Page 19 of Licence To Howl
‘We shagged a few times. So what? That doesn’t mean you know me any more than I really know you.’
His smile dropped. ‘It was more than a few rolls in the hay, Scarlett,’ he growled.
‘What’s my greatest ambition? Or my deepest desire? Or my worst fear?’
Devereau gazed at her.
‘Who’s my best friend?’ Scarlett’s voice was light but there was something far darker in her eyes. ‘What’s my favourite fucking food, Devereau?’
So much for his plans for witty repartee. ‘Mine is raw steak.’
She folded her arms. ‘Great.’
‘Scarlett –’
‘Let’s stop all this nonsense and get down to business, shall we? I think I’ve already proved my point. Now, where does Solentino live?’
Devereau gritted his teeth in frustration. ‘Testaccio,’ he said, naming the neighbourhood where Christopher Solentino resided.
‘Then let’s go.’ She spun round and headed for the door.
He watched her retreating back for a moment. Scarlett thought that he didn’t know the real her. The truth was that the last minute of angry chat had told him more about her than she would have ever wanted him to know.
* * *
They tookthe small blue Fiat which Devereau had noted in the underground carpark of Scarlett’s building. It was a far more sensible mode of transport than an expensive sports car. The battered little car made as much a statement as Solentino’s bright red Ferrari had last night. It simply did so in a far less obvious manner.
‘There,’ he said, pointing ahead. ‘There’s a parking spot.’
Scarlett nodded and pulled in, nearly slotting the Fiat into the tiny space. She turned off the engine and glanced at him. They’d barely spoken five words during the entire journey. ‘Are we okay?’ she asked quietly.
‘Always,’ he told her, meaning it.
‘Good.’
Devereau scanned the street. ‘That must be Solentino’s apartment building. The blue door. See it?’
Scarlett followed his finger. ‘Gotcha.’
Unclipping his seatbelt, Devereau gave her a confident grin and reached for the matchbox. He popped it open, gazing at the ring thoughtfully. It really was a very ugly piece of jewellery.
‘I appreciate that this is your gig, Devereau,’ Scarlett said, ‘but if you walk up there with that ring in your hand, surely Solentino will just try to take it from you by force. He might be a human but there are still such things as guns. And bad luck.’
‘I make my own luck.’
Scarlett raised her eyes heavenward. ‘You’re so bloody cheesy.’
He flashed her a grin. ‘Isn’t that why you love me?’
Her expression darkened for a second.
‘Come on,’ he said, before the atmosphere between them soured again. ‘I have a plan. Bring your phone.’ Then he got out of the car and strode across the street to Solentino’s door.
Scarlett followed him, watching with some bemusement as he positioned himself in front of the door.
‘Is the building number visible?’ Devereau asked.
She tilted her head. ‘Yes.’
