Page 5

Chapter

Four

Alice hated the way she felt as she stormed to her room and slammed herself inside.

She’d felt lonely for Robbie over the past fifteen years.

She’d felt fear and horror as those she loved were murdered over the last year.

But she hadn’t felt angry like this since the day Robbie left her.

She didn’t like it. Her mother would say it was proof that Robbie was all wrong for her, just as she’d always said. That made her even more angry.

Alice loved her mother. She tried to be there for her.

But she refused to let her mother control her life or who she associated with.

Her mother had always wanted her to marry their closest family friend, Preston Lavity.

Preston was polished, wealthy, and handsome.

He was warm and patient with Alice, but she’d seen him be as mean as her mother to his staff and employees, and he was far too pretentious for her.

Her mother had barely tolerated Jack, Natalie, and Ruby, and Alice had kept those relationships strong.

She gulped. Until her friends and boyfriend had been killed.

She’d been so lonely without Natalie and Ruby’s friendship.

Jack had been a positive person and a successful lawyer.

He was courteous to her and a good conversationalist. She’d enjoyed dating him and they’d been progressing toward a serious relationship, but she couldn’t say she’d loved him.

She’d never loved anyone like she’d loved Robbie.

She ignored the part of her that had been ecstatic to see and connect with Robbie again.

But Robbie …

How could he never have tried to reach out to her?

Not a text, an email, a phone call? Yet she’d done the same.

It was hypocritical of her to be so furious with him.

Robbie had pursued her diligently when they first fell in love and maybe she had assumed he always would.

Even though his line about loving a challenge had frustrated her earlier, she’d also secretly loved him using that same line again.

Robbie knew what he wanted, and he went for it.

She’d loved when she had been what he wanted.

Alice paced the room, then went out on the patio and studied the variety of architecture on the buildings nearby.

She watched people go by on tiny sidewalks between buildings, or row or power by on small boats in the canal.

The water was a grayish-blue; she’d heard it was dirty.

She felt yucky inside. Should she apologize to Robbie, try to start fresh for these two weeks?

No. She was right there, where he’d left her, and he could have made a change at any point.

He was the one who’d never come for her, and their last conversation—or rather fight—had been awful.

He’d accused her mother of manipulating and controlling her and Alice of not having a backbone to stand up for herself and get away from the ‘toxic relationship’.

Get away from her own ailing and difficult mother. What kind of monster did that? Her mother would have no one besides their housekeeper Emeline and Priscilla Lavity, Preston’s mother and her lifelong friend. Priscilla was loyal and pleasant, but she was often away traveling with her husband.

Alice had been right to fight with Robbie and to feel all the anger, abandonment, and heartbreak.

Finally, she went inside and said an insincere prayer for help and to try to enjoy the experience of Venice and for Big Buddha to be captured and not kill anyone else.

Then she lay down and thought she was asleep, but suddenly she could feel him.

The huge, grotesque-looking buddha man closing in on her.

How such a monstrosity could move so quick never ceased to amaze her.

“Help,” she croaked, too quiet for anyone to hear. Then, louder, “Help.”

Finally, she shrieked, “Help! Please help!”

The door to her room banged open and Alice shot up in bed. The light from the hallway silhouetted Robbie, wearing only a pair of shorts.

“Help,” she whispered, putting a hand to her throat, instantly needing a different kind of help. How could she stay safe emotionally from the man she’d always loved looking like Adonis—large and fit and manly?

Robbie rushed to her side, settling onto the mattress, which squeaked under his weight, and wrapping his warm palms around her shoulders. “Alice. Are you all right?”

“A nightmare,” she admitted. “Just a nightmare.”

River appeared in the doorframe.

“She had a nightmare,” Robbie told the bodyguard, his bright blue eyes steady on her face.

His warm palms grounded her in reality and distracted her completely from the fear of moments before.

His crisp mint, bergamot, and ginger scent wafted over her.

“River, would you sweep the room and patio just in case? All these windows and patios are a security nightmare.”

“Of course, bro.” River turned the lights on in her suite and then hurried around, checking everywhere.

Alice almost contradicted that the windows and patios were a designer’s joy.

