“I never thought I’d say it,” Marcus took a deep breath, as if preparing to unload himself of something heavy, “but the past thirteen hours has not been a pain in my ass. Look at you, all mature now.”
Michael hardly heard him. He leaned against the side of the bus, staring ahead of him but seeing nothing. They were making a quick stop at a gas station and while everyone had hurried out of the bus to stretch their legs or grab something to eat, Liz still hadn’t made an appearance.
Next to him, Marcus eagerly lit a cigarette and took a long draw. He blew the smoke away from Michael, knowing well how much he despised the bad habit. It was enough to drag Michael away from his thoughts. “Are you that happy right now?”
Marcus only ever smoked when he was really happy. Luckily, or unluckily, that wasn’t very often. He shrugged, a small smile playing at his lips. “Don’t get me wrong. You made me switch venues last minute to impress your little lady in there, but everything’s been going off without a hitch since you’ve begun. Save for that little disappearing stunt you made in Naples, I think this just might be your most successful tour yet. Why, at your last performance, people who hadn’t been able to secure a ticket were flooding the lobby hoping to hear through the doors. Can you imagine that? If things continue like this, we will have to extend the tour beyond Italy. I’m thinking we hit all of Europe, starting with Spain..”
“She isn’t my little lady.”
Marcus paused in the middle of a long draw. “What?”
“Liz.” He straightened, making his way to the door of the bus. “She isn’t my little lady. If you got to know her, you’d know she isn’t anyone’s. But you’re right. I was trying to impress her. Let’s hope it works.”
Marcus only gave him a curious stare as Michael disappeared inside the vehicle. With everyone gone, it was quiet. Michael made his way to the end of the bus, to the bunk Liz hadn’t left since she entered.
“Liz.” He didn’t wait this time, just went straight in.
She was sitting by the window, arms crossed before her. She didn’t turn at his entrance.
“It’s time we talk about what’s bothering you.” Still no response. Michael came closer. She continued to stare through the window, not bothering to even turn a shoulder in his direction.
Really? She was planning to ignore him? Michael wasn’t the type of guy who dealt well with being ignored.
“Liz.” He touched her shoulder and she jumped. Her eyes darted to him, wide, before they settled nearly instantly.
“Oh,” she breathed. “It’s you.”
Michael frowned at that. She looked okay now, normal, but he hadn’t missed the fright that had seized her entire body. “Who did you think it was?”
“No one,” she said with a shake of her head. “Do you need something?”
Michael took in the crossed arms now facing him, and decided to put the question to the back of his mind. “We didn’t get to finish our earlier talk.”
“I don’t recall there being an earlier talk.”
“Liz, don’t be difficult.” Her brow rose into the air but he went on. “Is it about last night?”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“You don’t? You were there. You saw her.”
Liz only stared at him. Frustrated now, Michael moved away from her. Distance. Distance would help him sort through what he needed to say. “The woman you saw last night—”
“The one with the pearls? What about her?”
“She’s –”
A car honk broke his next words off. He would have ignored it, if Liz hadn’t looked out the window when it sounded. “Sounds like my ride is here.” She looked back at him, impatience stamped across her face now. “You were saying something?”
Michael frowned at her. “What do you mean, your ride?”
“My ride to the hotel I’ll be staying at while I look for Alessandro.”
What? “I thought you were staying with me.”
Liz merely cocked her head to the side. “What gave you that impression?” Before he could respond, she went on, “We slept together, Michael, but that’s it. We aren’t anything more than just two people who had sex. And I only stayed on the bus because it was a free and convenient ride to Venice. But –”
“But you’ve got work to do. Right.” The disappointment that overtook him was staggering, but he managed to keep his shoulders straight and his head high. He moved to the side, sweeping his arm around him. “Well, you can’t leave your ride waiting for too long.”
As if on cue, the car honked again, twice and loud. Liz stared at him, and he held that gaze, refusing to let him see how much his words made her weak in the knees—and not in a good way. Finally, she broke eye contact and got up, picking her bag off the desk, packed and ready to go.
“I’ll see you around, Michael,” she said to him.
Michael didn’t answer. He didn’t have the strength to. After spending only a few days with her, it terrified him to know how much he wanted to ask her to stay. To beg. But he had done enough begging in his past, and it had never gotten him anything but irreparable heartbreak.
She didn’t look back. Michael watched her go, not looking away until she entered the vehicle and the car was pulling away, onto the road, out of sight.
Baglioni Hotel Luna was nearly as beautiful as the last. Liz knew she would have no trouble sleeping deeply, as she had in Sorrento… especially since she didn’t have a blond-haired man to warm her bed.
Shaking her head, she banished all thoughts of Michael. He was the past now, she told herself. She said her goodbyes to him and it wasn’t likely that they were going to run into each other again. Now, it was time to stop thinking about him and focus on what she came here to do.
Liz smiled warmly at the bellboy who handed over her luggage, before closing the door behind her. She leaned against the wooden surface, allowing herself a moment to breathe, to take in the gorgeous, well-spaced room before she hurried over to the nearest set of blinds, drawing them shut. She did that again and again until the room was plunged in semi-darkness and she could hear nothing but her own heavy breathing.
A small part of her hoped that pissed Hunter off. A larger part of her wondered if he was even still watching.
Enough. Alessandro. She needed to find Alessandro. The sooner she did that, the quicker she could get out of Italy.
Her phone rang. Liz checked the caller ID, then prepared herself for the conversation she was about to have. “Harold, you’ve caught me at a bad time.”
“Well whatever it is, pause and tell me what’s happening. You’ve been silent these past few days.”
“Worried about me?”
