Chapter 11

CHAPTER

ELEVEN

CAL

The hot water stung the open cuts and scrapes along my body, and even though I knew they’d be mostly gone by tomorrow, it still sucked.

What sucked worse was having to admit Jack was right.

I’d jumped in, literally, without thinking, and now my body—and my pride—were bearing the consequences. At least the asshole hadn’t said I told you so, but the sentiment was there in the way he’d laughed as I’d climbed onto the boat. Before he realized I was hurt.

Then he’d been kind, finding me a towel and getting us back to the hotel fast, then asking Carlo for the first aid kit. It was almost like he cared.

Drying off carefully, I returned to the bedroom, a towel wrapped around my waist, and when Jack looked up and saw me, then swallowed, I gloated internally. It was nice to know we were both feeling the same things. I also liked knowing I had the power to unsettle Jack, to rattle his control just a little.

“Did you find anything?” I nodded at his computer.

He nodded. “Yep. Amarena Martora is Azzura Scivolo’s granddaughter. I was only able to confirm it by hacking the hospital’s cameras. She walked into the building not long after you took off into the harbor, and another camera shows her in the maternity ward. She is registered as a guest under a fake name, but it’s definitely Azzura.”

“So what do we do now?”

Jack put a hand to his heart and let his mouth drop open dramatically. “I’m sorry. Can you repeat the question? Because it sounded an awful lot like you were deferring to me to make a decision regarding our next steps. Did you hit your head when you got stuck in that canal?”

Any previous thought I’d had about how kind Jack had been in the canal faded away. “Fuck you, Jack.”

A wry smirk tipped his lips, but he didn’t grab at the low-hanging fruit or offer any innuendo. The tension between us, especially while sharing a bed, was already thick enough to almost be tangible.

He cleared his throat and shut his laptop. “To answer your question, we’re going to pay Azzura a visit at the hospital.”

“Why? She was clearly here for her granddaughter. You said yourself that you didn’t get the vibe that she had the painting.”

“Doesn’t mean she doesn’t know something about it.”

“Fine.” While we’d been talking, I’d slipped into a pair of boxers. “Where did you put the first aid kit?”

Jack reached over to the nightstand on his side of the bed and picked up the small metal case. He held it out to me, but when I went to take it from him, he pulled it back. He kept his gaze locked on the box. “Can I help you? You won’t be able to reach the worst of the cuts.”

“Uh, sure.”

“Lie down.”

For the first time since the night I’d met Jack—back when I thought he was just some hot guy I’d met in a Colombian bar—I obeyed without hesitation. Instead of resting my head on the pillow, I flipped so my head was near the foot of the bed.

“Shit, Cal. Some of these scrapes are deep.” His fingers gently probed the edges of some of the injuries, his touch light. “The superficial ones are already healing.”

I grunted in response.

He’d set the kit on the nightstand on my side of the bed, and I heard the metal clasps open and clang against the case, followed by a faint tearing sound.

“This is probably going to hurt.”

“Just do it.” The first touch of the antiseptic pad against my shredded flesh felt like a million tiny knives, and I gritted my teeth against the intense sting.

“I’m sorry.” He whispered the words before I felt his breath against my skin as he gently blew across the scrape, easing the sting.

My cock twitched, and I was grateful I was lying down on my stomach, my dick trapped between my body and the mattress.

Jack finished cleaning the cuts, then started applying antibiotic cream. Having his hands on me was the worst kind of torture, and it took everything in me not to work my hips against the mattress as his fingers skimmed over my skin. There was nothing inherently erotic about his touch, but I’d always liked a little pain with my pleasure, and having my fated mate’s cypress, salt, and warm honey scent in my nose and his hands on my body had my libido in overdrive.

“Can you turn on the television or something?” My voice came out rough with arousal, and I needed some sort of distraction.

“Uh, sure.” Jack looked around the room, found the remote, and punched the button to turn the TV on. I didn’t need to speak Italian to get the gist of what the news anchor was saying. Someone had taken video of an orca swimming through the Venetian canals, and everyone was wondering where it had come from and if it was still in the city. Luckily, the footage was from before I’d gotten myself stuck, but seeing it made me realize how stupid the move had been.

“Never mind. Turn it off.”

I expected some sort of snarky response, but Jack just turned the TV off again.