But she didn’t want to say anything, and she didn’t dare move and displace Robbie’s hands from her shoulders.

She craved his touch. She’d had little comfort or warm touches recently.

At Natalie’s funeral, Natalie’s family members and Alice’s church and work friends had given her hugs, which she had appreciated.

She hadn’t realized how starved for human touch she’d been since then.

Even more significant that it was Robbie’s touch.

She let her gaze trail over his upper body instead of watching River check nooks and crannies for an intruder they all knew wasn’t there. Only in her mind. She’d never seen the man, only imagined him .

Big Buddha had taken everything from her, including her joy in life and her peace of mind.

Nobody had any idea what he looked like.

The few glimpses from security cameras close to the scenes of death didn’t correlate—different heights, builds, hair color, etc.

Some of the FBI agents wondered if there was more than one killer using the Big Buddha moniker or if Big Buddha only orchestrated the murders.

Robbie was big. The man was built like a tank, but he wasn’t scary like Big Buddha.

With his muscles bulging, he represented a safety she’d longed for.

She noticed tattoos she’d never seen on his chest and bicep.

The bicep one looked like the Army Ranger symbol.

Engraved on his right pec muscle were entwined dog tags.

“All clear, sir,” River stated.

“Appreciate it,” Robbie said.

River nodded to them and walked out the door, closing it gently behind him but leaving the lights on.

Alice felt Robbie’s gaze on her face. She met his blue eyes, drawn in by their brightness and intensity.

“Are you all right?” he asked, his warm palms still on her shoulders. It should have been awkward, but no touch was ever awkward with Robbie. Quite the opposite. Every touch was thrilling, and she never wanted it to end.

“The nightmares began after he killed Natalie.”

“I’m so sorry, Alice. I always liked Natalie. And Ruby.”

He didn’t offer any reassurances that he’d hunt the guy down and rip him apart or he’d never leave her side until he was caught, and she really could’ve used that.

But that wouldn’t be Robbie. He was good and honest to the core, but he’d never offer empty comfort.

If the police and FBI couldn’t find the murderer, she doubted even the relentless Robbie Perrine and his illustrious boss Aiden Porter could crack the case.

His large palms ran across her shoulders and down her back. She trembled from his touch. Every part of her wanted to sink into the muscles of his chest, cling to the muscles of his back, and never let him go.

But she was angry with him. And she wouldn’t put him at risk. The strong emotions of fear and anger helped her stay strong and not lean in.

“Tattoos and scars,” she murmured, touching the symbol on his left bicep.

He smiled at that, looking a little sheepish, which didn’t fit his tough security operative image. “Everybody says I look like Jason Momoa.”

“Hmm.” She could see the resemblance, but her Robbie was much more handsome. At least to her.

Her Robbie?

She was letting her defenses down, and she wasn’t ready to do that. She doubted she’d ever be ready. It was terrifying to risk her heart again and horrifying to think of this strong man laid out in a casket.

Alice yanked away from his touch and scuttled off the bed, standing. Robbie gazed up at her, his blue eyes stunned by her sudden movement and possibly hurt that she’d moved away from his touch.

But he said nothing. He simply stood and let her appreciate all his manly glory. Even with that bush on his face and his too long curly hair, he looked enticing. “You’ll be able to sleep now?”

“Yes, thank you,” she lied. She rarely fell back asleep after the nightmare. She’d be exhausted tomorrow between that and the jet lag.

He nodded to her. “Goodnight.”

Then he turned and strode out of the room, shutting the door behind him. He had a tattoo on his right shoulder blade as well. A flag with some words written on it she couldn’t decipher.

Alice wanted to run after him, beg him to hold her close. She could sleep in Robbie’s strong arms, after she kissed him thoroughly, examined each tattoo, and learned the significance of each one.

“Ugh.” She groaned and shut off the lights.

A matter of hours in and already Robbie was making her long for him.

She’d longed for him for fifteen years, but with him right here, the emotions were bubbling to the surface. She had to pray and stay stronger than ever.

Robbie couldn’t be Big Buddha’s next victim, and her heart couldn’t be Robbie’s.