Vinny: Alvarez Security Series (10 page)

He saw her nod slowly, digesting this information. Hesitating for a moment, he continued, “And we have to face the possibility that with the police and dogs at the hotel this morning, someone could have been trying to frame you.” Her sudden intake of breath had him looking over.

Her green eyes were wide with fright, her mouth opening and closing like a fish.
Her delectable, kissable mouth.

“But who’d want to frame me? I’m…I’m…not…,” faltering, she snapped her mouth shut in anger.

“I don’t know who’d do that or why, other than to take suspicion off of themselves. But right now, your har…I mean, Eashadh is heading with a former DEA agent who will meet with a group of other DEA and FBI agents to analyze the situation and let Tony know how to plan for your safety.”

Silence filled the car once again as she mulled over his answers to her question. Deciding to pull her out of her musings, he said, “You never finished telling me about your mother and how you became a harp player.”

She turned back to him, a little smile once again on her face. “That’s right. Well, I told you that my mother was a violinist, but she also taught music. My father was an orchestra conductor. He’s…not a patient man, but mom had all the patience in the world. She loved playing, but I think she loved teaching more.”

“So did she teach you?”

“At first, yes. I had my first violin when I was four years old,” she admitted.

His eyes jerked over to hers, a look of confusion on his face. “Four? How the hell did you even hold it?”

Laughing, she answered, “They make them sized for children. Mine was tiny.”

He loved hearing her laugh.
Hell, I love hearing her speak. I can’t remember the last conversation I had with a woman that didn’t involve ‘flip over’ or ‘are you coming yet’.
Suddenly feeling like a world-class prick, he ground his teeth together. He glanced back over at her, now facing the front window, watching the scenery pass by, her profile a study in perfection. Long, thick, dark hair pulled back with a clip away from her face, a few strands loose and framing her face. Even her neck was delicate. He saw her pulse beating and wanted to pull the SUV over long enough to just taste her neck. Feel the life of her beat under his lips.
And maybe give her a little bite…just enough to taste…and mark her as mine.

He had not given a woman a love bite since high school and yet the desire to do so now, with this woman, was almost overwhelming. Shifting slightly to ease his erection, he said gruffly, “Continue.”

“I’m sorry. You must think me a terrible story teller,” she giggled. “I suppose I always get this way when talking about mom. Anyway, she taught me the violin when I was very young. I also learned the viola and cello. But my love was the harp. When I was only ten and at one of their symphonies, a beautiful harpist was the soloist for the evening. She floated out in a gown…I thought she was a princess.”

Vinny thought about seeing Annalissa at the concert the other evening and could understand the comparison.
I sure as hell thought she looked like a princess.

“My mom bought me a Celtic harp and that began my love affair with harps. My father wanted me to learn. He liked the idea that his daughter was not just going to be in the orchestra but would often be front and center. He…likes the…showmanship of the instrument as much as the sound.”

He heard the faltering words when she talked about her father and continued to dislike the man even before meeting him. And he would be meeting him.

His eyes stayed on the rear-view mirror for several miles while listening to her. He wished he could focus just on her, but he had noticed the same vehicle behind them for a while. She did not seem to notice, for which he was glad. He wanted her to focus on happy times and princess dresses…not on the probability that she was in danger.

“Celtic harp?” he queried.

“It’s a mid-sized harp, although you can get them small enough to sit on your lap. They’re much smaller than the large standing pedal harps. I can play any of them, but my favorite is the Celtic.”

“Is that what Easnadh is?” he asked, wanting to keep her talking but also finding that he wanted to learn everything about her.

“Yes, although her story is very interesting. An old woman died in New York without close relatives and when the city sent some people in, they found that her house was filled to the brim with…stuff. The old lady had gone dumpster diving for years and her three-story brownstone was filled with a lot of junk and some antiques. The auction company contacted my teacher, Mr. Feinstein, when a few old musical instruments were found because he is also an expert on antique instruments. Most were old but not antique. But then they brought him an old, beat-up harp, strings broken and in horrible shape. But he recognized its value and bought it from them and then spent almost a year meticulously restoring it. He had it analyzed and, believe it or not, it was a true antique. Over one hundred and thirty years old! Can you even begin to imagine all of the people that have played her? And to think that I’m one of them!”

