“Moving on so soon after Olivia?” He made a ‘tsk, tsk’ noise. “Of course, you did put a bullet in her stomach.” He waved a hand. “We have women back in Rome. Wouldn’t you rather have an Italian girl over a German one?”
“No.”
“Oh, I see.” The smile that grew on his face was annoying. “She must be American.”
I didn’t confirm or deny it. “I can take a commercial flight and be back in Rome this evening.”
“You must need it bad. Staying around isn’t the best idea.” He glanced at his phone as he considered the request. “Fine, go have your fun with the girl and get it out of your system. But don’t keep my father waiting.”
24
OLIVIA
It wasmid-afternoon when I finished at the Osterhägen headquarters and returned to the hotel, my appointment scheduled with my new captain for the morning. I’d have to log several hours in both aircrafts before I could start flying passengers, and the captains and I were anxious to get started.
I came into the room, dropping my stack of paperwork on the side table.
Wait, why were the lights on?
The air in the room went thin. Ethan stood from the couch, his expression guarded. “I told you my real name,” he said. “You could’ve at least told me yours, Kathryn.”
My bones turned to ice. “Don’t say that name again. I’m Olivia Wallace.” I crossed my arms over my chest. “Actually, technically, I’m Sara Pratt. That’s the new identity you had Shawn arrange.”
Dammit, Jason.
People looked at me differently when they thought they knew my story.
“Kathryn Pierce died on a mountain,” I continued, “and I told you before—I don’t want to talk about it.”
He wasn’t the least bit fazed by my harsh tone. “Like it or not, we’re going to have that conversation.”
I shook my head, my frustration climbing. “Why? It was a long time ago. How is it important now?”
“Because I want to know what happened to you.” The statement hung in the air. “Look, I know I have no right to ask it. You don’t owe this to me.” He sighed. “But I want to hear it from you because you seem to understand me betterthan anyone else. Maybe I want the same to be true for me.”
I swallowed a breath, utterly conflicted. I’d left the States precisely to get away from this. “There’s plenty of stuff online that tells the story better than I can.” I tried to deflect. “What are you doing here? Where’s Gio?”
“Don’t worry about him. Please tell me about the night on the mountain.”
Was he serious? I’d said no. Why was he still pushing? I put my hands on my hips and unleashed the full fury of my glare on him. “I believe I told you that I don’t like talking about myself.”
His enormous feet brought him closer. And closer. “You came to Europe to get lost for a while. Not because you were running from that.”
“So what if I was?” Anger burned so hot inside me, it threatened to explode. “Go to hell.”
He drew in a deep breath, his expression serious. “Thanks, but I’ve already been.” His strong, rough hand touched my cheek, his thumb brushing over my lips. “Tell me about your time in hell, and... I’ll tell you about mine.”
Unexpected warmth spread from his caress and his words. He dangled this information as incentive to get what he wanted, but I was skeptical. “You’ll do that?”
His hand curled, tilting my head up as he leaned down, lowering in so his intense, beautiful eyes were all I could see. “I’m tired of secrets.”
His kiss was disarming. Gentle and sweet, but it leveled me all the same.
I steadied a hand on his arm, struggling to act immune, and pushed him away. “Fine, I accept.”
He stepped back and went to one of the side tables, retrieving a glass filled with a honey-colored liquid. He must have found the bottle of bourbon the bar had sent up last night. It caused a pang to ricochet through my heart as he held it out for me.
There was no point in stalling.