“I know it was stupid.”

“Can you turn and face the other way? I can’t reach your other side from this angle without hitting the areas I’ve already treated.”

I was still half-hard, but seeing the news broadcast had deflated my erection a little… and my ego.

“Okay.”

Jack stood back from the bed, the small tube of antibiotic ointment still in his hand as I switched positions.

A low growl rumbled in his chest. “I think this side is worse.” He took his time cleaning the scrapes and applying the ointment, and I closed my eyes, letting his touch soothe and heal in more ways than one.

Jack held my hands against the headboard over my head, and my ass was full as he pounded into me. His breath was hot in my ear as he whispered filthy things.

“You’re so fucking tight. So hot around my dick.”

Jack’s cock was a thing of beauty, thick and long, with a ridge down the center that felt so damn good inside me. He pressed into me deep, tipped his hips as he pulled out so I felt every single inch, then slammed back into me hard, shoving me farther up the bed. My cock bounced between us, and I craved friction.

“Please, Jack. Stroke my cock. I need it. Please.”

“Not. Yet.” He punctuated his words with harsh thrusts of his hips.

“Please.”

Every time I begged, Jack drove into me harder, and precum spilled from my slit, pooling in the ridges of my abs and smearing over Jack’s chest when he leaned close to bite at my neck or whisper filthy things about how hot I was or how my ass squeezed around his dick in my ear.

His teeth grazed over my saddle patch, and my hips arched off the bed, looking for more even as he drove into me so hard it felt like I might split in two. Jack noticed my reaction and scraped his teeth along the darker skin on my neck again. It was on the tip of my tongue to plead with him to bite me, but I held the words back.

Jack’s thrusts had slowed while he explored the sensitive skin of my saddle patch, but I needed him to move again, to distract me with his cock before I asked for something I had no business asking for from a guy I’d just met in the hotel bar.

“Fuck me, Jack. Fuck me, please.”

With one last sharp graze of his teeth over the skin of my neck, he drove back into me deep and hard, and this time, one of his callused, rough hands wrapped around my cock while the other kept my wrists pinned. My eyes rolled back in my head, and I moved my hips, unsure if I was trying to impale myself on his dick or find more friction on my cock. My orgasm built, and I was so close to the edge. So freaking close.

“Mine.”

The single word pulled me out of the dream—the memory of the night I’d met Jack—just as I tipped over the edge, cum shooting from my dick. I was humping the mattress, my boxers now soaked with my release.

My face in the pillow, I reached out and felt only cool sheets. Thank fuck. I had no idea where Jack was, but he wasn’t in bed with me, and if the temperature of the sheets on his side was any indication, he hadn’t been there for a while.

And for the first time since we’d met, I was grateful to wake up without him.

Now that I wasn’t panicking that Jack had been there to witness my humiliation, the last frame of my dream played on repeat in my head—Jack driving into me hard while whispering, “Mine,” in my ear and scraping his teeth over my saddle patch. It was reality and fantasy all rolled up into one, and I wasn’t sure how much longer I was going to be able to keep myself from begging Jack to fuck me again. My body wanted it, even though my heart knew it was going to mean more to me than to him. I looked at the gold ring I’d slid back on after my shift yesterday. I liked seeing it on my finger, even if it was just pretend, part of a fantasy I wanted to see played out with Jack’s bite on my skin and his ring on my finger. For now, maybe it would be enough to fool around with him again. It would be better than nothing, and if my heart cracked a little when he left, I could piece it back together.

“Gah.” The frustrated sound echoed in the empty hotel room, and I ran a hand over my face, rubbing the sleep away and trying to get my brain back online. Pining over someone wasn’t a comfortable sensation for me. I’d never done it before I’d met Jack, and I wished there was a way I could stop doing it now, but every second I spent with him made me want him more when he wasn’t there. Fate had fucked around, and now I was finding out how miserable it was to want someone I couldn’t have.

Unless I was wrong. Jack wanted me. I knew he did, but was it only for sex, or was there more there? Relationships had been built on less, right? We were beyond compatible between the sheets, so maybe that could bleed into other areas of our relationship. Maybe if I told Jack he was my fated mate he would feel the connection and want me the same way I wanted him.

Forever.

