Falcon's Angel (20 page)

Darien took the chair on her other side. They sat together sipping cappuccinos like three companions, with a recorder before her.

“Angelina, what do you know of Alfonso Ruggiero?” Darien asked.

“I don’t know anything about him other than he had me kidnapped. He thinks my violin belongs to him.”

“Have you any idea why he would be after the Stradivarius?”

“I don’t know.” She was baffled by the question that flickered briefly in Darien’s eyes when he glanced at Armand.

Darien took something out of his pocket and placed it on the black-lacquered conference table. “Do you know what this symbol is?”

The heavy gold ring bore the same design as the earring she had pulled out of the mute’s ear that night he had attacked her in Naples. The bejeweled dragon was smaller, but just as exquisite in detail.

The red, fiery eyes made her head hurt and she looked away. “I don’t know. The men who brought me food in the cave wore rings like that and also these strange, long brown robes.”

Just a forward lean of his head transformed a solemn Darien into the inquisitor, and she was on trial in a witch-hunt. “How long was Giovanni Natale involved with
il Dragone
?”

“I-I…”
They know his name … Angelina Natale … oh, my God … What have I done?

“What is
il Dragone
?” She looked from Darien to Armand, who were staring at each other. “They were shouting it in the tunnels,” she said.

Their expressions were inscrutable, yet they were communicating. When Darien sat back in his chair, Angelina knew they had made a decision and wondered what had been decided.

Armand turned to her. “It is a religious cult that masks its secrets in the guise of the Catholic Church. Alfonso Ruggiero was their leader. His estates and vineyards provide employment for the residents of Forlì. For many, his holdings are the sole means of support for their families. There could be no greater incentive to serve in the ranks of
il Dragone
.” He picked up the ring. “This is an ancient symbol of paganism.”

Darien was watching her and she refused to look in his direction. Instead, she kept her eyes on Armand. “But there were so many of them. Did you kill them all?”

Armand’s grin soothed her. “One can only hope. Forces have already arrived in Forlì. Witnesses are coming forward in the wake of
La Verità’s
destruction and the ensuing publicity that has exposed Ruggiero’s hold over the town. Ruggiero’s reign is over.”

She shook her head. The picturesque farming community of Forlì was now center stage in what must be the biggest crime investigation in its history. If she had not lived it, she would have thought it was some television drama.

“Angelina, let’s go back to your meeting with Luciano Biagi,” Darien said.

“Where is he?”

“He’s not here,” Armand quickly assured her.

“He’s been hospitalized,” Darien added, glancing at Armand. “He had an accident.”

“Let’s not do this right now,” Armand said to Darien, but he never took his beautiful eyes off her. He kept looking at her, holding her in that emerald circle of protection. “Angelina, you said he was waiting for you at the restaurant?”

She told them of her meeting with the detective.

Darien had many questions about her interactions with the brown robes in the cavern. Most of the brown robes had never uttered a word to her. They had made gestures when they expected something of her, so there wasn’t much to tell.

“We’re done.” Armand stood, halting Darien’s inquiries.

In Armand’s car, she leaned against the headrest and closed her eyes.

The interview had only raised more questions. She knew very little about Armand’s work and his connection to all that had happened. But there was a connection, she was sure of it, because he had personal knowledge of this
il Dragone
Darien had mentioned.

Armand’s cell phone rang when they entered his apartment, and he took it into the kitchen. Though his words were muted, she could tell that he was arguing with someone.

Angelina didn’t want to hear anymore, her head ached. She went into the bedroom and closed the door.

* * * *

“You’ve been compromised,” Darien said on the cell phone.

“He’ll live to stand trial, Darien.”

“I’m not talking about what you did to Luciano Biagi. I’m talking about why you did it. This girl, she is affecting you, roaming free like this. We need to take her in.”

“You sound like Granger. No, I take that back. He’s more reasonable; at least he is willing to let her stand trial.”

“You were hospitalized during this so-called kidnapping. Have you forgotten how easily you could have been killed that night?”

“Is that what this is about? I can take care of myself, you know.”

“I am not amused, Falcon.”

Falcon jerked a hand through his hair. “Yes, yes, I know, you want a conspirator. You think Angelina played a part in the violin’s history by aiding her elderly teacher in secreting the Stradivarius in England. She’s not that great an actress, believe me, she can barely control that temper of hers.”

