Chapter 6

“Benjamin Sanders?” Evalina exclaimed with a forced smile.

You hear that Antonio? Far as she knew, he was still waiting for the American’s exit from the Fedorio building. As her partner’s surprised “What?” sounded in her earpiece, Ben smiled in front of her.

It was not a warm, welcoming, it’s-great-to-see-you smile.

“Evalina.”

Dio Mio. In person, that deep American accent of his sent all sorts of delicious sensations scorching through her body. He looked good. Better than good considering the last time she’d gazed upon his handsome face, it had been a canvas of multi-colored bruises.

She rose to her feet to avoid a sore neck, then had to grasp the chair to steady herself for having moved too fast. Even in her heels, she still had to tilt her head back to meet his stormy blue eyes.

“I—wow.” She sucked in air to eliminate the breathless note in her voice. “What are you doing here?”

That second part was as much for Antonio as the man in front of her, but her partner’s reply was lost as Ben’s chin dipped and his eyebrows rose.

“What am I doing here? That’s the first thing you have to say to me after all this time?”

“I…” What could she say? Apologizing was out of the question while Antonio listened. She wasn’t even sure she wanted to apologize, but if she didn’t say something, any chance of getting close to Ben would be ruined. The way his gaze bored into hers, she knew it was a long shot to begin with, but she had to try.

“I’m on my way,” Antonio told her through the earpiece.

“No!”

Ben’s brows rose a notch at her abrupt statement. Willing another smile to her lips, she lifted her free hand to indicate the empty chair at her small café table. “Will you join me for a caffé?”

His gaze narrowed.

Smooth, Gallo. Real smooth. The man had a way of making her act like a total amateur. It’d been that way from the moment they first met, and the exact reason she’d been against this whole fake set-up from the start.

Suspicion in his expression gave way to consideration. He shifted, then checked his watch. The fidgeting reminded her there was a reason he was on foot instead of in the back of Antonio’s cab, and it was her job to discover why.

Their gazes connected once more. Her traitorous heart skipped a beat when he opened his mouth to reply to her invitation.

All of a sudden he lurched and stumbled forward. She saw a brief flash of dark behind him, then his hands caught her arm and the table for balance. Her hold on the chair barely kept them both upright. When he straightened, steady on his feet again, his gaze swept over her.

“Sor—”

He broke off abruptly, eyes widening. His hand rose to sweep across his chest, and then he spun around with a curse. Before she could make any sense of the past few seconds, he took off running through the crowd.

Training kicked in. Evalina grabbed her purse with her gun and dashed after him. A couple steps in the stupid heels and she almost twisted her ankle. She ditched the stilettos and picked up speed while dodging the confused pedestrians milling in Ben’s wake.

“Antonio,” she barked as she ran. “Where are you?”

“Heading east on Via Fratelli Rosselli. I’ll stay—”

“He took off, also headed east toward the Cathedral. I may not catch him.”

“Not in those shoes you won’t.”

“I’m not wearing them!”

The impatient blare of a car horn echoed in her earpiece and from somewhere behind her.

“Do what you can,” Antonio instructed. “I have to go around—there are too many people. Keep me informed.”

“Copy.”

Eva continued her pursuit and caught sight of Ben up ahead. She dodged a couple of tourists, but lost him again when he entered the crowded piazza. The cool, worn cobblestones beneath her bare feet were so smooth she had trouble gaining any ground while avoiding pedestrians.

When she reached the open square, she located the closest vehicle and climbed atop the hood to see what direction Ben had gone. Antonio might still be able to cut him off. Ignoring the strange looks cast her direction, she straightened to search the area, purse held in front of her in case she needed her Beretta.

Halfway across the piazza, Ben stood in one place, turning this way and that, head craned as if trying to see above the crowd.

“I have eyes,” she told Antonio. “Sanders is in front of the Cathedral.”

“Good. I’m almost there.”

As she started to climb back down, Ben hopped up into the air. She paused and watched. When he made a quarter turn and did it again, she realized he was searching for someone. Her gaze swept the square. On the far opposite side of the piazza a dark figure darted from the crowd and disappeared around the corner.

Evalina frowned just as Ben turned in her direction. Even from a distance their gazes met as if magnetized. Instead of continuing his escape, he started toward her, his long strides eating up the distance.

“Hold back,” she instructed her partner as she maneuvered to vacate the hood of the car without giving anyone a peep show. “There’s something more going on here. He wasn’t running from me.”

“Are you sure?”

“Sì.”

She met Ben half way, but before she could say a word, he asked, “Did you see him?”

“See who?”

“The guy who stole my bag. The sonofabitch cut the strap when he pushed me.”

In her mind, a split-second flash of the dark figure behind Ben by the café was followed by the man running from the piazza. Had to be the same guy.

Her downward glance confirmed the canvas bag that had rested against Ben’s hip earlier was gone. He turned around for another glance at the piazza, and when she caught sight of a crimson-stained tear in his jacket near his waist, her pulse spiked.

“You’re bleeding.”

