Page 73

I shake my head. He checks anyway, his hands gentle and visibly unsteady, then cuts the restraint at my wrists. The moment I'm free, I grab him around the neck.

"They're secure," Rocco calls. "Gunman's disarmed. Luca's got the other one."

"Call 911," Enzo tells him. "Tell them we have an injured kidnapping victim and three people being detained. No one leaves until the police get here."

Valentina starts shouting about lawyers and how he'll regret this. Enzo doesn't even look at her.

"Make sure she stays away from Bridget," he says, then turns back to me. "Can you stand? I'll help you."

My legs nearly fold. He catches me around the waist and helps me outside. In the cool air, I realize how close I came to dying.

Enzo pulls me against his chest. I can feel his heart pounding. Then I feel the trembling in his arms.

Lorenzo Moretti is shaking.

"I'm sorry," he whispers into my hair. "Jesus Christ, Bridget, I'm so fucking sorry."

I try to make a joke. "I think I'm done dating. My last boyfriend forgot my birthday, you turned out to be married, and now your wife kidnapped me. That's a pretty convincing argument for staying home with cats."

I start crying before I finish. Enzo holds me without telling me to calm down or pretend I'm fine.

"My cats," I whisper. "The door's broken. My phone's under the couch."

"Elise knows you're missing. Daniel called her after you didn't arrive for dinner, and she contacted Nico. Rocco's already arranged for somebody to secure your apartment and check on the cats with your neighbor. We'll make sure they're safe."

I close my eyes. At least somebody knows where I am. At least my babies aren't being abandoned while all this is happening.

"Why?" I whisper.

He looks down. "Why what, sweetheart?"

"Why would she think you'd give up all that money for me?"

His face changes. The cold, dangerous man who entered the warehouse disappears, leaving the one who sends coffee to my library, watches terrible horror movies, and remembers the names of five ridiculous cats.

He touches my uninjured cheek. "Because she knows I love you."

I've wanted those words for weeks. I love him too, but his secrets nearly got me killed. How am I supposed to trust him again?

He doesn't try to kiss me or ask for forgiveness. Somewhere behind us, Rocco is talking to an emergency dispatcher, and Enzo waits until I can look at him again.

"I have a hell of a lot to explain, Bridget."

"Yeah," I whisper. "You do."

"And this time, sweetheart, I'm going to tell you everything."

CHAPTER TWELVE

BRIDGET

I've decided there's a special place in hell for women who get kidnapped on a Friday night while wearing perfectly good date-night underwear.

Not that anybody got to appreciate mine, thank God. But after being dragged out of my apartment, tied to a chair, threatened with a gun, and rescued by the married mobster responsible for turning my life into a fucking soap opera, I'd really like to know whether the universe plans to give me a refund.

At the moment, I'd settle for a shower, a strong drink, and five cats who don't ask questions.

"Does that hurt?"