Protected by Shadows (17 page)

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Good.” She walked off.

He didn’t follow, just sat on the nearby bench. It was official—he didn’t understand women. But that was all right. He didn’t have to understand them all. If he could figure out the one he currently observed, he’d be much better off. She was fiery, passionate. There were many things he could call her but dull wouldn’t ever be one of them.

Valentino sat there and watched her finish her cone. She wiped her mouth and hands before coming back in his direction. He rested his left ankle on his right knee and waited for her.

“Ready to go?” she asked.

“You sure you want to leave? We could walk around a bit more.” He made the offer not really wanting to end their time together. At the house, there was work and more arguments looming.

“Walk? Sure, why not.”

With a smile for her, he rose to his feet and gestured for her to pick a direction. Falling in beside her, he nearly wrapped an arm around her but figured that wouldn’t be welcomed. They walked for another hour before they ended up back at his truck. There hadn’t been much discussion as they’d progressed, but he took it as a good sign that they weren’t at each other’s throats.

Lexy rested her arms against the back of his truck. He didn’t say anything, merely leaning along the side himself. For a few moments, the only noise around them came from the other park goers.

She lowered her head to the bedrail and shuddered. Valentino furrowed his brow—while it was a cooler day, it wasn’t cold by any means. Then came the muffled cry. To his ears, it sounded as if the noise had been ripped out of her. Forcefully. Painfully.

Then it hit him—she was crying. He wasn’t sure what to do. He’d never faced this Lexy before. She was always holding it together.

He reached for her twice only to stop before actual contact was made. Would she even want him to acknowledge her tears? Hell, he wasn’t made for this. He hunted and killed. Offering comfort wasn’t anything he had practice with.

The noise from his cell snapped his confused thoughts. “Hello?” She never even looked up.

“You do know you can offer comfort, right? After all, she is your wife. Cute little thing.”

Masters. Valentino frowned. “Where are you to know this?” He glanced around but didn’t see anything to make him think Masters was there.

“Don’t worry about me, tend to your wife.” A slight moment of silence. “For Christ’s sakes, man, put your arms around her. Hold her. Let her know she’s not alone.”

Click.

An odd call and more than a bit disturbing. Phone back in his pocket, Valentino closed the small distance between them and gathered her near, pressing her face to his chest. She gripped the sides of his shirt in strong hands and continued to cry, her entire frame trembling with the force of her sobs. Slowly, he guided her to the back and lowered the tailgate. Without breaking her hold on him, he cupped her ass and lifted her to sit on the metal.

Time passed, but he didn’t rush her, or ask her what was wrong. If she wished him to know, she’d tell him. Instead, he stood there and did what he figured was right so far—give her a warm body to hold. Because all he truly knew was she needed this.

When she drew back and looked up at him, his heart broke. Her eyes were red and puffy and the tear streaks on her face were obvious. He used his thumbs to wipe them away.

She continued to stare at him, lips wet with her tears as well. He dabbed at the lingering drops at the corners of her eyes.

“Better?” he asked, in as gentle a tone as he could manage.

Lexy removed her grip from his shirt and wiped her palms off on her thighs. “That all you have to say?”

“Yes,” he responded after thinking about it for a few moments.

It wasn’t hard to tell she was skeptical, but she nodded and slid off the tailgate, brushing by him in the process.
Hell, did I mess up again?

Lexy erased the telltale signs of her breakdown from her face using the side mirror for assistance. Behind her, she could see Valentino watching her as one would a wounded animal. With cautious concern.

“Let’s go,” she said.

Without a word, he moved to the other side and got behind the wheel. She rested her head against the window and closed her eyes for the ride back, content he knew where she lived now. Plus, she was beyond exhausted. When they pulled into the drive, she slowly sat up and disengaged her seatbelt. With deliberate measured steps, she made it to the door and unlocked it.

Going straight through, she walked right out the back to the porch overlooking the fenced-in yard and climbed into the hammock there. Valentino’s heavy footsteps had her frowning. The man could be a perfect ghost if he so desired. If she was hearing him, he wanted her to be alerted to his presence.

She opened her eyes and watched him stride through the back door. Power. Grace. Danger.

Sure looks good in jeans though. They do things for him a suit never could.
Not that he looked bad in a suit, it was just that jeans did it for her.

In one hand he held a glass, which he brought to her. She smiled. Iced tea. “Thank you,” she said. Sitting up, she took it from him and sipped while he sat nearby in one of her Adirondack chairs.

His response was a sharp nod. She didn’t take offense, just accepted this for what it was. He was trying to offer comfort but not pry, something she truly appreciated.

“It was just too much suddenly. I couldn’t breathe well and the only way it seemed the only way to assuage it was to cry.”

Her admission shocked her as much as it appeared to have him. But since she’d begun, she couldn’t quite shut her mouth.

“All of this. Eugene. He’s not waking up, hasn’t shown progress. And they say the longer he’s like this, the worse it is. I don’t know what else to do for him. I’m so tired, all I want to do is crawl into my bed and sleep for a year. But that’s not it. This damn group, which for some damn reason seems to have it out for me. I just…just…couldn’t take it anymore.”

There was no response and she lifted her head and gazed at him. He stared out into the backyard, hand to his chin lightly stroking it, one ankle on the opposite knee. She waited for him to say something, but he didn’t. Just continued to watch over the lawn, which needed cutting.

“Are you listening to me?” she asked.

Those intense eyes were upon her in seconds. “I heard every word. Did you want me to comment back?”

Taking a big drink of her tea, she nodded.

