His Hidden Love

3. Chapter Three - Let’s Get Lost

3

Chapter Three - Let’s Get Lost

India’s entire body went numb. “It can’t be, Laz… How could they let him out? The evidence was overwhelming! I testified, for the love of God!” She became aware Massimo was listening, alarmed. She looked at him apologetically. He approached and put his arms around her. For a second, she resisted; she didn’t want this crap to sully their evening, and he was still technically a stranger, but…oh, the feel of his big, solid body against hers was so comforting, so safe.

“Can you get back to your apartment? I need to tell you more but not in public. I’ve also arranged protection for you. They’ll meet you there. Nevertheless, don’t go home alone. Is Massimo trustworthy?”

India smiled. “Yes,” she said, meeting Massimo’s gaze, “I would say Massimo Verdi is trustworthy.”

“Massimo Verdi? That makes me feel better.” Lazlo was relieved. Massimo smiled at her, touching her cheek. India held his hand to her face for a moment, gazing at him.

“Indy, you there? Can you get home?”

India nodded and then realized that was no good to Lazlo. “Yes, I can get home.” She looked at Massimo, who nodded as well. Even if he knew nothing of what was going on, he clearly would be happy to accompany her home. “I’ll call you when we get back to my apartment.”

She hung up. To give herself a moment, she put her phone away very slowly, taking a deep breath. She looked up to see Massimo watching her, his eyes wary.

“Are you okay, Bella?”

India drew in a long breath. “I don’t know. Something’s happened, and I…” She sighed and tried to smile. “I have to go home. My brother wants to talk to me.”

Massimo held out his hand. “I’ll walk you back. Listen, you don’t have to tell me anything, but I’m here if you need to take a dump on me.”

Despite herself, India burst out laughing. “Dude, it’s ‘dump on me’ not ‘take a dump on me’. Entirely different, very niche.”

He shrugged, grinning good-naturedly.

“My English idioms need improvement.”

India smiled at him and stroked her hand down his face. “It’s tough to dislike a guy who knows the word ‘idioms.’ You’re perfect.” He smirked, deflecting her compliment with a shrug. He’s lovely, India thought. Absolutely exquisite.

She took his hand and they walked through the quiet streets. All the s****l tension had dissipated, and India, despite the horror at Braydon Carter’s release, was disappointed. The timing sucks, that’s all, she thought. Massimo’s hand dwarfed hers, his thumb stroking the back of her hand. She moved closer, and he stopped to kiss her again, before walking on. In a few hours, they had forged a connection that wouldn’t easily be forgotten.

At her door, Massimo pressed his lips against hers. “I don’t think I should impose on you any more tonight, Bella. Just promise me, we’ll reconnect soon.”

India smiled. There was nothing she wanted more than to invite this gorgeous man into her apartment and make love to him—something that never happened to her—but she couldn’t drag him into her mess of a life. “You have my number.”

“And you have mine. I’ll be disappointed if someone else plays your love interest in your music video.”

She laughed. “That won’t happen. I’ll call you.” She hoped beyond hope he didn’t realize she was lying.

After he was gone, and she dead bolted her door and checked that her windows were locked, India curled up on the couch and called Lazlo back.

“You okay, bub?” he said.

“Not really. I can’t believe they let Carter out, Laz. After everything… everything.” Her voice broke but she was determined not to cry.

“He won’t get near you, Indy, I promise.” Lazlo sighed. “The one good thing is that the tour is over, and you can go anywhere. He won’t be able to find you.”

“Exiled again.” India closed her eyes. She knew this all too well: a life of disguise and solitude forced upon her by a man obsessed with her. She had other stalkers—it was an occupational hazard for people in the entertainment business—but no one as relentless, as destructive as Braydon Carter.

No one as terrifying.

“How was Massimo Verdi?”

India’s heart thumped sadly. “A sweetheart. Surprisingly, a real sweetheart. Damn it.”

“I’m sorry, Indy. I wish you would find someone who…well, you know.”

India chuckled softly. “I don’t need a white knight, Laz. I have you.” She sighed. “So, what do you suggest?”

“Leave Venice, obviously. Pick a country and get on a plane. When you’re there, call me, and we’ll step up security and find you a place to live. You have your credit cards?”

“Yes.”

“Good. Listen, Jess knows about this, too, and she’s going to challenge the release.”

Jess Olden was India’s best friend and her lawyer, a stunningly beautiful woman who was a pit bull in the courtroom. India smiled fondly. “I bet she is. Tell her I love her and thank you.”

“I will. Jesus, Indy, I’m so sorry about this. I thought we had finally gotten past this cloak and dagger stuff.”

India stared out of the window at the Venetian night and tried not to cry. “Me, too, Laz. Me, too.”

Massimo Verdi spent the next few days on a press junket for his new movie but every moment he thought about India Blue: her soft, dark hair that fell below her shoulders, those large brown eyes, and perfect rose lips. He could still smell her delicate scent and his body felt charged and on edge. He needed to see her again; that was now an imperative.

After his last interview, he fended off the meeting requests from his agent and his publicist and retreated to his hotel room, decompressing from talking all day. Massimo enjoyed the junkets to a certain extent, but he also valued his privacy. He changed out of the Saville Row suit he wore and got into a sweater and jeans, flicking on the TV and ordering room service. Before the food arrived, he called Diana, and she grilled him about what happened. “Your note was the opposite of subtle, Diana.”

Diana was unrepentant. “So? Did you f**k each other silly?”

Massimo laughed. “No, we didn’t. We were interrupted and India had something else to deal with.”

“Well, don’t let her run away from you, Mass. She has a habit of pulling away even when everyone else can see what she wants. And she wants you, believe me. I have never seen her so…befuddled.”

“Befuddled?” Massimo was curious.

“Okay then, aroused. She was horny for you. Can I make it any clearer?” Massimo heard Grey muttering in the background, and Diana clicked her tongue at him. “I’m not interfering.”

“Do you think it would be inappropriate for me to show up at her door?”

“Go for it. She’ll get scared and try to push you away. Don’t let her get away, Massi.”

After the call, he slowly ate his steak and salad, processing what Diana said. He sensed India might be a flight risk. There was something so vulnerable about her. Why did she look so devastated when her brother called? He grabbed his laptop and did a search on her. Strange. For someone so high profile, there was very little information about her on the internet—plenty of gossip and speculation, but actual facts…

Weird.

Massimo closed the laptop and sat back. No, he wouldn’t learn a thing from the web about this woman. To get to know her means being with her. He got up and grabbed his coat, stepping out into the cool Venice night. After all, he knew where she lived. He strode through the streets, ignoring the people who stared at him, recognizing their number one movie star.

The doorman at India’s apartment building recognized him and let him in with a smile. “How can I help you tonight, Mr. Verdi? Always a pleasure to see you.”

Massimo smiled back. “I’m here to see Signora Blue, thank you.”

“Oh.”

Massimo stopped. The doorman looked uncomfortable. “What is it?”

“I’m afraid Signora Blue has left, Mr. Verdi.”

“Left? You mean she’s out for the evening?” Even as he said the words, he knew what the man meant. India had left the building, the apartment, the city.

She was gone.