“Oh, I think she’s playing her part very well. She’s certainly convinced you. You’re still calling her Angelina.”

“That is a long story, and I can’t go into it right now.”

“She put on quite a performance this afternoon at headquarters. Do not forget Giovanni Natale’s financial records and correspondence. She knew his real name. She must have known all that he had left her and what she’d harbored in her apartment in Naples these past months.”

Falcon shook his head. “She was too upset to open his things, she loved him. She was honoring his memory by using his name, coming here to perform with the Stradivarius.”

There was a long silence before Darien spoke again. “Granger was right. You care for her.”

“What is it with you two? I am human, you know. You make it sound like I’m just a…“

“An assassin? You are. One of the best seven countries has ever hired. Only now you are a killer in love.”

“Is that so hard to believe?”

“I’ll tell you what I believe. I believe she was only too happy when you came on the scene. Your
rescue
of the violin from the mute added credence to her story just as your presence shielded her from Ruggiero’s thugs.”

“What?” Falcon shouted. He glanced at the bedroom door down the hall. It was closed, but he moved into his office and shut the door in case Angelina came out.

“Can’t you see she made herself Ruggiero’s victim in the kidnapping to escape censure once she’d been found out?” Darien asked. “Her mistake was that she had assumed her boyfriend Tony was a civilian and not a killing machine. Had it not been for your skills and the team, you would all have been murdered in the catacombs, disappearing without a trace into the fire that kept
il Dragone
’s secrets!”

Falcon held the phone away from his ear and still heard the usually unruffled Darien’s shouts as if he were in the office standing next to him.

Darien would never know just how skilled he was. The team would never betray him. They had lived through it, and didn’t need convincing. This adventure was better left unsaid.

Falcon knew that was part of Darien’s frustration. Granger, Vin, Tariq and Gavin had all come in with the same story. It was close to the truth, religious fanatics, sacrificial chambers, but it wasn’t everything. Darien would smell that.

It was better this way. Darien would never be able to wrap his logical head around this one.

And now Falcon’s status had changed. He was in love, and this was a man that neither Darien nor Granger knew. Hell, it wasn’t a man that
he
knew, for that matter. He had become an unknown variable. A risk.

“Explain to me why she didn’t touch the two million euro in the
Banca Nazionale del Lavoro
,” Falcon said.

“Bene,” Darien said. “I concede that went in her favor, but it does not make her innocent of a cover-up. She might have thought the money was marked.”

Falcon sighed. “Listen, I can’t talk about this right now.”

“Falcon,”

“I have to go.”

“Just keep her here in Rome where we can watch her,” Darien said.

“I can’t do that. It’ll raise questions if she doesn’t go back to Naples for the symphony. I’m not going to treat her like a prisoner.”

Chapter Nine

Armand found her soaking in the Jacuzzi.

The bath’s mirrored walls were frosted with mist and she couldn’t see his expression.

“How are you feeling?” he asked.

Angelina stared at the distorted figure. For the first time since she’d met Armand, his body language screamed discomfort. He leaned against the door jamb, as if he wasn’t sure he should come in. This wasn’t like the bath he’d given her that first night he’d brought her home to his apartment. That day, he’d been taking care of her. Today, they both knew that she didn’t need him in that way. What surprised her is that he didn’t know she needed him in another way.

As fascinating as his rare uncertainty was, it pained her. She wanted this stalemate to end.

He was not Luciano Biagi. He was the man she had willingly given herself to. The man she loved. Now they would be able to go home.

Home.

She was beginning to think of Italy as her home. Armand was the reason; home was wherever he was.

“Armand, come, you’ll feel so much better.” She scooped up a handful of bubbles and blew them his way. “I do.”

“Are you sure?”

“I miss you.” She settled back in the bubbles and held her arms out to him.

Finally, the Armand that she knew. Tall and strong, leaving a trail of clothes in his wake, he strolled towards her. The veils were gone from his eyes. They traveled leisurely over what parts of her the bubbles in the bath left uncovered.

“You look good in bubbles.” Armand sank down behind her with a satisfied sigh and pulled her close. Their slick limbs entwined in the swirling waters. He was soothing and familiar. Overwhelmed by this comfort, she lay silent against him.

After a while, she couldn’t sit still in front of him. His parts were calling to her parts and she wiggled her bottom against him. He lifted her up by the waist, placing her on his lap.

