Rebecca Winters: The Bride of Montefalco

There was a curious silence, then, “Gino.”

She stirred restlessly in the seat.

“Which may or may not be your real name, but at least it’s something to call you.”

“Besides bastard you mean?” he interjected in a wry tone.

Caught off guard, Ally laughed softly. She couldn’t help it.

“Actually that’s what I felt like calling the guard when he wouldn’t help me with my suitcase on the train. Even at your worst, you were more of a gentleman.”

She heard him draw in what sounded like a tortured breath. “I owe you an apology.”

She flicked him a covert glance. “If I ever get to meet your employer, I’ll be able to vouch for your fierce loyalty to him. It’s no wonder he keeps you on his payroll. Every man who’s a target should have such a trusted bodyguard.”

By now they’d left the little village of Remo and were driving through fields of sunflowers with a hot Italian sun shining down.

“How do you know so much about him?”

She studied her hands. “I know very little apart from the obvious facts.”

“Which are?” he prodded.

“He’s rich, titled and has lost his wife. If he loved her desperately, then my heart goes out to him.”

“What about your heart?” he whispered.

“If you’re asking if it was shattered by my husband’s death, then yes.” If you’re wondering if his probable infidelity has wounded me, then yes. But because she’d waited too long to try to fix what was wrong between them, Jim’s unexpected death had brought on guilt she couldn’t seem to throw off.

Gino drove along the maze of country roads with what appeared to be long accustomed practice and expertise.

Once upon a time she would have loved traveling through the countryside, but right now she was numb to the world around her.

The next time he stopped, her bleary eyes took in a yellowed, three-story farmhouse that looked quite ancient.

“Where are we?”

“My home,” he announced before helping her from the car.

He carried her suitcase and told her to follow him. She didn’t question him as they entered the foyer and climbed some stairs to the next floor.

He opened a door on his left. “You’ll be comfortable in here, Mrs. Parker. The en suite bathroom is through that door. I’ll ask my housekeeper Bianca to bring you a tray. Sleep well. We’ll talk later.”

“Yes, we will. I’d like my husband’s laptop back.”

“All in good time.”

As she was coming to find out, it was his favorite saying.

He placed her suitcase on the aged hardwood floor, then left and shut the door behind him.

Straight ahead of her was a four-poster double bed with a comfy looking white quilt. She was so tired, she removed her outer clothes and climbed under the covers. Ally didn’t remember her head touching the pillow.

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