Page 12 of Unresolved

I swallowed hard, my senses reeling as the car swept down the long incline toward the cabin.“This place is yours?”I asked weakly.

He nodded.“Welcome tola mia oasi.”

My oasis.

Despite its beauty, it didn’t feel like an oasis.Not now I was so rattled.I scowled even as my stomach curdled a little.“It looks more likel’inferno in terra.”

Hell on Earth.

It wasn’t until he braked the car sharply and turned his head to look at me, that I realized my mistake even before he growled, “You know Italian?”

Chapter Seven

Evander

Every one of my senseshummed with awareness.Why hadn’t Gemma ever mentioned her Italian heritage?What else didn’t I know about her?Had I beenthatclueless?

Yes, I’d met her mother, and I’d learned about and loved her artistic side, but beyond that I’d known very little about her.

She blinked back at me, any vestige of guilt dissolving like it’d never been.She shrugged, then said blandly, “I know enough of the language to get me by.My grandmother swore enough in Italian for me to have a bit of a grasp of the language.”

“So youareItalian?”

She shook her head.“No, I was born in the US.This is my homeland.”

And yet she was hiding something.I’d been too blinded by my love for her the last time to have noticed anything amiss.Anger surged at my stupidity along with her duplicity.If she thought for a second I’d allow her to walk over me like a doormat, she’d soon learn the error of her ways.

I hadn’t been made an underboss for nothing.I killed as easily as I made love, and I’d revert to my merciless side to keep her until I’d had my fill of her—if that ever happened—and could walk away without looking back.

I parked at the side of the cabin, then shut down the car’s engine before I pushed open the driver’s door and climbed out.I glanced around at the vast emptiness, the wilderness that appeared empty but was full of life.

I inhaled the crisp, clean air, drawing it deep into my lungs.Though the land around me had been cleared of many of its trees long before I’d purchased it, the far-off mountains were filled with them in a riot of color displaying red, orange, yellow and mottled green.

The stream nearby burbled gently.When the rains came it’d be a raging torrent, with the cabin precariously close to its banks, but though it was hard to see with the naked eye, the land sloped away naturally from my little abode, keeping it safe and dry.

Even better, few people ever visited my patch of paradise.If the ‘private property’ sign on the driveway leading in didn’t dissuade them, the tall fence around it deterred even the most determined trespasser.

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