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  “He’s your bodyguard, not mine. I hired him to protect you when I’m not around.”

  “Yes,” Caroline agreed, “but I want you protected as well, and there’s no sense in telling me that you can guard the both of us just fine on your own because it won’t make me feel any better. I love you just as much as you love me and Alexander Brickman is a very dangerous man. Now I’m sorry if it hurts your ego, but I think we can use all the help we can get. Brickman has an advantage: he’s willing to kill to get what he wants. He’s already proven that.”

  “And I’m willing to kill to keep you safe.”

  His voice held no emotion in its resoluteness and Caroline frowned. What he didn’t say was that he’d die to save her, but she knew he’d deliberately put himself in harm’s way if it meant saving her life. “I know that,” she replied softly. “But you need protection too.”

  “Well, there’s no point in discussing it anymore; the decision has already been made to bring Jae along.”

  “My point exactly,” Caroline said and felt an automatic spurt of triumph go through her. It was short-lived, however, as the reason for Jae’s presence reasserted itself. “At any rate --” she was rudely interrupted by a jaw-crackling yawn. Her own. She scowled because exhaustion had hit her with a sudden punch. “Oh, excuse me…darn it,” she muttered sleepily. Abruptly it felt as if her body were carrying at least an extra fifty pounds. Slumping against Brian, she slurred, “You ha-haveta pro -- (another huge yawn) “Shoot -- pardon. I’m so sorry.”

  She pressed a soft kiss against his neck in amends and he began to smooth his hand over her hair soothingly. “Don’t fight it, baby. Just go to sleep.”

  Caroline burrowed into him some more. “I will, but you have to promise me that you’ll be careful, Bri…I mean it would be ridic’lous to take…take…”

  Brian grinned when he felt her go completely limp against him and when the sound of soft snores reached his ears; he smiled some more and shook his head. The pregnancy brought exhaustion quickly and completely, making her fall asleep at the oddest times and in the oddest places. He’d even found her asleep on the commode the week before. He kissed her forehead and chuckled. “Pleasant dreams, sweetheart.” He reached over and turned off the bedside lamp.

  His amusement was cut short when thoughts of Alexander Brickman intruded once again. The man had turned out to be their own personal menace. An amateur photographer, Caroline had been on one of her Saturday morning jaunts just after they’d started dating. She had inadvertently taken Brickman’s picture, and, unbeknownst to them, drawn the man’s obsessive attention. Brian sighed. Almost since Caroline and he had met, the threat of Brickman had been hovering over them like an ominous cloud. Wanted by several law enforcement agencies, the other man had been on the run for at least a decade.

  Brian supposed that was something they could be grateful for. If Brickman didn’t have to keep moving so often or stay in hiding, he might have been successful in kidnapping Caroline by now. He stared at nothing in the darkness as thoughts of Brickman continued to fill his head. He hated to admit it, but he was afraid; afraid he wouldn’t be able to protect his wife. Drug lord, arms merchant, murderer, international fugitive -- this was the man who was after her. He shook his head in impotent anger, wishing there was something more he could do. Caroline shifted and mumbled, and Brian tightened his hold protectively as he absently planted a kiss on her forehead. “I’m not going to let him anywhere near you,” he promised softly in the darkness.

  Chapter Two

  Procida Island, Italy

  Jonathan Brickman rolled off his lover; a gorgeous Italian beauty he never would have believed would give someone like him the time of day. Often described as lumbering and dense, he was oversized, with thinning hair and a meek personality. No, Jonathan had no delusions about himself, and knew he was not the kind of man who attracted women, beautiful or otherwise. But Brunetta had proved to be different. She told him that she loved his bigness, that it made her feel protected and dainty. And she didn’t think he was thick-headed. In her words, he was just a man who took his time processing life’s happenings.

  He smiled softly to himself. Whatever Brunetta’s reason for doing it, she’d latched onto him almost immediately after he’d arrived at the gorgeous private villa his brother Alex had brought them to six months before. Jonathan knew she was using him, and he didn’t care. The sex was incredible and plentiful, and that was enough for him. He’d never had a girlfriend before, and the only reason he’d ever had intercourse was because there were prostitutes who would take even his money. Brunetta moved to lie on his chest and he absentmindedly kissed the top of her head as he continued to think about their relationship.