“Want to see the Sistine Chapel?”

Angelina jumped on him. “Oh yes! Can we go to today?”

Armand grinned at her breasts, which were almost at eye level. “What if I’d said the Colosseum.” He laughed when she jumped again. “I’ll take you there, too. Later.” He pulled her closer and took one rosy tip into his mouth.

She felt the pull of his lips in her center and clutched his head to her breast. His free hand moved over her other breast, pearling the tip, until her insides were like the hot water around them, which seemed to boil with bubbles, creating a sensual massage.

The pulsing warmth was all around her buttocks, lower abdomen, inner thighs … her body took up a sensual rhythm as she moved over Armand.

He lifted her up and brought her back down on a satisfied groan, impaling her. She held onto his shoulders, catching him up in the searing dance of love.

A sweet ache filled her and ever impatient, she bucked wildly over Armand in her quest for fulfillment.

But her experienced beau wanted more for them. Armand enfolded her in his arms and thrust himself between her legs. His driving hips brought them promisingly close to the brink of the maelstrom, yet teased her to mindlessness with a determined pace.

“Armand,” the keening whimper was coming from her. She wanted him to end this sensual torment and sink them into the violent storm, but he was relentless.

Only when her muscles contracted around him did Armand give in to the tide that was sweeping them up. He pushed them both over the edge into the whirlpool.

He took her screams into his mouth when they fell into the swirling vortex of ecstasy.

*

Falcon leaned back against the Jacuzzi and Angelina fell over him. Boneless and replete, she rested her head on his shoulder.

He lifted a raven tendril and kissed her warm skin. “Let’s talk.”

They put on terry cloth robes in the bedroom where he wrapped her in his arms against the pillows.

He had been doing a lot of thinking. International spy and family life did not go well together, but Angelina had crept into his heart and shown him what love is.

I’ll be damned if I’m going to let Darien and his misguided sense of justice ruin her life.

Angelina burrowed against his chest. He should give her the answers she waited for. He ruffled the top of her adorable mane. Her thick air was already drying.

“The Organization is an international agency that was formed ten years ago. Granger and I are based here in Rome, but my work takes me all over the world.”

“Are you an assassin?” Angelina blurted out.

“Sometimes,” Armand let that sink in. He had never spoken to any woman about his work, but this woman needed to know. He was determined to be honest with Angelina. He just prayed she could take it.

“And sometimes my job is to stop assassins, or corrupt dictators, or arms dealers. We aim for prevention, but if we’re too late, if the situation is too far-gone, we have to clean house. As you’ve seen in Forlì, it gets brutal. It’s real, but I’m on the right side of the law, Angel.”

“The passports,” Angelina prodded.

He nodded. “I have homes in those places. When I’m there, I am those people. I was in New York for a year before this, breaking up a tax fraud ring on Wall Street.”

“Todd Forster,” Angelina said. “Is someone waiting for you there?” She closed her eyes.

“No, Angel, there’s no one. Just you.”

Angelina expelled a relieved breath. “Thank God. I couldn’t bear it if there was a woman in New York playing house with you in some glass-enclosed high-rise.”

Pulling her up, Falcon looked her straight in the eye. “Don’t ever worry about that, all right?”

Angelina nodded.

“Ten years ago, a Stradivarius was stolen here in Rome and rumored to be traded on the black market. It belongs to a prominent family and has been in their possession for generations. Giovanni Natale performed for the family at their home in Lazio on several occasions.”

Angelina reddened at the mention of the Maestro’s real name, but said nothing.

“Any relation?”

“No,” she said quickly.

Stubborn tigress.
He wasn’t enjoying her discomfort, but she deserved it. “Have you ever heard of the Colossus before?”

“No, not before Alfonso Ruggiero mentioned it. What are you saying? Is it true that my Stradivarius is the stolen violin?”

“
Angelo di Luce
does not exist.”

Angelina shook her head. “There must be some mistake.”

“There is no mistake, Angelina. The Maestro was a thief. The violin he gave you is the stolen Colossus. He changed the name for you, cara, Angel of Light.”

Angelina stared at him as if he were speaking in tongues. “That’s impossible, he was a respected composer. He was my teacher!”

She buried her face in his chest and sobbed. “I loved him. Why would he do this horrible thing?”

He couldn’t hit her with the history of the feud between
il Dragone
and the Others. She had to remember or he’d be the crazy one.

