Page 25 of Last Shot

‘Oh, no you don’t.’ Nella clicked her tongue, holding on to her pile of fabric.

Frankie sniffed. Grey opened his mouth to comfort her – he couldn’t have Frankie hitchhiking back to Perth before the gala, not when Giovanni had ordered her to be there – and the momentary distraction was enough for Nella to push past him and into his cottage.

Max was sitting cross-legged on the couch, eyes slanted and assessing the Barbarani sisters like a ...

Well. Like a cop.

‘Ah ha.’ Nella smirked like she’d uncovered a secret passageway by pulling out a book from his shelf. ‘A woman!’

‘I thought you were gay?’ Frankie said absentmindedly, her eyes still clouded with tears.

He ran a hand down his face, stubble he’d forgotten about fighting against his palm.

‘Hi.’ Nella outstretched a long, jewellery-laden arm to Max, who looked at it like it was a loaded gun. ‘I’m Antonella.’

Max shook her hand, then folded her arms across the shirt Grey had made a staunch vow to never look at while it was in its current form – peaking and dipping in shapes it never made against his own body.

Nella blinked, but her plum-coloured lips stretched into what onlookers might take to be a smile. Grey knew better though; it was the same expression a wolf made before it sank its teeth into a rabbit.

‘And you’re Francesca.’ Max’s eyes flickered over Frankie like a laser beam. ‘I saw you on the news. I agree with all the points you made about the logging industry.’

Nella looked a little off balance at a woman in Grey’s home warming to Frankie over her. But if Nella actually looked in the mirror once in a while, surely she’d figure out why most women hated her. Meanwhile, Frankie’s shoulders seemed to unwind at Max’s words. At least she wasn’t mentioning dead silkworms anymore.

‘This is Max,’ Grey said, his voice rough against his throat. ‘She’s part of the extra security team I hired for the gala.’

Nella whipped her head towards him. He braced for her accusation that he’d only asked Giovanni about hiring extra protection this morning. But instead came ‘Is that yourshirt, Greyson?’

Grey wondered if there was a chance Emilio Barbarani had built one of his secret passageways into the ground of this old worker’s cottage. The ability to pull a hidden lever and be swallowed by the cool stone floor had never felt more necessary. He cleared his throat. ‘There was an issue with her luggage – her old clothes were ruined.’

‘Ruined?’ Nella purred, her eyes glinting around the cottage as if hoping to spot a scattering of ripped buttons and shredded underwear.

‘Someone puked on her,’ Grey said as Max started to interject. ‘The smell was unbelievable.’

Max glared. Nella didn’t seem to notice.

‘I needed her to start straight away, before I talked to your dad this morning. You guys are the most important thing to Giovanni. He’d never cheap out on your protection.’

‘Ha!’ Frankie barked the word out with her whole body.

Grey watched Max’s eyes narrow.Shut up, Frankie.

‘If there was an attack on the winery, the first thing Dad would do is run to the cellar to save the sangue,’ Frankie said. ‘He’d use us as buffers against the walls – and then yell that we weren’t standing straight enough.’

‘Frankie!’ Nella and Grey said at the same time.

‘What? You know I’m right.’ Frankie ruffled her hair, her shirt sleeve slipping down to reveal a new upper-arm tattoo of the earth with what looked like the Excalibur sword through the centre and a silhouette attempting to pull it out. Hopefully she had a long-sleeved dress to wear to the gala or Giovanni would order Grey to cut off her arm.

‘She’s kidding,’ Nella explained to Max.

‘I was barely listening, sorry – the new bachelor’s doing his shirtless photo.’

‘Oh, I love this episode!’ Nella switched her wolf smile for a humanish one and perched herself on one of the stools she’d chosen for the cottage, her pale pink heels dangling to the floor like a child on a merry-go-round.

Don’t fall into her trap, Nella, Grey wanted to warn.She’s covered it with leaves and forest debris, but she’s gonna snap your pretty little ankles and get you to tell her everything before you know you’ve fallen down her hole.

As though she could hear him, Max turned and gave him the grin of an evil clown.

‘Did you know there’s a study that shows intelligent people love reality TV?’ Nella asked.

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