  He believed her to be perfect for him, and was in the process of arranging a special night so he could propose to her. He wanted to take care of her and her fatherless twin boys who had just turned four the week before. She was a widow, and only a few years older than his own thirty-seven, but no one who looked at her would ever guess that she was past forty. A tall, athletic looking woman, her olive skin was wrinkle-free, a fact he found amazing in such a sunny clime. She had luxurious black hair and dark eyes that always seemed to be sparkling with excitement. He sighed in contentment as he thought about moving her and her family, which also included her mother and a younger sister, back to the States.

  Yes, life was good. It would be even better if Brunetta would stop suggesting that he could take over his brother’s business. She only did this in the privacy of his bedroom, of course, but it made him uncomfortable. He felt disloyal to Alex just discussing it; even though it was more him telling Brunetta to stop suggesting such a thing than it was a discussion. He didn’t want Alex’s empire, and he was happy just where he was in the hierarchy. Somehow, he knew, he had to make Brunetta understand.

  And he would; there was no way such a small misunderstanding would get in the way of his happiness. He’d finally found his woman, and he would not so easily let her go.

  “Si sono magnifici,” Brunetta purred as she moved sensually against him. “Sei proprio un amante virile! Un tale uomo virile deve prendere quello che vuole, no?”

  Jonathan flushed with pleasure even as he frowned. Calling him virile and feeding his ego about how he was strong enough to take what he wanted was usually how she began her not-so-subtle persuasion. “No, Brunie,” he said firmly. “I told you that I don’t want my brother’s empire or his money. It would be impossible for me to have either.”

  “Well, baby brother. I’m glad we agree.” The soft, menacing voice came from the direction of the room’s entryway.

  Suddenly chilled to the bone, Jonathan slowly and with dread turned his head to see his older brother standing not twenty feet from his bed. He met his brother’s eyes and flinched. Oh, shit. I never heard the door open. He stared in horror into Alex’s pale blue eyes. Dressed in a crisp, gray, tailored suit, his brother was small, pale, blond and unassuming-looking -- someone who would normally escape notice. Except he’s a spooky, little motherfucker, Jonathan thought and tried again unsuccessfully to hold Alex’s stare. As his gaze darted away, his brain tried to process what he was seeing. Alex’s normally cold eyes held a glittery anticipation. Not good, Jonathan thought, so fucking not good.

  He looked back at his brother. He’s alone, so maybe things aren’t so bad. Unless his victim was his lover, Ida, Alex let his men handle his physical dirty work. “Brunetta didn’t mean anything by what she just said, Alex,” Jonathan began desperately.

  “Of course she did, baby brother,” Alexander Brickman said in a pleasant voice that was completely at odds with his brutal expression. If it were possible, both Jonathan and Brunetta stiffened even more at the sight of his smile. “She meant the harm to come to me.”

  Jonathan resisted the urge to look down at Brunetta. She said nothing, but he felt the fine tremors in her shoulders. He sat up. “No, Alex. It’s not what you think…please…let me explain.”

  “No expl
anation necessary, Johnny-boy. And, oh yes,” he said before pausing for effect. And then the horrific smile was back. “It is exactly what I think.” He had been moving slowly towards them the entire time, and now he reached the bed. He directed his gaze and a predatory smile toward Brunetta. “I am correct, am I not my dear?”

  Jonathan looked down at Brunetta. She only had eyes for Alex, and as if mesmerized, she nodded her head as he nodded his. The appalling parody of a snake charmer mastering his snake sickened Jonathan even more and he silently began reciting the Holy Rosary, skipping over the Apostles’ Creed and the Our Father to recite five Hail Marys instead of the traditional three.

  Alex’s smile widened. “Ah, honesty at last, my dear. I applaud you.”