Vinny glanced over once more and his breath caught in his throat. Her green eyes sparkled with excitement and her smile lit up his world. A foreign feeling swept over him, one of passion born of…
what? Protectiveness? Concern? Friendship? Is this what I feel? After only three days?
All he knew was that at that moment, the idea of waking up to that face, those eyes, that smile every day was all he wanted. He moved one hand from the steering wheel to rub his chest, a strange ache in his heart.
What would I give to have that passion aimed toward me?

“S
o what happened
to the harp?” he asked, finding himself truly interested in her story.

“After Mr. Feinstein restored it, he gave it to me.”

“Gave it to you?” he asked incredulously.

“I know, right?” she said, nodding vigorously. “But he said that I was his best student and that I should have the honor of playing on it always.”

Her voice became soft once again and he looked over to see the wistfulness in her expression. “My father loved the publicity,” she added. “The New York Times ran a huge article on the restored harp and the conductor’s daughter who plays it.”

“I take it you didn’t like the publicity?”

“I’m just…not that into…the spotlight. I play because I love it.” Laughing, she added, “But I do get to dress up like a princess. I named the harp Easndah because it is the muse for my music.”

Several more miles passed on the long straight highway, the scenery flying by. Vinny had lost sight of the car he thought may have been following, but he was not letting down his guard. Traffic was not heavy, but he knew they could have just backed off.

“Anyway,” she sobered, “mom died and I had my degree in music performance but stayed an extra year to obtain my teaching degree as well.”

“Teaching?” he asked.

“That’s my first love, besides playing Easndah. I’d love to teach, but my father was furious when I stayed that extra year. He refused to pay, so I worked in small clubs and taught on the side to make the money I needed.”

As much as Vinny wanted her to tell him all about herself, he was getting more and more angry at her father.
Sounds like an asshole
.

Watching the flat land all around, Annalissa was fascinated with the scenery. She relaxed back into her seat, feeling peaceful.
When was the last time I talked about my mom? Or talked about my father without getting so nervous.
She realized how easy it was to talk to Vinny. Sliding her gaze sideways, she watched his profile.
God, he’s gorgeous.
He seemed genuinely interested in me, but then he probably has lots of women that want to talk to him.
Remembering the actions of the flight attendant, a frown crossed her face.
I’m such a dork. What would he ever want with me?

“You getting hungry?” he asked, his rich voice pulling her out of her thoughts. The growl coming from her stomach was his answer. Chuckling, he said, “I’ll take that as a ‘yes’. There’s a stop up ahead where I can get some gas and we can grab some food.”

“That’s perfect. To be honest, I could use a bathroom break as well. Too much coffee this morning,” she said with a blush.

Fuckin’ adorable,
he thought, but wished she had said something earlier. “Babe, if you need to stop for any reason, you let me know. I don’t want you uncomfortable.”

She nodded, the blush still visible from the tops of her breasts to her hairline. They pulled into a large truck stop convenience center and parked close to where he could keep an eye on the vehicle from inside.

By the time she was unbuckled, he had appeared at her door, offering his hand to assist. Walking toward the building, he wrapped his arm around her shoulder as they went in. Looking up at him, she wondered about the act of intimacy. At least it was intimate to her.
To him?
I’m sure he’s had his arm around tons of women.
Wishing this assumption did not bother her as much as it did, she lifted her chin slightly as they entered the building.

He nodded toward the back where the restrooms were and she quickly took care of her business. Exiting the room, she saw him standing against the wall across from her, one leg crossed in front of the other, his muscular arms crossed over his chest. His face relaxed into a sexy smile as soon as she saw him.

“Are you waiting for me?” she asked, looking around.

