This time his brows pulled together as he thought about what I said. “Does this have to do with your father forcing you to marry some guy? Are you in danger?”
My heart sank. The hours of bliss with him were about to come crashing down on both of us. I’d forgotten what I said to him as I was falling asleep last night until he reminded me just now. Now he would expect an explanation.
“It’s complicated.”
“I’ve been a sniper for the US Government for almost ten years, trust me, I can handle complicated.”
I shook my head, trying to pull free from his hold. “I can’t. Not yet.”
“Izzy, you’re making this much harder than it needs to be. I’d like to help if I can, but I can’t do anything if you don’t tell me what’s going on.”
I sighed. He was right. At the very least I could use his help getting out of town. I needed clothes and he could get them for me. I had more than enough money for any immediate incidentals. “How about we make a deal?”
“Depends on the deal,” he said, frowning.
“It’s sunny and gorgeous outside, I’m hungry and I’d like to have a little more fun before reality comes crashing down on us.” I looked up at him, biting my lip. “Can I have a couple of more hours where we don’t worry about anything more than that and then I’ll tell you what I can?”
He stared at me looking a lot like he wanted to argue with me. I really didn’t know what I was going to do. Telling him too much about my family could lead us both into danger. By running away I’d become a liability and I wasn’t too naive to realize that.
Push comes to shove, me keeping my mouth shut might mean the difference between a clean getaway and someone getting hurt. I wasn’t ever allowed to forget all that I learned about my father and his illegal dealings. Now I only needed to worry about whether he was concerned about what I might know. Damn, this situation was complicated. I really needed to think this through.
“How about brunch on the rooftop?”
I blinked, his question pulling me out of my maudlin thoughts. I focused on him and smiled. “That would be absolutely perfect.”
Chapter Nine
Houston
Houston rounded the corner to the rooftop pool and smiled when he passed the spot he’d fucked his princess the first time. That lounge chair was going to hold a special place in his memory for some time to come.
He lifted his gaze to seek out the woman in question to find her chair empty. Probably in the ladies head.
Back in his room he forced himself to put all his questions on ice and give her the time she requested. Now, however, it was time to get down to business. The knot in his stomach was continuing to grow the longer they waited. He was a man of action and this waiting was killing him.
She was trying to bury her head in the proverbial sand over her situation, which he suspected might be serious.
As he neared their space he noticed Izzy’s glass shattered on the ground by her chair. Her small white purse also on the ground. He jerked around and searched the area. No sign of Izzy or anyone else. Houston’s heart raced. He backtracked to the head and stormed into the ladies room.
“Izzy,” His voice echoed through the small room as he pounded on each of the empty stalls. “Shit.”
Panic squeezed his heart. Something was very wrong.
He returned to their chairs and collected her purse. It seemed unlikely she’d wander off without this. Women guarded these idiotic things like their lives depended on it. With the gut feeling that something bad happened driving him, Houston slipped open the zipper and pawed through her meager belongings. His hand wrapped around a thick roll of bills and pulled them out.
What the hell?
He flipped through the money, counting as he went. For some reason she was carrying around several thousand dollars.
Digging deeper he pulled out a drivers license that read Isabelle Martin with a local Seattle address listed on it. He slid the card into his back pocket in case he needed it later and searched for anything else that might give him a clue about what was going on. Pocket after pocket he found nothing of consequence. He crumpled the little bag in his fist.
Think.
He shoved the money back in her bag, scraping his finger across a zipper he’d not noticed the first time he searched. He slid it open and fished out another Washington State drivers license. A more recent photo of Izzy greeted him this time that made him curious about the age of the one in his pocket. But it was the rest of the information presented that made his blood run cold. Particularly her name.
Isabella Mazzeo.
Ten years away didn’t mean he didn’t recognize the name as soon as he saw it. There were some things too powerful to ever be forgotten. And the name Mazzeo was one of them.