“Ruggiero paid him two million euro for the Strad, but Natale skipped town with the violin. When he died, he left you the money as a gift. We retrieved it from the
Banca Nazionale del Lavoro
.”

“The Maestro lived for the music,” she murmured. “He did not do this for money. There must be some other reason.”

“A priceless Stradivarius would lure a master like Natale.” Falcon ran his hands down her back when she shook against him. “Baby, don’t cry. Listen, I do have some good news. Duke Eduardo Falco, the current owner of the Colossus, came into headquarters to give his testimony against Natale. He was so grateful to us for recovering it that he insisted you go forward with your plan and play the violin at the
Teatro di San Carlo
. He handed the Strad back over to me for safekeeping while you prepare for the symphony.”

Angelina quieted, her red-rimmed eyes fixed on him. “Is that why you came to Naples, for the violin?”

“Yes. We finally got a lead when one of our men saw you with the Colossus. Angel, at first the Organization considered you as a suspect, but I’ve been searching for the violin thief for ten years. I knew you weren’t the one we were looking for.”

“You were watching me. That’s why you were in the alley that night when the mute attacked me.”

Falcon nodded, remembering the black fog that had climbed the church wall. “That’s when I knew something wasn’t right. We found out that Natale was a brother of the order
il Dragone.
He’d poured hundreds of thousands of dollars of career earnings into the cult over the years.”

“So you had to stay close to the violin.”

“I couldn’t let anyone take it from you, and you were in danger.”

Angelina got up and moved barefoot across the Persian rug. She stood in front of the bedroom window where he couldn’t see her face. “And you watched your precious violin closely. You moved in with me, bravo…” she ended in a hurt whisper.

“I moved in with you because you were in danger,” he clarified, moving towards her.

She turned from the window, scalding him with molten gold eyes. “How can you be so sure? After finally finding the coveted Stradivarius that you have searched ten long years for? I think you moved in with me because your violin was in danger.”

Falcon moved to touch her, but she crossed the floor once more, putting the writing desk between them. “How can you even think that? Don’t you know how much I love you?”

“I wanted so much for this to be about love, and I see that it is. But it is not me you love, it is that cursed Colossus!”

“This is crazy!” Falcon stalked away from her and took several deep breaths before turning back. “Angel, we have more important things to deal with.”

Her gold irises were still boiling. He wanted to hold her but right now, she wanted nothing more than to scratch his eyes out, so he sat down on the edge of the bed.

“Va bene. At first, this was an assignment, but things changed. And I didn’t have to move in with you to protect the violin. I had cameras set up for that. I moved in with you because I wanted to be with you.”

“You put cameras in my apartment?” Angelina advanced on him. “You pervert!”

“Oh, come on! It’s not like I don’t know every inch of your body like the back of my hand! And I just put cameras on the door and windows.” Falcon grabbed her wrists when she lunged at him. “Baby, they were to protect you!” Her forward motion toppled them to the bed.

Angelina was trying to claw at him, Falcon rolled over her and she was trapped between his thighs.

“Let me up, you liar!” Angelina bucked underneath him. Her robe came undone while she thrashed about and the creamy mounds heaving with her exertions almost made him forget the issue at hand. She finally stopped struggling and glared at him. “This is not fair!”

“Ah, fair. Now we’re getting somewhere. You listen to me, you little hellcat. I know I’ve kept some things from you that I should have told you sooner, and I’m sorry for that. I’ll admit I can be secretive sometimes, but it’s the business. It’s in my blood.”

“H-hrumph!” She tossed that wild lion’s mane, and Falcon licked his lips, wishing he were licking hers. But they needed to have this out now and get past it.

“That is not an excuse. I know this is something I need to work on. But isn’t it time you met me halfway?”

Angelina stopped struggling and eyed him warily. She was that lovable eight year-old who had just been caught baking mud pies in Cook’s oven.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Oh, I think you do, Bella.” His slow nod was designed to coax a confession from those rose-tinged lips, but his stubborn tigress wasn’t talking. “Well, if you won’t tell me, I’ll tell you. And I want you to remember who was able to tell the truth here today, because for the next fifty years every time you call me a liar, I will remind you of this beautiful Fall day in Rome, with you pinned underneath me ready to claw me to death. No, I will not forget this day for the rest of our lives, Sacha Angelina Cardiff.”