make an overtly feminine comment to a male agent, and on a job to boot.
“Thanks, but she isn’t mine.” Carlos turned to leave.
“And here I’d given you credit for not trying to wonk me with a line of bullshit,” Rae added. “Be safe. We’ll take care of your woman.”
Carlos sighed and left.
Gabrielle wasn’t his to keep, but he intended to ensure Roberto never bothered her again.
GABRIELLE WALKED OUT of the bathroom in a terry robe provided by the hotel. She was drying her hair with a towel when she stopped in the middle of the living area.
“And where is Carlos?” she asked Rae and Korbin.
“He’s busy, luv.” Rae flipped through the magazine in her lap. Korbin didn’t move from his reclined position. Head back, eyes shut, and breathing almost undetectable. Was he asleep?
So Carlos refused to shower with her, then just left without a word? What was going on with him? Gabrielle strangled the towel in her tight grip, sick of sly and evasive answers.
“That’s not enough of an answer, luv,” Gabrielle snapped back.
Rae paused in scanning the magazine, lifted a curious gaze, sighed, then continued flipping through the bloody magazine.
“Where. Is. He?” Gabrielle demanded.
“Busy,” Korbin said without opening his eyes. “That’s all we can tell you right now, but he should be back by daylight.”
Cracking a bank safe would be easier than pulling anything out of those two.
“Fine.” Gabrielle hated the disappointment so thick in her throat it crowded that one word. She turned back to the bedroom and closed the door.
By the time she’d finished dressing in jeans and a white sweater, Gabrielle heard what sounded like food being served. Stay in the room and pout over being blown off by Carlos or go out and see what she could squeeze out of those two in the other room while she ate?
She thought clearer on a full stomach anyhow.
Gabrielle opened the door to the succulent aroma of dishes being uncovered and placed around a table with four chairs. Rae and Korbin were already digging in.
Gabrielle sat in front of the only unclaimed meal on the table. “So you don’t expect Carlos back in time to eat?”
Korbin shoved a piece of steak into his mouth, conveniently sidestepping the conversation.
“Not sure.” Rae pushed each food on her plate apart so that nothing touched. “We’d like to discuss some things while he’s gone.”
That played into what Gabrielle had in mind. “Sure. I’ve got a few questions of my own.”
Rae finished sorting her food and raised her vivid gaze to Gabrielle’s. “I give you points for persistence, but you lose a few for being slow on the uptake. We don’t answer questions. We ask them. To begin with, tell me about Babette Saxe.”
Gabrielle’s mouth gaped open. She might have earned Carlos’s trust, but he’d lost hers by exposing Babette to this group.
CARLOS WALKED SOFTLY through the ostentatious bedroom cast in twilight from the lights of Milano outside a wall of glass overlooking the city. Roberto’s security was all show and little substance.
What idiot stayed in a place this vulnerable?
An arrogant one.
If Carlos had faced dealing with more than one bodyguard to gain access to the penthouse, he could just as easily have rappelled one floor to the balcony beyond the glass doors.
Hell, he could probably have jumped from the roof.
When he reached the bed, it was all he could do not to break out laughing. Roberto’s dark brown hair was thick, just below his ears, styled and sprayed into the perfect shape. The guy lay spread eagle on top of red silk sheets. He wore skimpy black underwear.
Was that a thong for men? Ugh.
That would make what Carlos had in mind even easier to execute.
Roberto’s toned form was too lightweight to have been the ripped body in that billboard Carlos had seen on the way here. Guess that was why they employ stuntmen and body doubles.
No stuntman to take the fall for Roberto tonight.
Carlos stepped close and flicked on the lamp next to the bed. The light glowed red. He rolled his eyes, imaging the lamp being used for mood lighting for the women this fool brought here.
“Wake up, Roberto,” Carlos ordered in a normal voice.
Roberto muttered something like “Go away.”
Carlos retrieved his switchblade and hit the release. He used the razor-sharp blade to flip a lock of hair onto the actor’s forehead. Roberto swatted, hitting himself in the face and coming awake growling.
He glanced at Carlos, then his eyes widened. “Bruno!”
“Your bodyguard is sound asleep.”
“Who are you? What do you want?” Roberto made those demands while scooting backward a few inches.
Carlos pointed the knife tip at Roberto’s face, freezing the weasel in place. “Be very still or I’ll be forced to contain you. Understand?”
Roberto nodded like a bobblehead doll on speed.
“Good. I’m here for one reason and don’t have a lot of time to waste on this. I know about all three attacks on Gabrielle and that you’re behind them. That ends now.”
“I don’t know what you’re-”
Carlos touched the knife tip to Roberto’s lips, stalling the denial.
“Remember the part about me being in a hurry?” Carlos lifted the knife from Roberto’s face and waited on the fast nod again before going on. He moved the blade down until he slipped it under one strap of Roberto’s thong.
“Oh, no…please, don’t.” Roberto sucked a sharp breath, trembling. His eyes stared at where the knife was a sneeze away from cutting Big Jim.
Or in this guy’s case, nipping Junior.
“I had no idea they could make a male thong that small,” Carlos taunted.
“Who are you?”
“Gabrielle’s new bodyguard, and I take my job seriously.”
“What the hell do you want?” Roberto yelled, the power in his voice fueled by a healthy load of fear.
That was more like it. This bastard had to pay for what he’d put Gabrielle through for the past ten years…and almost killing her today.
“What do I want?” Carlos echoed. “Very simple. Don’t ever bother Gabrielle again. Don’t even think about her in the future. Don’t go near her and don’t send any of your idiots to try to harm her again.”
“Okay, okay. I’m not admitting to anything,” Roberto added quickly. “But I swear not to have anything to do with Gabrielle in any way again.” The color started coming back into his face too fast to suit Carlos.
“You don’t really think I’d just take your word for this, do you?”
“Come on. I don’t even know what you’re talking about.”
Carlos slid the knife closer, nicking the skin.
Roberto wailed as if his leg had been cut off. Big mistake to let an enemy know how easily you bleed.
“Shut up or I will cut something off.”
Silence. Well, whimpering was quieter than Roberto screaming like a toddler who wanted a bottle.
“I’m going to give you a choice.” Carlos waited until he had Roberto’s full attention. “I can either carve a scar from your forehead, across your nose and down around your cheek to your ear or take your left nut.”
“Are you crazy?” Roberto ruined his insult by crying. “I’ll give you money, anything. Tell her I’m sorry. I’ll give her money. I never wanted to hurt her…”
Carlos rolled his eyes, waiting on the hysteria to subside.