  Brunetta’s smile in return was edged with desperation and clearly fraudulent. If he were able to move, Jonathan would get on his knees and beg her forgiveness, for he knew she thought she had a chance of swaying Alex from whatever his plans were. What she failed to understand was that at this juncture, nothing could. Any chance for clemency was lost the minute Alex had found out about her plotting. He kissed Brunetta with quivering lips and in an apologetic voice that was shaking with regret, shame and resignation, said, “I’ll get you the best care I can af-after. I-I promi --”

  Before Jonathan could finish, Alexander had gripped Brunetta by her shoulders, urging her from the bed. And like a remorseful child trying to please, she did as he silently commanded.

  “Come, my dear,” Alex said and guided her over to the window. Frozen with horror, Jonathan watched as with a hand between her shoulder blades, Alex pushed -- just pushed her -- through the floor-to-ceiling pair of windows. Brunetta didn’t even have time to instinctively reach for safety. She was just…gone.

  Staggered, Jonathan listened to his girlfriend fall forty feet and knew instantly that he’d be hearing her scream in his nightmares for the rest of his life.

  “Jonathan.”

  Jonathan looked over at Alex and could tell from the expression on his brother’s face that he’d called his name more than once. He stared at him, knowing that he should say something, but also knowing that words weren’t adequate. He swallowed, licked his lips, wondered if he were dreaming. “You…you’ve…I thought you would only…” He trailed off and looked away in confusion. His gaze latched onto a painting on the wall. The swirling colors and illogically placed objects of the surrealist work matched his mood perfectly. Hail Mary, full of grace, the Lord is with thee; blessed--

  “Come, baby brother.”

  Jonathan looked at Alex again. His arm was held out in welcome, beckoning him over to the window.

  Jonathan flinched and looked away again. “No, thank you,” he said in a stifled tone.

  “Are you sure?” Alex asked as he looked through the shattered glass of the window. “The red of her blood looks smashing against the blue Spanish tiles below. Oh, my, an unintentional pun.” He chuckled softly as he continued to look down at his handy work. “Did you know,” he mused with a thoughtful frown as he finally turned from the window, “that that patio tile was one of the main selling points of this villa for me? And that it played a significant role in my deciding to lease the place?”

  Jonathan was looking at his brother again, but not really seeing him. Brunetta’s scream -- all it had been was one, long drawn-out horror -- was echoing over and over again in his head and intermingling with the Apostles’ Creed, which he’d finally gotten back around to. He heard nothing else. His mind was in chaos. She was dead. His brother had killed her, and he himself hadn’t saved her. How would he and his brother get on now? Who would take care of Brunetta’s boys? Who would take care of her mother? Who would run the frog hospital? He smiled and wondered how the author had come up with such a great title for a book. He hadn’t read the novel, but had always liked the title. He had several copies at home in Boston because each time he was out and saw it on a shelf he couldn’t resist purchasing it.

  Who would run the frog hospital? Hmm. I wonder how the author resolved it. I’ll have to finally read the book when I get home. That’s it. I’ll go home to Boston. Our father who art in heaven, hallowed be Thy name. Thy kingdom… He felt a hard, brief slap on his cheek. Alex was now standing over him. Jonathan met his eyes disinterestedly.

  “She lied to you, you know.”

  Jonathan tried to jerk his arm away from his brother’s sudden touch, but Alex just held on, his nails digging into the flesh. Jonathan didn’t bother to react, and focused his gaze on the wall again.

  “Look at me, Jonathan.”

  “I loved her and you killed her.”

  “Yes,” Alex said and shrugged, “but what was I supposed to do? She was a threat, and I dealt with her like I would any other threat.”

  “She never said --”

  Alex was smiling again. “Come now, baby brother. We both know that she was leading up to that very suggestion. You kill me, and take over the business.”

  “But you know I wouldn’t have --”

  “No, of course you wouldn’t have, Jonathan. I know that, but I didn’t kill her only because of her trying to come between us; I killed her for you as well. She was using you.”

  Jonathan shook his head wildly in denial, even though he’d come to that very same conclusion. Tears sprang to his eyes. “She wanted me,” he insisted and thumped his chest. “Me!”

