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6
Sun was just beginningto lighten the sky when they turned up the long road outside of Florence. She could make out a tower of trees on either side of the long drive, sunlight silhouetting the branches against theindigosky.
Beyond that there wasnothing.
She’d slept most of the way to Italy, disembarking the plane with Damian and the big man — she’d learned his name was Farrell — who had rescued her inGreece.
She’d only had her location confirmed after exiting the apartment in Athens. She’d thought she might be in Greece, thanks to the food they brought her, the lettering on the pager bags, the language spoken in short bursts outside the door ofherroom.
But it wasn’t until Damian had shuffled her around the dead body on the stairs and out the back door into an alley that she knew for sure. He’d told her they were going to Italy. She was too exhausted and relieved to ask fordetails.
She was with him and that meant shewassafe.
Now they emerged into a courtyard with a bubbling fountain at its center, a massive stucco house looming behind it. When they pulled up to the front door, she noticed a woman standing on the porch next to asmallman.
Farrell stopped the car and made his way to the porch — to the woman — without a backwardglance.
“Come on,” Damian said as he helped Aria out of the car. “You canresthere.”
“Where are we?” she asked, stepping onto the crushedgravel.
“It’s Farrell’s compound in Tuscany,” he said. “It’s the closest place we could find to Athens. The safestplace.”
She didn’t need to know more. Thoughts had occasionally tried to push themselves to the surface of her consciousness — thoughts about Primo and Malcolm and the men who had kidnapped her — but she’d pushed them resolutely back underwater.
She couldn’t deal with any of it yet. She just wanted to get clean and sleepfordays.
Damian held her arm as they made their way up the wide front steps to Farrell and the brown-haired woman next to him. His arm was draped over her shoulders, a possessive glint in his eyes. He looked ready to stage an assault on anyone who looked at her the wrong way despite the fact that the only people in the vicinity were Damian, Aria, and the small man who had gone to the car to get Farrell andDamian’sbags.
The woman reached out and took Aria’s hand as soon as they reached the top steps. Her palm was warmanddry.
“I’m Jenna.” The woman’s voice was low and throaty, the voice of a screen siren from the 1940s. Add in the British accent and the glossy dark hair, the fierce green eyes, and Aria could see how she might tame a man like Farrell. “Let me show you to your room. You must beexhausted.”
Aria was glad the woman hadn’t gone through the motions of making small talk. She couldn’t talk about weather she hadn’t seen or about the journey from Athens. She felt like she’d been wrapped in a cocoon for the last few hours — for the last two months, which was how long Damian said she’d beenmissing.
Jenna touched Aria’s shoulder to guide her into the house and Aria followed her into an expansive triple-height foyer. She looked back at Damian as they crossed over the marble flooring and started up a sweeping staircase to the secondfloor.
“I’m not going anywhere,” he said, his dark eyesmeetinghers.
She turned around and continued up the stairs withJenna.
“I’m afraid my daughter, Lily, will be up in a couple hours,” Jenna said. “She’s a bit of a pistol, but I’ll try to keep her quiet so youcanrest.”
“That’s not necessary.” Aria was surprised to hear her voice emerge from her throat. It sounded strangely unfamiliar to her own ears. “I have a feeling nothing will wake me once I finally get tosleep.”
“Nevertheless,” Jenna said with a smile, “it won’t kill her to keep it down — for my sake if notyours.”
They continued down a long hall and turned left down another. Aria was beginning to feel like she’d entered a labyrinth crafted of marble and plaster, antique furnishings and fine art, when Jenna finally stopped at acloseddoor.
“I’ve put you here at the end of the east wing where it’s quietest,” she said. “But there’s an intercom if you need anything. I’ve left you a list with extensions for the kitchen and some of the other parts of the house you might want tocontact.”
“What about Damian?” she asked as Jenna openedthedoor.
“He requested to be put in the room next to yours.” Jenna hesitated. “I think maybe he wanted you to have privacy. The number to his room is on thelist,too.”
They stepped into a room that somehow managed to be both luxurious and homey. There was an imposing canopy bed lined with crisp draperies, a rustic wardrobe, a writing desk set against awindow.
“There’s a private bathroom,” Jenna said, opening a door on one side of the room. “There are fresh towels and everything you should need for tonight. Make a list of anything else you need and we’ll send someoneforit.”
