Murphy's Law (17 page)

Suddenly, with no warning, Nick was blasted away by sensory memories.

Long, silky limbs, milk-pale skin soft as a baby’s cheek, wet and tight…

Christ!
Nick shook his head, shaken at the intensity of the flashback. He was semi-aroused and disgusted at himself. What the fuck had brought that on? Maybe it was the concussion. That was the only explanation.

But one thing was certain. He cared for Faith and because he did, he needed to ask the next question.

What she had told Dante about her first months on the job had shaken him. He’d had no idea…

All last fall and last winter, when they’d seen each other a couple of times a week unless his team was on an away game, she hadn’t let on. While he’d complained about his coach, and Lou had bitched endlessly about the guy two cubicles over in her office, Faith had listened to them in total sympathy, dispensing advice, and more often than not making them laugh with some ironic, totally dead-on comment about the coach’s IQ and Lou’s office-mate’s creepiness. She hadn’t let on by so much as a whisper that her boss was making her life a living hell.

“Why didn’t you tell us you were being harassed?”

She looked up, surprised, the fork halfway to her mouth. She finished chewing and swallowed. “What?”

“By Kane. I heard what you told Dante. You should’ve told us you were going through a hard time. We had no idea.”

Nick didn’t know which was worse. The fact she hadn’t told him and Lou about her troubles when they were all supposed to be friends, or the completely blank look on her face right now, as if sharing troubles was a completely unknown concept to her.

The idea made him angry. Damn it, everybody had to have someone to care when times were tough. Lou had threatened to remove Coach Benson’s manhood with a dull spoon and the Rossi men had had a little talk with Lou’s nemesis. Two tall, broad-shouldered men had instilled the fear of God—or better yet, the fear of Rossi revenge—into the creep. He’d behaved himself after that.

Who had gone to bat for Faith?
He wanted to know, needed to know, that someone had been on her side, since he hadn’t been.

“Did you at least tell your parents?”

And just like that Faith shuttered down tighter than a Batmobile, eyes blank, mouth tight, and skin gone even paler. Nick’s balance slipped a little more. Good old Faith. Calm, rational, funny Faith had a whole side to her personality he hadn’t even suspected.
No family to back her up.
And her friends couldn’t even tell when she was in trouble.

She was staring at him fiercely like a wounded bird that didn’t want to be touched, and a huge surge of emotion caught him square in the chest. He looked away so she wouldn’t see it.

One thing he knew about Faith Murphy—she was astute. If she caught any whiff of the intense emotion he was feeling she would mistake it for pity and clam up even more.

It wasn’t pity Nick was feeling, or at least not all he was feeling.

Valor. The Code of the Jock. When you fell down, you mopped up the blood and picked yourself right back up again. And you never ever said that you hurt. It was what Faith had done. She had valor. The quiet, tough kind. She wasn’t going to talk about it.

Well, two could play at tough guy.

“So,” he said genially, digging into the
vitello tonnato.
“Who do you think offed the prof?”

Faith blinked and he watched as every muscle relaxed. So murder was a much easier topic to deal with than sex or a harassing boss.

“I don’t know,” Faith said thoughtfully. “But whoever it was, he deserves a medal.”

“Sounds like Kane would’ve had people lined up just waiting to do the job. Knifing someone in the heart is just about as up close and personal as it gets.” His eyes narrowed on her plate and he frowned. “What’s the use of Tullio cooking up something really good for you if you’re just going to stare at it?”

He watched pointedly until she put a forkful into her mouth. “That’s it,” he said with satisfaction. “So…who’s the guilty party? Unless…” He stopped and looked at her. “Unless you did it. Perfectly understandable if you did. I don’t mind. Unless, of course, you develop a taste for it and come after
me
with a knife.”

Faith gave a half laugh. “Truth is, I didn’t do it, though I thought about it.” She sighed. “A lot. Especially in the first few months. The man was insanely cruel. I imagine your cousin will order an autopsy. I’d like to know what Kane’s brain is like—he’s probably missing the hypothalamus.”

“Is that where feelings are?”

“Why, yes.” Faith blinked in surprise.

