He used the attached bathroom to wash and dress. His unruly hair and dark beard made his reflection in the mirror something sinister. He looked like someone who belonged roaming the docks.
“What time is it?” Diana’s muffled voice called.
When Ian walked back into the bedroom, she had the sheet pulled tightly around her. He recognized that this was not some latent effort at modesty; it was an attempt to put distance between them.
“It’s after seven,” he replied calmly.
“Will you draw me a bath? I’d like to wash.” Her eyes darted between him and the door, and he nodded slowly. Birdie or her sparrows were likely waiting outside.
Thankfully, the bathing room was fitted with running water, and Ian turned the cold tap to muffle the sound of their conversation.
Diana pulled the door to the bath shut behind her and leaned against it protectively. With the sheet draped around her, her chestnut hair tumbled over her shoulders, and a faint blush lingering on her cheeks, she looked like a goddess.
One he was eager to worship with his body again.
“I suspect Birdie’s in the hallway,” she murmured.
“And we have to assume she’s working with Widow to lure you somewhere they can take the necklace without a fight.”
Diana gave a reluctant nod. He hated the way she gripped the sheet closer to cover her breasts. The attempt was futile; he’d never forget what they looked like.
“I know we should talk about last night.” Her throat bobbed on a swallow. “But if we do, I fear we’ll never leave this room.”
He paused a beat. “That can be arranged.”
She bit her lip. “It was wonderful, Ian.”
He felt his smile split his face. “It was.”
The water rushed into the drain while they took a moment to revel in this accord before she said, “You promised you’d tell me what you know about the factions vying for the emeralds and what you intend to do about it.”
It was the bargain they’d made, and yet, he hesitated. Once she knew the truth, the adventure he’d allowed himself to get carried away with would end.
“Ian?”
“Knowing will make you a target.” He couldn’t be polite about it, nor could he hold back a snarl. “Despite that, I also know that it’s ultimately better for you to understand everything, because we both need to protect you from it.”
“You keep trying to push me away from this. Have you considered that I’m already too entwined?”
“Yes.” He scrubbed a hand down his face. “And if I tell you all this, I am asking you to agree to put that clever brain to work to sort out a way to sever you from it.”
Before the glower she gave him could turn into another protest, he quickly said, “The necklace is the bounty for a dangerous competition.Il Gioco. It came aboutbecause threefamiglie—I use the term loosely—have held historical claim to the emeralds over the last two hundred years.”
“One of them is Il Corno. Costa’s network.”
“The Sicilianfamiglia,” he confirmed. “There is also the Manu Rosso, whose territory is in the South. And the Tarka.”
“They must be from Malta.”
He nodded. “It means shield.”
Diana extended her fingers over her heart, and he tipped his head to acknowledge her silent question that the shadowed lines behind the cross of his tattoo formed the symbol.
It stirred memories, promises he wasn’t ready to divulge to her yet, so he prattled on. “Legend says the battle for the gems used to be a trying series of physical tests, but thefamiglielost too many soldiers. Now,Il Giocois played on one night, in one ruthless zero-sum game of cards. The winner receives the emeralds and everything the other players wager. Whoever wins holds the emeralds for life. And everything staked to them. The winner can sell the other assets—”
“But the emeralds can never be bought or sold,” she finished. “If only the threefamigliecan play for the emeralds, how did your father win them?”
“He never told me all of the details, but it amounted to being in the wrong place at the wrong time and the Tarka deciding he would play for them.”
