She’d been aware of his dominance in the sport, his name batted about everywhere in Colorado, unknowingly tossing coals on the pain that burned in her.
Then, within four years, he’d faded from the news, which was a relief to her. In fact, she’d never once considered that she would ever cross paths with Mario. She’d certainly never entertained the idea of working with him, even remotely.
It just wasn’t possible. The idea of forcing her to do so turned her stomach.
But whether that happened or not, she would return home as soon as possible. There was no way she could stay and finish what she’d barely started, even though abandoning her job would kill all plans for her lodge.
She had to retreat to her safe zone. And abandon her dream?
No! Running away would convince Mario he’d bested her again. But how could she stay here, knowing he could come upon her any second?
Her mind whirled with a solution as she waited for the elevator door to open, but nothing was coming to mind. Nothing except the urge to find Luciano and throw herself into his arms. Strong fingers wrapped around her arm and held tight and her heart nearly stopped.
Had Mario found her? Was she in his grip again?
She tried to twist free, panic bubbling up her throat when she couldn’t break his hold. “I’ll scream if you don’t let go of me.”
“Bella,” Luciano said, enfolding her trembling body against his, pulling her into his arms. “What has terrified you so?”
How was she supposed to answer that? Certainly not with the truth, not when her attacker was in the lodge, clearly a friend of Julian’s and of Luciano’s as well. Dear God, what a monumental mistake she’d made aligning herself with an Italian, even if he was a man she’d started to trust again.
She wanted to be strong and push him away, presenting a brave face. Wanted so desperately to shun his comfort. But held close against his muscled chest, where she heard the steady drum of his heart, she was lost, burrowing against him like a child in a storm, tears smarting her eyes.
If only the past hadn’t happened. If only...
“Come.” He escorted her down the hall to his private elevator and pressed his thumb on the security pad.
“I’m okay,” she said as the door swished open seconds later.
“No, you are not.” He ushered her inside and punched the up button, all the while keeping her caged in his embrace.
“Really, I’m fine. Maybe I’m still jumpy over the avalanche,” she said, and yet she was reluctant to let go of him.
His sigh rumbled through her. “That was a horrific experience.”
She loosed a nervous laugh. “One I never wish to repeat.”
He clasped her shoulders and levered her from him, his shrewd gaze scrutinizing her. “I should have refused to take you up there.”
“It happened, like most accidents do. It’s over. If I have flashbacks they are mine to deal with.”
“As well I know,” he said bitterly, looking away.
She cupped his jaw and forced his gaze back to her. It was far easier to be the inquisitor than the one questioned. “You revisit the accident again and again?”