Nick finished off the last bite of his veal and pointed his fork at Faith. “There you go. You’re as bad as Lou. She’s always making cracks about dumb jocks. I’ll have you know that just because I don’t read that much, I did go to college—”

“Lou says you didn’t go to college… you went to sex camp,” Faith said acidly and Nick winced.

He held up his hands. “Okay, okay. Enough. So—who do you think did it?”

The humor died out of her eyes. “I don’t know,” she said, her voice dropping to a whisper. “I’m hoping it’s an outsider, some tramp who got into the
Certosa
, but…bottom line, I don’t know. It’s much more likely it’s one of us. Madeleine, Grif…I work with them every day. Professor Gori—he seems like such a nice, civilized man.”

“Civilization’s a thin shield,” Nick said. “On the ice and off.”

“Yes.” She sighed. “I don’t know, Nick. I just don’t know. I could say to you that it’s impossible the people I know could commit an act of violence, but then, I was the one who found the body and I saw it—the knife. The stiletto.” She shivered. “Like a stake through the heart.”

Nick covered her hand with his.

She let her hand rest under his for a moment, then shook it off. “Anyway, we’ve got your cousin on this guy’s trail.” She frowned. “Or the woman’s trail.”

“Dante.” Nick finished off his wine and caught Tullio’s eye. He mimed writing a check. “Dante’s smart, but I don’t think he’s got too much experience with homicide.”

“He’s a cop. Of course he does.”

“He’s an Italian cop. More to the point—a Sienese cop. The Sienese have too pleasant a life to indulge in murder. Though he did see a few dead bodies when he was stationed in Naples, I don’t think there are any murders in Siena.”

“What—people are better here?”

“Not better.” Nick handed over a credit card. “Happier. More content. There’s a difference.” He signed, left a big tip and smiled at Tullio, exchanging a few words.

They stepped back out into the street, lit now by cast iron lights on the walls replicating the torches that would have lit the streets in the past.

Faith glanced at her watch. “I need to get back to the Certosa. I think the gate closes at ten.”

“No, there’ll be a police guard tonight. I asked. I’ll get you to the
Certosa
and, if you can pack your bags quickly, you can be in bed by ten.”

Her jaw dropped. “Why should I pack and where will I be by ten?”

“Hmm?” Nick was walking along with a half-smile on his face. They’d turned the corner into the
Piazza del Campo
. The
piazza
at night was like a fairytale land. A crescent moon rose above the bell tower of city hall and two stars twinkled. One of them, doubtless Venus, was sending her wayward rays to mess with the minds of otherwise sane men and women.

There was a deep buzz, the conversation of hundreds of people, laughing and talking on a summer’s night, accompanied by the percussion of hundreds of feet. The sound of it was almost a living thing.

It was
Palio
time. All was right with the world. He turned to Faith. “You’ll be staying at my grandparents’ place. They have a nice summer house in the country, not far from the
Certosa
. Don’t worry. I cleared it with Dante. And my grandparents are nice people, you’ll like them.”

Faith frowned. “I have no doubt your grandparents are nice people. But I fail to understand why you think I’ll be staying with them when I’m staying at the Certosa.”

“Now, Faith,” Nick said reasonably. “You don’t think I’m going to let you stay in a building where there’s a murderer on the loose, do you? Lou’d have my head.”

“Well, since it’s only there for decorative purposes, that’s no great loss,” Faith said between her teeth. “Listen, Nick, I can’t imagine why you think you’d have a say over my sleeping arrangements. I am absolutely
not
staying with your grandparents. I am staying at the Certosa, with the rest of the participants and where I’m in the middle of an important conference.”

“Now, look—”

“No, you look.” Faith wheeled and faced him. “Nick, get this through your head. You don’t need to atone for anything. You don’t need to hover over me or worry about me. And I certainly don’t want you interfering with my job. This conference is my big chance to show what I can do. It’s also a chance to network and get to know some of the people in my field without Professor Kane running interference. I want—I
need
—to be on site as much as possible and not be ferried back and forth. This is my big chance and I won’t have it ruined for me because you seem to harbor totally unjustified guilty feelings about a perfectly harmless roll in the hay. Have I made myself clear?”

“Totally,” Nick said. “I’ll see if they can let me sleep over at the Certosa.”

Chapter Ten

If you’re feeling good, you’ll get over it.

