It was as if a valve had been opened and all of the weight of what had happened—the grim reality of why they both were seated in this vehicle together in the first place—released with each soft giggle that rolled off Chiara’s tongue.
“Are you finished?” he asked, feeling less impatient than his gruff voice suggested.
Deep down, though, he was relieved. Hearing about her harrowing ordeal had him on the razor's edge, too, and filled with a fury that he couldn't justify, but couldn't deny. Her distress at leaving Pietro was almost palpable, and if his discomfort behind the wheel of her miniature vehicle made her forget about all of that for even an instant, he should be thankful.
Having her at ease would make his job all the simpler. She would be more amenable to his instructions, more trusting of him. Less likely to question or challenge his commands when her life depended on letting him handle the lethal business he was born and bred to do.
He doused the headlights as he drove the car up the drive, parking beside the villa and killing the engine. “Stay here. I need to check the perimeter of the house and inside. Once it’s clear, I’ll come back for you.”
She shook her head and started to open her mouth, but he held up his hand to silence her.
“You will follow my orders without questions or argument. That was our agreement, remember?”
“I wasn't going to argue,” she replied stiffly, the grin that had been tugging at her lips just a moment before fading away like the sun at dusk. “I was just going to tell you that I had an alarm system installed in the villa a few weeks ago. In order to disarm it, you have to enter the code. Five, seven, seven, eight.”
Right.
He handed her the car keys, making sure not to touch her when he did. If he made physical contact with her after the torturous drive, or while the sweet scent of her still clung to his senses and the bright sound of her laughter was still echoing in his ears, he was liable to lose his mind.
Or worse, give in to the hunger she awakened in him.
Alone in his dark den of solitude, it was easier to ignore the pull of the flesh. Here with a beautiful, unmated female so close, he was playing with fire. And Chiara Genova made him want to burn.
Not good at all.
“Slide over to the driver's side and lock the door when I leave,” he commanded in a brusque voice. “If I'm not back in five minutes, don't come inside. Start the car and drive away as fast as you can. Head straight back to the Order headquarters. Understand?”
“Scythe, if you think I would turn around and leave you here by your—”
“Damn it, woman.” His frustration exploded out of him, motivated chiefly by concern for her. “Just tell me you’ll fucking do what I say.”
She drew back, her cheeks going pale at his sharp rebuke. “All right, Scythe. I will. I’ll stay until you come for me.”
There was a spark of indignation, even defiance, in her wide brown eyes, but he didn’t have time to test her. Nor did he have the time—or the skills—to try to soothe her. He had a job to do, and the less he had to worry about ruffling her feathers or calming her afterward, the better things would be for both of them.
Regardless of that, he dug deep and called up an image of young Pietro to remind himself of exactly what was at stake here for both of them. Of course, things were tense. It was a life or death situation and she was now separated from her child for the first time. Even Scythe had to admit she was handling it better than he’d expected.
“Five minutes, Chiara. If I don’t return by then, leave and don’t look back.”
He exited the car, sniffing the night air for signs of trouble. So far, his danger antenna was still, and he didn't detect anything out of the ordinary. Fertile, rich soil, the sharp scent of fermentation, sugary grapes and the luscious sweetness of Chiara's skin permeated his senses and he blocked it out with a muttered oath.
He moved stealthily around the back of the sprawling villa to the door that opened into the kitchen. The locks turned free under the power of his mind, then he opened the door and entered on silent feet. No need for Chiara’s alarm code; he disabled the flashing sensors with a flick of his thoughts as he stepped farther inside the darkened house.
No signs of trouble as he gazed around the kitchen and into the great room. The place was quiet, no one here now and no evidence that anyone had been there in the time since Chiara had left earlier tonight. The sense of malevolence Scythe would have felt if there was a threat of imminent danger inside the villa was notably absent.
Although he trusted his innate ability, he still made a quick sweep of every room and every point of entry. When it came to keeping Chiara safe, he was leaving nothing left to chance.