  “She was married, Jonathan. She and her husband set you up. Most of that jewelry you bought her was pawned in Naples almost as soon as you gave it to her. They’ve been living off you for months. I’ve known about it for a little while, but I thought you’d figure it out. When you didn’t and I realized the bitch was trying to get you to stage some kind of coup, I decided to just take care of her. I took care of him, too -- hours ago. I didn’t touch their whelps, though. You know how I feel about the little ones. I’ve always had a soft spot for them.” He paused and seemed to think about something. “Well, I almost had her little sister killed because she’s sixteen and right on the cusp of adulthood, you know. I reasoned, however, that she’d be required to care for her nephews when the elderly mother dies, which I imagine she will soon do. Let’s hope she hangs on long enough for the girl to learn caretaking skills, though, because it’s the only reason I spared her. No, I couldn’t hurt the little ones. They are innocents,” he murmured contemplatively.

  Jonathan had begun to come out of his stupor and he noticed that his brother was seemingly unaware of the affect of his words. He stared up at him as he began speaking again. “Start packing up, baby brother. We’re leaving for Mexico in two days, which is another reason why I had to bring your pathetic and disappointing chapter with Mrs. Ricci to an end.”

  Still saying nothing, Jonathan watched as Alex walked to the door, opened it and stepped across the threshold. His gaze was still on the door when Alex poked his head back around the corner. Unblinkingly, he listened as Alex said, “Oh, one more thing, Jonathan. You must get rid of that woman’s things -- every little scrap she might have left behind. There can’t be any trace of her in this room. Just give everything to Craig. He’ll know how to dispose of them properly.”

  The door closed, and after staring at it for a few more minutes, Jonathan dropped his large head in his hands -- unsure if he was going to sob or scream. Hail Mary, full of grace…

  TWO hours later Alexander Brickman looked up as a large shadow fell over the dinner table. He’d decided to eat on the loggia off the dining room that evening, and his brother was currently blocking the rays of the fading sun as it set behind him, highlighting the brilliant blue of the Tyrrhenian Sea.

  He raised a brow in question when Jonathan stood staring at him without speaking. “Sit,” Alexander finally commanded when a few minutes had passed with Jonathan remaining silent.

  “No. I just came to talk.”

  Alexander paused only briefly in fastidiously buttering his bread. “Well, I’m eating, so either join me, or wait until I’ve finished.” He took a bite of the bre
ad and then went back to the report he’d been reading before he’d been interrupted. There was a bit more silence. Oh how mightily you seethe, Alexander thought with amusement. He then heard the wrought iron of the chair scrape against the ground as Jonathan yanked it away from the table.

  Alexander raised his brow again, but didn’t look up. Jonathan cleared his throat a few times in a bid, Alexander assumed, for attention, but he ignored him and continued reading. Though he didn’t show it, this new side of Jonathan did give Alexander pause. It appeared he was trying to break out of his mealy-mouthed squishy brother role and trying to grow a backbone. Alexander wasn’t sure if he approved.

  “Alex.”

  His expression bland, Alexander gave Jonathan his attention. “Yes?”

  “I want to talk to you.”

  “So you announced.” He took a sip of wine, closed his eyes, savored the rich taste on his tongue, swallowed and slowly raised his lids to look at his brother again. “Speak.”

  “You shouldn’t have done it, Alex. You shouldn’t have killed Bru -- her.”

  Alexander noticed that while Jonathan’s gaze strayed a bit from his, for the most part his brother looked him in the eye. He studied him until Jonathan was squirming in his chair. His big face turned red, but he still did his best to keep eye contact. Alexander sighed and neatly folded his napkin before placing it on the table. “You can’t even say the treacherous bitch’s name, Jonathan. She was a manipulative whore who deserved no less than death, as did her husband. Please don’t tell me you think I lied about her sins?”

  “No, of course not.”

  Alexander sat back and stared at his brother some more, knowing the effect it would have. “Excellent. Because as you well know I don’t have to lie, nor do I need to give explanations for my actions. I only did it because I knew that for some incomprehensible reason you cared for this woman.”