It had been a great meal. But all the warm, fuzzy feelings Faith had for Nick over dinner had evaporated by the time they topped the last rise and the Certosa suddenly appeared—massive yet graceful, a powerful gem set off by the dark spears of cypress trees.

But neither spared the Certosa a glance.

They’d been arguing all the way and Faith was about ready to take a hockey stick to Nick’s other leg. She’d pleaded and cajoled and threatened. When Nick said he would pretend to be a participant, she laughed. Nick’s jaw had tightened, but he didn’t give in.

“Look,” she said finally, exasperated. “What am I going to do? I won’t be able to deal with you. I’m going to be busy. I’m supposed to be helping with the organization. I’ve been given a meeting to chair and two meetings to co-chair, and I have to bone up on them and on the work of the other co-chairs. There’s a lot of work involved and you’ll just be in my way.”

“I won’t be in your way.” Nick’s teeth were gritted. “I’ll just sleep there and get out in the morning. I’m hooking up with Dante tomorrow morning anyway. You’ll be okay in the daytime. Damn it, Faith, for someone who’s so smart, you’re being really dumb about this.”

“Dumb?
Dumb
?” Faith’s voice rose. “I’m being
dumb
because I don’t want to trip over you during the most important days of my life? That’s rich coming from
you.
The guy who took six years to get through high school.”

“Five.
Five years.” Nick’s overlarge jaw muscles bunched and he thumped the steering wheel.

She figured if he’d had more room, he probably would have used more body language. The car was too small for someone of Nick’s size. When he’d squeezed into the driver’s seat, he’d grunted and groped until he’d managed to find something under the seat that shot it back to its full extension. It was still a tight fit, but at least his knees didn’t top the steering wheel.

He shifted a gear so hard it ratcheted. His entire profile was hard, tense.

He was angry. That was fine. Fine
.
She was angry, too.

Thoughts and stomach churning, Faith stared blindly out the car window, seeing nothing, until Nick jerked the car to a stop, throwing her against the seat belt so hard it caught.

“Nice driving, ace.”

Nick’s jaw muscles bunched again and he threw her a sulphurous look. He unsnapped his seat belt and maneuvered his way out of the car. When Faith realized he was coming around the car to open her door, she shot out by herself and moved toward the entrance.

They were on the gravel driveway, and his shoes made a loud crunching sound as he followed her, his limp making the noise irregular.
Crunch
, crunch,
crunch
, crunch…

Faith had almost made it to the big wooden door when he growled and caught her arm. He turned her around and, when she opened her mouth to argue, he covered her mouth with his and her brain shorted.

Total static.

Faith plummeted from an IQ of one hundred fifty-five to zero in point-three seconds. She moved her mouth mindlessly under his, blasted by heat and lust.
Closer…
she needed him closer and she threw her arms around his thick, strong neck and tunneled her fingers in his hair.

Somewhere amidst the popping neurons, she knew that what they were doing would lead to mind-bending pleasure. She knew that for a fact.

Nick’s big hand held her head for his kiss as he deepened it and she whimpered…

“Faith?”

She jolted and tried to pull away.

“Faith?”

Oh God, Tim.
With great reluctance, she wrenched her mouth away.

Nick bent again and she turned her head, wishing she didn’t have to. But kissing Nick in front of Tim was too soap opera for her. Both men had been her lovers. Exactly once, but still…

Besides, she wasn’t supposed to want to kiss Nick. She was supposed to be mad at him.

She pushed, hard, and Nick opened his big hands.

Tim came forward, smoothing down his wispy hair that had escaped the small, thin ponytail at the nape of his neck. “Do you need help, Faith?”

If she did, Tim wasn’t it. Looking at the two of them, she had a little moment of reality distortion. Tim—short and tubby and flabby. Nick—tall and strong and athletic. Did Tim actually think he could defend her against Nick?

“Okay.” Nick shifted on his feet. “Who’s this?”

“Uh, Nick Rossi, meet Tim Gresham. He’s…uh, he’s a colleague of mine. At the university.”

Tim shot her a wounded gaze, as if she should have said—
this is Tim Gresham, with whom I have wild and crazy sex four times a day
.

“Tim, Nick plays—used to play—for the Hunters.”