But I’d never been good at mature adult conversations—just ask my brothers; they’ll tell you maturity is not one of my better attributes—and I wasn’t sure I could handle it if Jack rejected me. Because even bad-ass former Navy SEALs could be squishy emotional marshmallows on the inside.

Scenarios for how I could bring up the fact that we were fated mates and all the ways Jack could rebuff my claim on him played through my head as I grabbed a quick shower, the skin of the freshly healed abrasions pulling a little as I washed up. I was feeling a little surly and just tugging a clean T-shirt over my head when the electronic lock on the door beeped and Jack walked in.

He was carrying a white pastry box and a paper bag in one hand and a carrier with two cups of coffee in the other. Several bags bearing designer brand names swung from his arm.

“Morning. Glad you’re up.” He set the pastry box and coffee down on the long dresser against the wall.

“You could have woken me before you went out.” My tone was a little snappier than I’d intended, but my vulnerability was right at the surface, so I really couldn’t be blamed.

Jack snorted. “I tried. Just like I tried last night. You slept through dinner.”

The second he mentioned food, my stomach rumbled. Oh, I wasn’t sad. I just needed to eat.

He thrust the bag out, and I took it. Inside were two foil-wrapped items. I grabbed one and opened it, sighing with joy when I saw a panini filled with prosciutto, mozzarella, a fried egg, and tomato. My mouth watered, and I took a huge bite. Jack sat on the edge of the bed next to me and pulled the other sandwich out of the bag. We ate in silence, and when we’d both finished half of our sandwiches, Jack stood and grabbed the coffee cups, passing one to me.

“What are all those bags?”

Jack looked at where he’d dropped the small pile. “Clothes Reuben ordered. They were waiting downstairs. I told Carlo I’d spare him the hassle of bringing them up. There are some new dress shirts and lightweight sweaters for both of us and a couple pairs of jeans.”

“Nice.” My gaze flicked to my duffel, where I’d hidden Jack’s ruined shirt. I probably should have gotten rid of it, but I liked having something of his, so I’d shoved it into the bottom of my bag. “What’s in the box?”

Jack finished chewing the bite he’d just taken before he replied. “Pistachio cornetti.”

“Oh, yum. Yes, please.” I stood, but he grabbed my wrist and pulled me back to the bed.

“Not for you.”

“But why?”

“We’re taking them to the hospital. For Azzura.”

I raised an eyebrow. “Bribery?”

“Goodwill.”

“Fine.”

Jack nodded at where I’d crumpled up the wrapping from my sandwich and tossed it on the bed. “Are you ready to head out?”

“Do I have a choice?”

“Nope.”

Ten minutes later, we were back in the borrowed boat, motoring down the canal toward the hospital. We took a different route than we had from Piazza San Marco the day before, and I was grateful I didn’t have to return to the scene of the crime.

Didn’t stop Jack from being an ass as we went through a series of smaller, narrow channels.

“Hey, remember that time you shifted and chased a boat through the Venice canals and got yourself stuck?”

“I fucking hate you.”

A shit-eating grin spread across his face, and I hated that I loved seeing him smile, even if it was because he was making fun of me. “You have to admit it’s pretty funny when you think about it.”

“Whatever.”

Jack’s expression dropped into something a little more serious. “I’m glad you didn’t get hurt. Or rather, really hurt. With all the boat traffic, it could have been bad.”

“Uh-huh. I’m sure.”

He took one hand off the boat’s wheel and grabbed my wrist. “I am glad you’re good.”

The heat from his touch blazed through my body, and I looked down at where he held me just to make sure there weren’t flames.

Jack let his touch linger until he had to pull us into the dock behind the hospital. I missed the moment of warmth the second it was gone, but it did make me wonder if Jack felt more than sexual attraction between us too. But the moment or whatever it had been was over, and Jack’s all-business mask slipped into place.

It was easy enough to find the maternity ward, and Jack gave Amarena’s name at the small reception desk. We were shown to a small waiting area near the nursery, and five minutes later, Azzura Scivolo walked into the room.

The mink shifter looked like she had every day since we’d started following her—she wore a tight-fitting sweater and slim black pants. Her hair was twisted up in an elegant chignon, her oversized sunglasses perched on her head, and her scarf draped lazily around her shoulders. She prowled toward us with predatory grace and perched on the edge of a low chair.

Jack opened his mouth to say something, but she held up a hand and closed her eyes for a moment before turning her attention to me.

