thoughts. “What sport?”
“I was a long-distance runner in high school and college and loved it. I decided to see if I could make it to the Olympic team trials, but in the end, I missed the qualifying mark by a second.”
“Yikes. That had to be tough to swallow.”
“It was. At first. But then I realized that while it would have been an incredible experience, it would have pretty much engulfed my life, and I wasn’t sure I was willing to give everything up for it.”
“And you decided on the FBI?”
“Not at first. At that point, I just knew I was going to go into a branch of law enforcement. My grandfather was a police officer for thirty years and my father is a firefighter. I ended up graduating with a degree in criminology, and then at twenty-three I decided to apply for the FBI. What about you? Do you ever have any huge dreams?”
She stopped along the stone wall running parallel to the river and watched the gull swoop up something to eat. “I’ve always wanted see my art in a big gallery in some European city. But after studying all the masterpieces, it makes you feel pretty small. This is the city where I took classes and studied the frescoes in the historic center. It was an incredible experience that I wouldn’t trade for the world, even if my art never gets into any of the galleries.”
“I’d still like to see some of your work.”
She started walking again. It had been a long time since she’d pulled out any of her pieces. “Maybe one day.”
She liked the idea that they’d see each other after all of this was over. Because he was the kind of man she’d like to spend the rest of her life with. Except hadn’t she thought the same thing with Thomas? He’d come in and swept her off her feet. She’d fallen in love with him, but now...his betrayal had changed everything. Which meant it really didn’t matter what her heart felt. She knew that any feelings she thought she was feeling were nothing more than a recipe for disaster. And a place her heart shouldn’t want to go.
Her foot hit an uneven spot in the pavement and twisted her ankle. She grabbed on to his arm in order to catch her balance. He caught her, and ran his arm around her waist to steady her.
“Sorry.”
She rested her hand against his chest for a moment, then quickly pulled it away.
“You okay?” he asked.
“Yeah, I’m fine. I just...”
She didn’t finish her sentence. She was close enough she could feel his breath against her cheek. He was close enough to kiss her. She ducked her head, then stepped back, her heart racing at his nearness.
He shook his head. “I’m sorry. You’d think I already learned my lesson.”
“What do you mean?”
“Nothing... We probably should go get ready to catch the train.”
They started walking again, but something about the morning had lost its charm.
“Who was she?”
He frowned at her question. “Who said it was a she?”
“No one, but I don’t know...it sounded personal.”
“Let’s just say I learned never to mix business with pleasure. No matter how intense the situation becomes.”
“So she was someone you rescued?” She was probing, and she probably shouldn’t, but she couldn’t help it. “Someone involved in one of your cases.”
“Yeah, but it was a long time ago.”
She wanted to ask more. Wanted to know who she’d been. Had he loved her? Had she betrayed him? But she wasn’t going to. She had her own past to wrestle with.
Aside from Thomas’s betrayal, she knew what it was like to love someone and worry about him going out on the job every day. She never again wanted to experience not knowing if the person she loved was going to come home at night. Or receiving the call saying that he wouldn’t.
* * *
Joe wanted to kick himself as they turned down another side street toward the river and their hotel. He’d come so close to kissing her. He’d wanted to kiss her, and yet he’d meant what he said. He had no business mixing business with pleasure. And he certainly had no desire to talk about Natasha.
He turned his attention to his surroundings where there was already a busy mixture of locals and tourists. Cars and mopeds rushed by. The last thing he needed right now was a distraction. He pushed away any fleeting feelings of attraction. He knew better. Not that he believed she was involved in a crime, like Natasha was. But even that didn’t matter.
He knew how things worked. She might be innocent in this situation, but when all this was over he’d never see her again. He wasn’t her knight in shining armor, sweeping into save the day. He was an FBI agent looking to take down a thief and the person who murdered his brother. Nothing more. Nothing less.
The sharp crack of a gunshot jerked him out of his thoughts.
Joe reacted automatically. “Talia, get down! Now.”
He thought the shot had come from behind him, but he couldn’t be certain. With a brick wall running along the river to their right and an open street to their left, they were sitting ducks. He grabbed Talia’s hand and started running. In an outdoor situation, the best response was to look for both cover and distance, with the goal being to put as much distance between the shooter and the target.
And he was certain they were the target.
“Joe...” She squeezed his fingers as they ran. “Joe—you’ve been hit.”
He glanced down at the trail of blood that was spreading across the sleeve of his T-shirt and running down his arm. Another few inches to the left, and he wouldn’t still be standing. But there was no time to go through what could have happened. “It doesn’t matter.”
Not now. Adrenaline masked the pain. All he could feel was his heart racing and the fierce determination of getting her to safety.
The street was in a state of confusion. Those who had heard the shot were running for cover. Others didn’t even react. Cars continued to drive through the intersection, unaware of what was going on, which meant they had to run through oncoming traffic in order to get to any semblance of safety.
There was another shot and the sound of glass shattering one of the windows of a car behind them. The shots were coming from northwest of them, but he still couldn’t locate the shooter.
“We need to find cover. Don’t stop running.”