“Okay. I think you should cut yourself some slack and let yourself cry it out if that’s what you need to do. Eugene is one-third of the people you consider the most important in your world and he’s in a coma where the prognosis isn’t good. You’ve not cut back on your work and are trying to continue to fit in visiting him daily—it’s wearing on you. Finish it all off with the added pressure from The Watchers who are after you for something that you don’t know. If things didn’t get a bit overwhelming at one point, I would be extremely surprised.”

“One-third? I only have two brothers.”

He faced the yard again. “I know that. But you consider Jaydee your sister. That’s your third.”

Lexy finished off her tea and set the cup on the small table near the hammock. Lying on her side where she could still see him, she pushed with one foot before bringing it up with her.

“You’re insightful.”

“I’ve seen a lot of good people go through horrible experiences. That’s more what it is.”

She stared at his profile.
He would be amazing to paint. Or even to sketch.
It was on the tip of her tongue to ask him about the woman whose ring he used to wear around his neck. The chain was still there, but no ring.

Wonder how much it hurt him not to wear it anymore? And I’m intrigued as to why he never took it off.
She made a mental note to ask him then closed her eyes, allowing the gentle swaying of the hammock combined with the breeze blowing over her to calm her rattled nerves. She couldn’t afford to lose it again. This wasn’t an option—she had to be at the top of her game.

Can’t let The Watchers win.

His cell rang and she cracked open her eyes and watched him. Whatever it was—she couldn’t hear because he spoke so low—he wasn’t happy. She scrutinized the play of muscles in his arm as they rippled and flexed. His jaw was set and she could see the furrow of his brow.

“Everything okay?” she asked once he’d finished.

“No. Still no sign of Ethan.”

“Do you think The Watchers took him?”

He rubbed his eyes. “The thought has occurred to us.”

“Us? Who’s us?”

“Theta Corps.” He dropped his foot to the porch and leaned back with a groan. “It could be a number of other groups as well.”

“Or something else could have come up.”

Valentino turned his head and stared at her. “Like?”

“I don’t know. But I would think any of y’all who are all so passionate about keeping those who mean something to you safe, if one of them called him, wouldn’t he go?”

“Why not tell us?”

“Maybe he can’t. Perhaps this is the only way.”

“What makes you think we’re passionate about keeping those safe who mean something?”

Please.
“You didn’t tell your family for the longest time what you truly do because you wanted to keep them out of it and as safe as possible.”

“And you?”

Her belly tightened at the look he leveled at her. Hot. Sexy. Alluring. She gave a half yawn.

“You want this group, I’m a means to an end.” It bothered her how much those words hurt to say. She closed her eyes and rolled on her back. “Which is fine by me.”

Way to lie, Lexy. Way to lie.
She wanted to look at him, see if he was buying her claim. She didn’t, instead she remained where she was and did her usual acting job as she’d grown good at doing around him—as if it just didn’t matter.

After some time of silence, she turned her head and opened her eyes. He remained where he’d been sitting, his gaze over the backyard still. Hell, it was as if he’d not even moved a muscle.

“Tell me about Theta Corps.”

“Can’t.” He never even looked at her.

“Why not? I’m your wife.” Interesting situation though it might be.

“Don’t ask this of me, Lexy. I won’t tell you and I don’t want to have to lie.”

A sharp bite of laughter exploded from her, not bringing any humor with it at all. “Why is now any different? You’ve been lying to me since we met,
investment banker man
. Can’t you just tell me the truth about something?”

“The truth?” He rose from the chair and moved toward her like a predator about to take down his prey. “You want me to tell you the truth about something?”

His hazel eyes had ice chips in them and she nearly shivered from the coldness of his stare. Every inch of his hard body was rigid and she sat upright, wondering if this had pushed him too far.

“Yes,” she retorted, still unwilling to back down.

“Very well, Mrs Cassano, here’s a truth for you.” He picked her up and placed her on the railing then boxed her in with his arms and body. “I told someone about what I did. About what I truly did. Not the gritty details but enough so that she knew I wasn’t an investment banker. She even knew some of the people I worked with. I was sure I could trust
my wife
—why shouldn’t I be able to? It turned out I could trust her. To steal from us, plot against us, kill members of my group and let’s not forget how she allowed her lover to use my son as a shield to get away. My son who I then later had to bury. The truth is, I had zero intention of ever marrying a woman again. I didn’t want another wife. My first one betrayed me, killed our son and took the easy way out by dying herself instead of facing the repercussions she should have. My son wasn’t even a year old. Not even my parents knew about him.”

He leaned closer, his breath hot and angry. “So don’t assume you know all, Lexy. I have reasons for playing things close to the vest.” That said, he whirled away from her and went inside.

Lexy slumped against the pillar and shook her head. What kind of woman would do that? Her heart hurt for him and what he’d gone through. Made a lot of sense why he wasn’t so chipper and happy all the time, though. She mulled over a few things then hopped off the rail and went inside.

She went back to his bedroom and pushed in without knocking. Her breath caught in her throat as she found him there wearing only jeans. His tanned skin begged to be touched, caressed, licked.

He held her gaze, one eyebrow arched. “Need something?”

She took a fortifying breath and asked her question. “This man, the bastard who is responsible for your son’s death. Is he the head of The Watchers?”

Valentino didn’t speak for a moment. She refused to relinquish his gaze. When the tip of his tongue snuck out to dampen his lower lip, she tensed. For more than one reason.

“Yes.” The word was singularly flat and yet in it, she could hear the death of that man.

Chapter Eleven

Valentino wiped the sweat off his brow as he walked up the drive to the house. After his confession, or
truth
, to Lexy, he’d gone for a run. A long one. It had taken a lot for him to say those words to her. What had surprised him was the anger in her gaze when he had—she had been pissed on his behalf.