“Is Juno well?” Her voice was smooth and subtly accented.

“You know who I am?”

She smiled, but the expression didn’t reach her eyes. “I return to Venice, and an orca turns up in the canals? If you were not her relative, I would be surprised.”

I nodded. “I haven’t talked to her in a while, but from what I hear, she’s well.”

Azzura’s eyes narrowed. “Call her. Family is important.”

Another nod, and then Jack spoke. “We are here ab?—”

Her attention swung to Jack. “I know who you are too, and I know exactly why you are here. I saw you the day you followed me to confession at the basilica and every day you watched me at the cafe. At first, I thought you were members of Carabinieri Art Squad sent to find out why I had returned to Venice, but you do not speak Italian well.” Jack’s jaw tensed. “No, you are not as clever as you think you are, and you are still here only because I am allowing it. They tried to ban me from the city, but I have more friends here than enemies. You should remember that.” She stared at us both, looking for something, and when she found—or didn’t find—whatever it was she was looking for, she stood. Again, I marveled at the way she moved. “Come with me.”

My heart stuttered in my chest. Was she about to lead us to the painting? What the hell was happening right now, and why was Jack letting us blindly follow her? Where were her bodyguards? This felt like a trap.

“Relax.” Jack’s mouth barely moved.

Azzura turned the corner and stopped in front of the nursery. There were several babies on the other side of the glass, but only one was wrapped in a pink blanket.

“I do not know where the painting is. I knew once, but by the time I tried to steal it, someone else already had. After I was told I could not return to Venice, my home, I gave up the excitement of that life. It was not worth the time I missed watching my daughter grow up.” Azzura pointed to the tiny baby in the little pink hat with a bow on it. “This is my life now. It is the only thing that matters to me.”

“Have you heard anything about anyone trying to move it or anyone looking for it?” Azzura was shaking her head before Jack even finished asking the question.

“Someone is always looking for it. There are always whispers, rumors. It is too much, and it is never anything. You would be wise to stop looking for it.”

“We can’t do that.”

She turned her assessing gaze on me. “Why not? Surely you watched Juno hunt for the painting for years with no luck.”

“There is more to whatever is going on here than just the painting. My brother’s mate was targeted and kidnapped, almost killed, and others have gone missing or been targeted too. Someone either has the piece or is eliminating players they think might have it one by one.”

“And you led them to my door?”

Jack jumped in. “No. We are here because you were on Reuben Machas’s short list of people who could have the painting. If you’re on his list, you are on others’.”

Azzura stared me down. “If you are here, are you sure your grandmother is safe? If I am a target, so too must she be.”

“She is safe.”

Azzura nodded, but her face was stony and impassive.

“For your safety, Reuben has issued an invitation for you and anyone you’d like to bring with you to join him at his compound in Australia.” I stared at Jack. I had no idea that was part of what we’d been sent to do. It was just another indication that he was keeping things, important things, from me.

Azzura laughed bitterly. “I will not leave my family again, and if anyone else comes to me, I will tell them what I have told you.”

Jack nodded but pulled a sheaf of folded papers from the inside pocket of the light jacket he wore and placed them on the top of the pastry box, holding it out to Azzura. “The offer stands. Reuben is convinced these latest whispers are more than that. Be safe.”

She took the box. “Please give Reuben my regards. I appreciate the warning and his offer. I will be in touch if I need to be.” Azzura turned back to the window to stare at her great-granddaughter, and it couldn’t have been clearer that we’d been dismissed.

Once we were back in the hallway, I turned on Jack.

“Reuben told you to invite her to stay with him?”

“Yes, it’s part of this mission.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

Jack lifted a shoulder. “You didn’t need to know.”

“Like hell I didn’t.” I blew out a breath. “We’re supposed to be in this together.”

Jack went quiet for a long time, and we were pushing through the hospital’s exit doors before he spoke again. “We should pack when we get back to the hotel. I’ll text the pilot to let her know we’ll be ready to leave in a couple hours.”

I tried not to take it personally that he was keeping things from me—I’d already known he was—but it still felt like a stab to the heart. Instead of telling him that it was important to me that he trusted me, I just nodded. In Jack’s defense, there had been very few, if any, times since I’d known him that I’d proven he could trust me.

That needed to change.

Starting now.