Page 15 of Disarming Caine

“He danced around the painting from the auction.” Her discovery of a stolen painting among the art up for auction at the hospital gala we attended in August had brought Skinner back into her life. “The last concrete lead he told me about was eight weeks ago, so either they’ve hit a brick wall or they’ve had a breakthrough he won’t tell me about.”

“Do you think he’d give you the details?”

“Not sure, to be honest. Sometimes he shares a lot more than he should, other times he’s tight-lipped.” She let out a long yawn. “If they found out who stole it originally, he’d at least tell me that they had. He also mentioned the Carabinieri haven’t had any additional leads on the flower fresco or the pigment pots.”

She paused, giving me an opportunity to tell her what I knew about the thefts which we investigated together in September. Samantha suspected I’d learned more than I told her, but didn’t pressure me on it. Just continued on as though she trusted me completely, which was no doubt difficult for a woman as suspicious as she was.

When I did nothing but nod, she continued. “He also suggested submitting a paper on the Scott case to an art crimes symposium in California this summer. I may attend but presenting seems like a bit much.”

“Any word on David and Olivia Scott?”

She turned from the camera, eyes scanning something beside her, likely her second monitor. “Let’s see… last week’s sightings include LA, Montreal, Boston, London, and—” She looked at me with an exaggerated frown. “—Bangladesh. So basically, the two of them got away with Bobby’s murder plus a million dollars in fraudulent insurance settlements and the FBI is no further ahead in tracking them down than they were in August.”

“And how was last night?” I walked through the garden and the remains of the storage room where the Casa met with Via di Nola. Each room was little more than crumbled walls and newly excavated dirt—all the contents removed for cataloguing and research—but we referred to each based on their original purpose.

She picked up her laptop and walked to the bedroom, placing it on the pillow next to her. Lying down, she propped her head on an elbow. “What do you think? Shitty.”

Exiting to the roadway through a break in the storage room’s wall, I sat on the dusty sidewalk. I leaned back against the gray lava stone walls of the Casa, finding what little shade I could. December was cool enough that the crowds were thinner than the warmer seasons, so there was plenty of privacy. “From my news or my outburst?”

“Both.” She rolled onto her back with a frown, looking at the ceiling. “We’ve already done three months. I know we can do four more, but only if we both want to. Otherwise, we’re just wasting each other’s time.”

Heartfelt words were never her strong suit. She must have thought about this a great deal if she was talking instead of simply staring at me.

“This is not the first in a string of laters, bella. I still want this.”

“So do I.” Her jaw flexed and released, then she inhaled as though to speak but said nothing.

“Antonio!” came Mario’s voice. We were running out of time, but I couldn’t rush her. I stood, extending on my tiptoes to wave to him over the wall. I held up five fingers once I had his attention.

When she began speaking, her voice was unsteady. “Nathan’s part of my package deal, just like Cass, Kevin, and their kids. It’s a small package, but they’re my family. He’s been with me through a lot of highs and lows, and I’ve counted on him more than once.”

Samantha Caine expressed herself through action, not through words. My plan had been to surprise her when I arrived home on Tuesday. Would she be happy to see me, or would there be a hint of panic in her reaction? That would tell me whether I could trust her fully.

But today, with her talking to me about this, I had no question she was still mine.

“Bella—”

“No, let me finish.” She rolled to face me, determination etched on her lovely face. “You sure you want to wait another four months? There isn’t someone else there who might be a better choice for you? Mario knows lots of beautiful women, or maybe someone you work with?”

Her husband had left her for someone else, someone he was better suited to be with. This was part of what held her back from me—a fear that she was not enough. As though I would someday make a similar choice.

Her face was rehearsed neutrality, holding the door wide open to let me walk away if I wanted to. She still didn’t believe she’d been my North Star for longer than we’d known each other.

“There is no doubt in my mind, Samantha. You are theonlyone for me.”

She nodded, eyes darting to me and away and back again, letting the door close and the emotion peek through. “I feel something for you that’s completely different from what I feel for Nathan. I’ve known him for eighteen years, and I would trust him with my life. But I’ve never—never—thought about him first when I woke up or last when I went to sleep. My heart’s never skipped a beat when I heard his voice. And I’ve never clutched a pillow at night, wishing it was him.”

Tears glistened in her eyes, and I clenched my jaw to stave off my own. I needed to hold her, feel her warm skin against mine, and show her everything was alright. I should tell her I was coming home. “Bella, I—”

Mario appeared on the sidewalk next to me, and I cut short, waving him away.

She ran a knuckle across her eyes. “I was perfectly happy with my solitary, nomadic life the last six years. I didn’t want to set down roots again. Until I met you. Nathan wasn’t what changed my mind. You were. And you still are. But you need to trust me.” She dropped her voice to a whisper. “I’m not Faith. Stop painting me with her brush.”

My shoulders sagged. How could I have doubted her? “I know.”

“You keep saying you trust me, but last night was proof you don’t.” Her eyes finally locked on me. “There’s still something inside you that thinks I’m going to cheat on you. The logical side of my brain understands that, but it breaks my heart every time I see it.”

She lifted her left hand to the camera, showing the ring I’d given her the day she left Napoli. “I’m still wearing this promise ring, and I’m still waiting. And I’ll continue waiting if it’s what you truly want.”

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