“That necklace means nothing to me. Not compared with losing you.” His voice shook uncharacteristically. “If my father’s legacy burns, if the Crown tries me for treason for letting maritime resources fall into criminal hands, so be it. It will be a small price to pay to keep you safe.”
Her eyes pricked with tears again and the gentle way he brushed them aside with his thumb made her heart soar higher. “I was going to say that the necklace is in the hidden pocket of my dress.”
When his jaw dangled open, she summoned her strength to sit up and press a kiss against it. “But it makes me happy beyond reason to know you’d light the world on fire to save me.”
He issued a low moan and kissed her with enough heat to make her wonder if the fever had returned.
Tenderly, he tucked her head to rest between the crook of his neck and his shoulder. “I vow to you, I will keep us safe from thefamiglie. We will endIl Gioco.”
“Indeed we will.” She breathed in his familiar scent and sighed. “Let me tell you my plan.”
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Ianstoodonthebanks of the Arno River and evaluated the spires of the church of Santa Maria della Spina. He ruminated over the sheer number of churches where he ended up doing the devil’s work.
“Quite a spot you’ve chosen,” Sunderland murmured from beside him. “They remade this entire building a few years ago. River flooding was compromising it, so the city of Pisa dismantled the thing. Put it back together in a higher spot.”
“It brings a certain poetry to what we’re doing.” Ian’s lips curved.
“I doubt anyone will appreciate it.”
“They’re all assembled?”
“Including the men of the cloth. Let’s hope they don’t shoot first and ask questions later.”
“They won’t.” The scheme was Diana’s idea, and Ian had absolute faith in it.
He disliked executing her plan without her, but she was still recovering from the fever. The neanderthal in him was relieved; he never wanted her to breathe the same air as Costa or Titus ever again.
When he and Sunderland entered the church vestibule, two priests approached them with a woven basket and gestured for their guns. They graciously placed them inside, per the terms all parties had agreed to, and proceeded into the church.
Titus and Costa stood in front of the altar, flanking the bishop of Pisa.
“Dragging me to a church on the arse end of nowhere won’t stop me from killing you,” Costa greeted them.
“True,” Ian conceded. His eyes flicked to the bishop’s paling face. “But murdering me won’t help you win the emeralds.”
“You’re here representing the Tarka?” Titus asked in a calmer voice.
“In this matter only.” The Tarkacapowas halfway back to Malta and had gladly accepted a generous incentive to agree to their plan. He’d confessed to Ian they were looking into new lines of business, which Ian hoped meant severing their ties to the trafficking trade.
“How do we know you have the necklace?” Costa asked.
Ian flicked the gems from his hand with a smooth motion. He supplied a jeweler’s loupe in his other hand and offered it first to Titus, then to Costa.
“We cannot play here.” Costa gestured wildly to their surroundings.
The bishop confirmed it with a stern nod.
“I’m not here to play, I’m here to negotiate,” Ian said.
Titus barked a laugh. “That’s not how this works.”
“Why?”
Costa grumbled beneath his breath about Ian’s stupidity. Titus expounded that Ian possessed biggercoglionithan a bull, before the bishop chided them all for their language.
“Signori, let me make things crystal clear,” Ian said. “The rules ofIl Giocopass down fromfamigliatofamiglia.There are no contracts. No binding regulation.”