“Surprisingly, yes,” he admitted. Liz could hear the astonishment in his voice. Harold didn’t admit those things lightly.
“Harold?” Liz sat up a bit straighter. “Did something happen?”
“I should be asking you that. Mr. Grenville called. He’s getting impatient. Says he should have gotten some word on the painting by now. I’m surprised you don’t already have this all wrapped up.”
Liz sagged against the head of the bed. For a second, she had wondered if Harold knew about Hunter. Or Michael. “I don’t think you guys remember this, but finding someone who doesn’t want to be found isn’t really in my purview. It’s taking a bit longer because of that.”
“Some updates would be nice, seeing that our client has the patience of a newborn kitten.”
A chuckle slipped out at the odd comparison. “I didn’t know newborn kittens were impatient.”
“Haven’t you ever seen one? Those things don’t know how to stay still.” Harold paused, letting Liz chuckle a bit more. “Just tell me something so I can get this guy off my back.”
“I’m in Venice now, staying at a different hotel. I found Alessandro’s home, and his workers told me that he’s in Venice visiting a sick relative. Or friend. That’s all I know.”
“That’s good! That’s good. As far as I know, there’s only one hospital in Venice.”
“I know.” She had done enough research while on the tour bus. “I’m heading there now, actually. I just …”
“You just what?”
The words were right on the tip of her tongue. She wanted to tell Harold, to tell someone, but what would he do about it? He would force her on a plane back home, Alessandro and his painting be damned, and she would lose this deal. Potentially the biggest milestone of her career. She couldn’t let that happen. “I’m just tired.”
Harold didn’t respond right away. She waited, tense.
“You?” he said finally. “Tired? I didn’t know you understood the meaning of the word.”
The breath she released was silent and shuddering. “Surprise, surprise. I’m actually human.”
“Don’t let Mr. Grenville’s persistence keep you from getting some sleep. I’ll hold him over as long as I have to. Don’t wear yourself out, Elizabeth.”
“I know.”
She hung up, but his words still echoed in her head. He knew. He didn’t know what was wrong exactly, but he knew something was off. And he hadn’t pressed her, knowing that she would have said something if she felt she needed to. The faith he had in her was more comforting than she expected it to be.
Liz got to her feet. She had work, she told herself for the millionth time. She had things to do. Hunter wasn’t about to come in the way of that.
She didn’t take long washing up, getting all the grime of the bus ride off her skin. She hadn’t wanted to leave the small sleeping area on the bus, and so had decided to forgo the pleasant, yet small bathroom everyone shared. Pulling on another pair of jeans and a comfortable shirt, Liz grabbed her bag and left the room.
The city was filled with bustle. Liz paused at the entrance of the hotel, struck by the rich culture that infused every nook and cranny, every inch of the buildings, every movement of the people that surrounded her. She sighed. The air was heavy with chatter, their language buzzing around her head. She didn’t know much of it, only enough to get her by, but she picked up a few pieces of conversations of people walking by her. The sun overhead seemed to cast a glow on everything it touched. Liz briefly wondered if she was glowing as much as everyone else.
The waterways were the most spectacular part of the city. She had made sure to ask the concierge to call her a boat, knowing it was one of the main ways of getting around in the city. The boat lingered by the bank, a man with a wide smile waving for her to get on. “Signorina Elizabeth?” he asked in his thick accent.
“Si, sono io.” She smiled at him, taking the hand he held out for her and stepped gingerly into the boat. The man, probably guessing that Italian wasn’t her first language from her butchered accent, continued to grin broadly and gestured that he was about to move the boat. Liz nodded.
The boat began its trail, crawling along the water. Despite being on a mission, Liz couldn’t help taking everything around her like an awestruck tourist. She had been to Italy on several occasions, but she had never taken the time to appreciate Venice’s waterways. But something about the last few days with Michael lingered with her, causing her to relax more than usual. She couldn’t help enjoying herself.
There were others floating on the water. Couples snuggled together, holding hands. A few families here and there. They all took in the sight of the ancient Italian buildings and bridges with wide eyes and pointing fingers. The man escorting her glanced over his shoulder, his smile not diminishing in the slightest. Liz felt her own bright smile pull at her lips. It was hard not being happy in such a magical place as this. She also found it hard not to miss Michael.
Then… she saw him. Not the man she wanted to see. Hunter. He had been handsome once, handsome enough to make her want him. Handsome enough to allow him to share her bed. Now, she wasn’t sure she could call him that. All she saw was the horrid smirk, the knowing eyes that conveyed something she didn’t want to translate.
He was standing off on the bank, hidden within the shadows of an alley. He wore an oversized coat, the collar pulled up to cover his neck and a cap over his head. He looked like someone straight out of an old British movie, save for the menace in his eyes. He caught her gaze, and his smirk widened at the realization that rocked her body. Liz’s heart sank.
She had wondered before if he was still watching her. Now she knew for sure.
Tell someone. Call the police. Point him out and get this over with.
But she didn’t move. She couldn’t. He held her gaze captive, fear shaking her body. Now, she hated the boat’s slow crawl. She hated the laughter and happiness and chatter that surrounded her. She hated the man that steered the boat, who was no doubt wearing that same smile. She hated the man she’d allowed into her life, who watched her from the shadows, knowing he had the upper hand here, knowing she was letting her emotions rule her—something she had never done before—and it was making her weak.
The smile became cocky, as if he knew she wouldn’t do anything about it. Liz hated herself for that as well.
Slowly, Hunter held up a hand and waggled his fingers at her. Then he stepped back, away from her sight. Liz didn’t look away from that spot, not until she was too far to see the place he had disappeared.
Something had to be done about him.