“Argh!” she cried out when he said nothing. She threw her hands in the air and then spun. “I’ll storm away this time.”
With that, she rushed through the patio doors. He watched her through the glass. She stalked across the main area and disappeared up the stairs.
Robbie sank into the chair, staring despondently out at the canals and buildings. What was he doing here? Keeping Alice safe was the standard answer he’d given himself, but any of the four capable men in the penthouse could keep her safe. All he had done was anger her. What had happened to the sweet, fun, and angelic girl he’d left behind? She’d become an angry and scarred woman. All the people close to her had been murdered by a madman, and she was left with her mom, who was a bitter, controlling grump in his opinion.
If only he could help Alice heal emotionally, be there for her like he used to. But he was nowhere close to that eighteen-year-old boy any longer, and he had no idea what Alice wanted or needed to heal.
Robbie had tried to convince himself that he didn’t want any kind of relationship with Alice and he was only coming to help protect her.He knew now he’d lied to himself. He wanted every part of Alice—emotionally, physically, spiritually, intellectually—just as he had fifteen years ago.
And she wanted nothing to do with him.
He scrubbed at his beard and then rubbed at the back of his neck.
What was he doing?
Chapter
Four
Alice hatedthe way she felt as she stormed to her room and slammed herself inside. She’d felt lonely for Robbie over the past fifteen years. She’d felt fear and horror as those she loved were murdered over the last year. But she hadn’t felt angry like this since the day Robbie left her. She didn’t like it. Her mother would say it was proof that Robbie was all wrong for her, just as she’d always said. That made her even more angry.
Alice loved her mother. She tried to be there for her. But she refused to let her mother control her life or who she associated with. Her mother had always wanted her to marry their closest family friend, Preston Lavity. Preston was polished, wealthy, and handsome. He was warm and patient with Alice, but she’d seen him be as mean as her mother to his staff and employees, and he was far too pretentious for her. Her mother had barely tolerated Jack, Natalie, and Ruby, and Alice had kept those relationships strong.
She gulped. Until her friends and boyfriend had been killed.
She’d been so lonely without Natalie and Ruby’s friendship. Jack had been a positive person and a successful lawyer. He was courteous to her and a good conversationalist. She’d enjoyed dating him and they’d been progressing toward a serious relationship, but she couldn’tsay she’d loved him. She’d never loved anyone like she’d loved Robbie.
She ignored the part of her that had been ecstatic to see and connect with Robbie again.
But Robbie …
How could he never have tried to reach out to her? Not a text, an email, a phone call? Yet she’d done the same. It was hypocritical of her to be so furious with him. Robbie had pursued her diligently when they first fell in love and maybe she had assumed he always would. Even though his line about loving a challenge had frustrated her earlier, she’d also secretly loved him using that same line again. Robbie knew what he wanted, and he went for it. She’d loved when she had been what he wanted.
Alice paced the room, then went out on the patio and studied the variety of architecture on the buildings nearby. She watched people go by on tiny sidewalks between buildings, or row or power by on small boats in the canal. The water was a grayish-blue; she’d heard it was dirty. She felt yucky inside. Should she apologize to Robbie, try to start fresh for these two weeks?
No. She was right there, where he’d left her, and he could have made a change at any point. He was the one who’d never come for her, and their last conversation—or rather fight—had been awful. He’d accused her mother of manipulating and controlling her and Alice of not having a backbone to stand up for herself and get away from the ‘toxic relationship’.
Get away from her own ailing and difficult mother. What kind of monster did that? Her mother would have no one besides their housekeeper Emeline and Priscilla Lavity, Preston’s mother and her lifelong friend. Priscilla was loyal and pleasant, but she was often away traveling with her husband.
Alice had been right to fight with Robbie and to feel all the anger, abandonment, and heartbreak.
Finally, she went inside and said an insincere prayer for help and to try to enjoy the experience of Venice and for Big Buddha to be captured and not kill anyone else. Then she lay down and thought she was asleep, but suddenly she could feel him. The huge, grotesque-lookingbuddha man closing in on her. How such a monstrosity could move so quick never ceased to amaze her.
“Help,” she croaked, too quiet for anyone to hear. Then, louder, “Help.”
Finally, she shrieked, “Help! Please help!”
The door to her room banged open and Alice shot up in bed. The light from the hallway silhouetted Robbie, wearing only a pair of shorts.
“Help,” she whispered, putting a hand to her throat, instantly needing a different kind of help. How could she stay safe emotionally from the man she’d always loved looking like Adonis—large and fit and manly?
Robbie rushed to her side, settling onto the mattress, which squeaked under his weight, and wrapping his warm palms around her shoulders. “Alice. Are you all right?”
“A nightmare,” she admitted. “Just a nightmare.”
River appeared in the doorframe.
“She had a nightmare,” Robbie told the bodyguard, his bright blue eyes steady on her face. His warm palms grounded her in reality and distracted her completely from the fear of moments before. His crisp mint, bergamot, and ginger scent wafted over her. “River, would you sweep the room and patio just in case? All these windows and patios are a security nightmare.”
