Page 46 of Caught in the Middle

Chapter Fifteen

'Welcome to my home, Lucy. Please, take a seat.'

She went to pull out the plush chair at the opposite end of the table, but was met with a throaty laugh.

'Why so far away? Come a little closer.'

Lucy's heart began to sink as she made her way towards the shadowy figure, and pulled out the chair to the right of him.

Looking up, she caught sight of Joey Leonardo for the first time.

And he was Godly.

The candlelight most certainly accentuated his beauty, but she could only imagine he'd be just a striking in daylight. His long, wavy hair sat just above his wide, stubbly jawline. She was mesmerised by his deep, hazel eyes, staring at her with... an expression Lucy couldn't quite put her finger on.

He wore a tuxedo with such ease, that she couldn't imagine him wearing anything else. When he extended his tanned hand to take hers and bring it up to his lips, she noticed a mass of tattoos, which disappeared up his sleeve. She couldn't help but wonder where they ended.

'It's a pleasure to finally meet you.' He said softly.

Lucy could feel a sense of power around him. There was no doubt that even if she had no idea who he was, that she wouldn't feel...almost humbled to be in his presence. Although his Rolex, gold chain and imposing ruby ring proudly sitting on his little finger oozed wealth, she felt like even without all of that, just his poise alone would let everyone know exactly who he was.

Lucy sat there in shock. Her arms felt stiff as he gently brushed a cold lip against the back on her hand. She was pretty sure she was going to be sick at any moment.

A small, knowing small tugged at his broad lips.

'You're quieter than I thought you would be. Perhaps you need a drink?'

He picked up a small, silver bell from the table, and rang it, faintly.

A door she had not noticed behind her clicked open, and a man in a waiter’s uniform appeared with a tray of wine bottles.

'Red or White, Madam?' he said, bowing to her in the similar way that the butler had outside the door.

''Or, of course, anything else you want to drink. We have everything.' Joey interjected, and Lucy didn't doubt it.

'Red is fine, thank you,' she managed to croak.

Joey watched her carefully as the waiter poured the wine into a large glass on the table in front of her.

'You know, your demeanour concerns me,' he said, a frown forming on his beautiful face. His voice was soothing, with the undertones of an Italian accent that hinted to his upbringing.

'Why?' Lucy replied, trying to stop her teeth from chattering.

'You're... afraid.' he reached over and placed his forefinger and thumb under her chin, forcing her to look into his concerned eyes.

'Well,' she muttered, 'you're going to kill me.'

Her bravery came out of nowhere, but she didn't regret it when those words slipped out of her mouth. If he was going to shoot her or whatever, she would rather not dance around the issue, and let him get down to it. What was the point of him making her drink wine, eat dinner and have a general chit chat? If this was death row, she wouldn't want her last meal to be with the executioner.

His hand slipped away from her chin, and she lowered her eyes.

Joey leaned back in his chair, took a sip of wine and sighed.

'Oliver O'Brien.' he said, simply.

The sound of his name sent a shiver down Lucy's spine. In all the mayhem, she hadn't thought of him since she left the airport, when she was hoping that he would come and find her.

Her mind fleetingly wondered what he was doing. Whether he drove out of that forest, and went to save another girl, or whether he just went back to London, and pretended that Lucy had never existed. She wondered if he was carrying on about his daily business like usual, and if he had even thought about her since.

---