Had he been stabbed? One step forward brought her to his side. After tucking her purse under one arm, she lifted his lightweight jacket and torn shirt to assess the severity of the wound. From what she could see through the smeared blood, the cut started a little above the waistband of his jeans on his side, and extended toward his back at a downward angle. The moment her fingers grazed his warm, bare skin, he jerked away from her touch. He twisted to take a look himself before yanking the edge of his shirt down with a grimace.

“It’s fine. He must’ve nicked me with the blade, that’s all.”

It appeared more than a nick to her, but she bit back concern he clearly didn’t appreciate and dropped the issue to take advantage of the opportunity that had fallen into her lap. “What was in the bag?”

One hand went to his jeans pocket, the other to an inside pocket of his jacket. His gaze met hers, then shifted to the people moving past them. He bunched the tail of his shirt in one hand and held it against the cut on his back side, presumably to stop the bleeding. His other hand rose from his chest to rub the back of his neck.

“Nothing major. A change of clothes, toothbrush, razor. I still have my wallet and passport in my inside jacket pocket.”

“So there was nothing else in the bag someone would want to steal?”

“Not that I’m aware of.” That perceptive blue gaze returned to hers, once more full of shadows and suspicion. He lowered his arm and tilted his head. “You know, it strikes me that this is one of those small-world moments.”

Small world…? Ah, as in them meeting like this. “It is,” she agreed. The plan might work out after all.

He smiled as if enjoying a private joke.

Drawing upon her undercover experience, she managed to look him in the eye. “How crazy is it that we would meet up like this? I’m having dinner with friends.”

His gaze lowered for a slow, tingle-inducing appraisal. Heat flooded her face and spread through her body.

“Is that what they’re called these days?”

So much for working out. It didn’t matter that she’d warned her partner about this very thing, Ben’s disbelieving derision flipped sensual awareness to indignation in the blink of an eye. “I do not appreciate your insinuation.”

“Then what’s with the professional get up?”

His tone left no doubt as to his definition of the stressed word.

“Well, it certainly got your attention,” she sneered without thinking.

He glanced to her right with a smirk. “It’s got everyone’s attention, Evalina. That’s nothing to be proud of.”

A soft beep in her ear preceded Antonio’s, “Scusi.” The ispettore’s voice reminded her she walked a thin line. She had to steer the conversation back around to their advantage. Before she had the chance to form a non-defensive, professional reply, Ben stepped closer.

“But that was the point, wasn’t it? To get my attention.”

His question made her swallow hard, along with the fact that he towered over her as his gaze held hers with relentless intensity.

“I do not know what you mean. I told you I’m meeting friends.”

“What happened to your shoes?”

The abrupt switch threw her off guard. He took another step forward. She retreated, mentally scrambling for an excuse while fighting the urge to look down at her bare feet. “I, ah…”

“You ran after me.”

Her stomach sank. Her chest grew tight. How did she explain that one without blowing her cover? You’d think it was her first day on the job! If Antonio reported this back to her commissario, she’d be demoted to desk duty in a heartbeat—if she was allowed to keep her badge.

Ben stepped closer. She backed up, clutching her purse in front of her. One bare heel scraped against stone, and then the rough surface of one of the columns supporting the piazza archways bit into her shoulder blade. He let go of the makeshift bandage at his side and reached forward to grasp her upper arms.

“The last time we were together, you couldn’t get away fast enough. Why chase me now?”

“Release me.” What was intended to be a demand came out as a whisper. He’d gotten so close she couldn’t breathe. What the hell was wrong with her? She’d never backed down from a suspect in her life.

You never slept with one, either.

“Answer my question,” he demanded.

Self-preservation kicked in and she lifted her chin to glare up at him. “Remove your hands, signore.”

The new determination in her words only tightened his grip. “Why did you run after me?”

She fumbled for the zipper of her purse just as Antonio stepped up behind him from the right.

“Let her go.”

Ben whipped his head toward her partner. She caught a glimpse of alarm in his expression before he released her and spun around. His broad shoulders blocked her view, so she stepped sideways in time to see Antonio ease his jacket aside to reveal his holstered gun.

The American’s arm extended to keep her behind him as he glared at Antonio. “You need to walk away, buddy. You got my bag, but you’re not getting anything else.”

Evalina marveled at his obvious protection of her until his words registered. She frowned toward Ben. “You think he stole your bag?”

“If not him specifically, then one of the guys he’s working with,” he stated over his shoulder. “They’re running a scam from the airport. Park a couple taxis out front, an inside man finds the mark, then they coordinate a tail to watch for an opportunity to relieve said mark of his possessions.”

“Interesting idea, but no,” Antonio said.

Her partner turned his gaze to Evalina and raised his eyebrows, silently asking how she wished to proceed. If someone had listened to her in the first place, Benjamin Sanders’ unpredictability would’ve figured into the plan, and they might’ve had a chance of pulling off this whole screwed up situation. As it was now, there was no sense continuing, so she lifted her hands, shrugged, and sighed.

Ben’s arm lowered to his side as he turned, his narrowed gaze shifting between her and the man he’d thought was a cab driver. Evalina waited, knowing it wouldn’t take long once his attention returned to Antonio.

Comprehension dawned in those blue eyes even before the ispettore reached up to remove his glasses and retrieve his credentials.