He pushed off of the wall toward her, swinging his arm around her shoulders once again as he propelled them toward the food court. Curiosity filled her as she wondered why he seemed to stay so close but she had to admit, it felt wonderful.
I can pretend, can’t I? That he’s into me, just for this little while.

Vinny saw the appreciative looks that came their way. He did not care about the ones aimed at him from the ladies and for the first time realized that he had no interest in them at all. But his blood pressure rose from the ones coming from the men, openly ogling Annalissa. Looking down at her, he saw that she was oblivious.
She’s got no fuckin’ idea that she’s a walking wet-dream.
While he appreciated her innocence, he cursed her niavete.
Awareness could keep her safer.
Giving the men a glare that had them looking away, he marched her up to the counter.

She quickly ordered a hamburger and french fries, with a chocolate shake, before he ordered the same, only doubled.

They found a table where he could keep his eye on their vehicle and dug into the food. She moaned in appreciation as she ate heartily.

“Gotta say I like to see a woman eat like she enjoys food instead of picking at everything,” he commented.

She grinned while shoving in a french fry loaded with ketchup. “I love food. It’s a wonder I’m not as big as a horse.” She saw his eyes roam over her figure, appreciation flaring there. It was a heady feeling to think that a man as virile as Vinny could find her attractive. Blushing, she looked back down to concentrate on her lunch.

As they finished, she headed back to the restroom one more time and when she came out, found Vinny standing like before, right outside. He had a bag in his hand and once again threw his arm around her as they walked to the car.

“Take the bag, please,” he gently ordered, handing it to her. She did, remembering his request that she follow his directions even if they did not make sense to her. Seeing his gun holster under his jacket, she realized that with his left arm around her and his right hand now free, he would be able to reach his gun. Suddenly nervous, she began to look around as well.

He felt the tenseness enter her body and rubbed his fingers along her shoulders before sliding them underneath her hair and around her neck. “I got this, babe,” he said.

Babe. He sometimes calls me babe.
She loved the sound of it as it came from deep inside of him, resonating through her.
He probably calls every woman ‘babe’.
But somehow it made her feel special.
If he just called me Ms. O’Brian, I would only be a job to him. But ‘babe’? Even if I’m one of a million women he calls ‘babe’…
grinning to herself,
I like it.

He jumped into the driver’s seat quickly as soon as he had her buckled in. She had relaxed as they walked the rest of the way to the car but he knew she was picking up on his tenseness. He eyed the car that matched what had been following them earlier, but was unable to identify the occupants.

The problem with HWY 70 was that it was long and flat and was the main road between Kansas City and St. Louis. Filled with travelers, vacationing families, and truckers. Anyone following could be innocently traveling the road. Or watching them.

Pulling quickly onto the highway again, he kept an eye on the car that was slowly circling the parking lot. Breathing a sigh of relief when he did not see them following, he glanced sideways as he heard a soft voice asking, “Are we okay?”

Reaching over to link his fingers with hers, he smiled, saying, “Yeah. We’re good.” Giving them a little squeeze he added, “Thanks for listening and following my directions without questioning,”

She smiled at the compliment as she leaned back to get comfortable. “What was in the bag anyway?”

“Snacks.”

“We just ate,” she exclaimed.

“You never know when we might get hungry,” he answered, grinning.

They settled into a companionable silence for a while as the miles of Missouri slid by. Annalissa finally giggled, causing Vinny to look over quickly.

She turned to him with an adorable smile on her face. “This sounds silly, but have you noticed that there are long stretches of cornfields only broken up by the billboards for girlie shows at these places along the road?”

She began to blush as he quirked an eyebrow at her. “I…um…well, I just thought…that the only thing here was corn and porn.”

Just then they passed another building in the middle of nowhere with a large sign above, advertising the ‘topless dancers’, with truckers in the parking light. She could not hold back the embarrassed giggles.

Vinny found himself chuckling, both at her goofy description and the sound of her laughter. He could not remember the last time he shared an innocent laugh with a woman.
Or a laugh with an innocent woman.