By Fate I Conquer (Sins of the Fathers #4)(16)

“I hear worse on a daily basis,” she said, her body relaxing ever so slightly.

“I bet.”

She pointed at my lips as she pushed to her feet. “Was that Nevio?”

“No.” I wasn’t sure why I said it but for some reason I didn’t want her to know how much he and I hated each other. Once she saw us together there would be no hiding it, not to mention that I didn’t know why I’d bother anyway.

The silk ribbon of one of her ballet shoes had come undone and wrapped around her other leg, causing her to lose her balance. I reached out to steady Greta who stumbled forward. Her eyes widened, looking at my fingers on her arm as if they might strangle her. I released her the moment she was steady. Dad would be pissed if I caused a war with the Camorra with a misunderstanding. I bet Remo and Nevio would love to misunderstand me touching Greta’s arm.

“I meant it, you don’t have to be scared.”

She smiled in embarrassment. “And I told you, I’m not scared of you. I’m nervous around people I don’t know well, especially in surroundings that give me anxiety in the first place.”

I remembered the rumors about her social phobia. I’d never given it much thought. I’d never given Greta Falcone much thought. I nodded. “There’s only one solution to our problem, you have to enter the code that keeps us locked in.”

She shook her head then bent forward to wrap the ribbon around her slender ankle and calf once more, completely throwing me off with the movement and the way her ass propped up in the air. “I can’t. Someone set off the alarm by entering a wrong code somewhere in the house and by doing so locked all the electronic doors in the house.” She seemed completely oblivious of the view she was giving me. I swallowed thickly and dragged my eyes back to the keypad and busied myself hitting the buttons of it but the keys remained dark.

“How long will we be trapped down here?”

She appeared in my peripheral vision but more than an an arm’s length away from me. “My family will check every locked room in the mansions and basements systematically.” She fell silent, gnawing on her lower lip. “I can’t tell you more.”

I could make you. This was important safety information. I just nodded.

My eyes traveled the length of her once more, unable to stop. She barely reached my chest and the cold down here in the basement had a very obvious effect on her body, the least of all were the goosebumps on her skin. Her nipples had hardened to firm pebbles under her leotard.

Tearing my gaze away, I cleared my throat, which felt dry and rough. “Will you be okay in this enclosed space until someone gets us out?”

She gave me a grateful smile. “I doubt I have a choice, so yes, I’ll be okay.”

For some reason, my lips pulled into a smile in return which I cut off quickly. What the hell was wrong with me?

“I’m sure we’ll be out in no time.”

Greta eyed me with curiosity. I met her gaze and she didn’t look away. She scanned me from head to toe. If it was any other girl, I’d say she was checking me out, but with her I honestly wasn’t sure.

“You’re very tall and muscled, unusually so.”

My eyebrows shot up, and I almost laughed. I didn’t laugh in public, definitely not around people who could become the enemy any day. “Thanks?” I said then narrowed my eyes. “Or did you insult me? I’m really not sure.”

Greta tilted her head with a small, secretive smile. “It wasn’t an insult.”

“A compliment?”

“A fact.”

“A fact,” I echoed, and shook my head with a chuckle.

She nodded and moved toward a corner. “Maybe we should get comfortable. I have a feeling this will take a bit.”

Greta sank down to the floor in a cross-legged seat, arranging her tutu carefully over her upper thighs, and gave me an expectant look. I motioned at the padded stretcher in the center, that looked far more comfortable than the cold stone floor but a haunted expression slithered across Greta’s face and so I went over to her. I sank to the ground as well and stretched out my legs but made sure not to touch Greta.

“You know what this place is for, that’s why you don’t want to sit on the stretcher.” Even if I hadn’t been in similar rooms back in New York, I would have recognized a place for torture by the bloody straps on the stretcher and the array of pliers, needles and knives on the small metal table at the other end of the room.

“Yes. I know what it is and what they are.”

A hint of protectiveness rang in her voice. I didn’t comment. My feelings for the majority of her family weren’t fit for her ears.

“Do you consider yourself so different from them?”

In some ways, yes, but in many others not at all. Greta meant the latter. “No, which is why I wonder why you aren’t scared of me, especially when you have trouble with people in general.”

“I’m not scared of people, they only make me anxious. And I’m not scared of you because…” She searched my face for longer than was appropriate but I didn’t mind her curiosity. “…because I just know deep down that I don’t have to fear you.”

I’d expected her to say because of her father. After all, he’d invited us here and this was his territory, and while this was probably part of the truth as well, her answer pleased me much more. She smiled again. She wrapped her arms around herself and rubbed her upper arms with her hands. I didn’t see anything I could have used to warm her, except for my body heat and that was out of the question for various reasons.