Another reminder that he needed backup, and soon.
“I won’t be back to Scotland as soon as I thought,” he went on.
Lachlan laughed. “Is it the weather or Duncan’s bagpipes that’s keeping you away?”
“Maybe I’m tired of taking orders from a bunch of dragons and poetry-spouting unicorns.” Tony chuckled, then turned serious. “I mean it, though. I’ll be staying in Venice for a while.”
The line went silent as Lachlan digested the news. He didn’t know all the details, but he knew Tony had taken a big risk in returning to Venice.
“Is that a good or a bad thing?” the Scotsman finally asked.
Bad, Tony thought, knowing how much he was up against.
Good, his lion contradicted, picturing Cara.
“I’m not sure. But I’m not in jail…yet.”
“Yet,” Lachlan echoed, not too helpfully.
“I’ve taken a bodyguard job, but I need help. A neutral party. Someone I can trust.” He forced a little chuckle. “You and your lovely mate don’t feel like a second honeymoon in Venice, do you?”
“That bad, eh?” Lachlan murmured, growing serious.
Tony deliberated between yes and no. He didn’t want to pressure his friend, but he really could use help.
“I’m probably being overcautious. And I understand if you can’t come. But can you think of anyone else who might be available?”
“There’s Heath…” Lachlan started.
Tony perked up. Heath would be perfect — a bear shifter and the sole Canadian in their Foreign Legion company. Like Tony, Heath had done his ten years. Unlike Tony, Heath had embraced his new identity.
“Wait. Heath just took a job in Alaska.” Lachlan thought a moment, then came up with another name. “How about Theo?”
Tony snorted. “Didn’t he go home to finally collect his inheritance?”
That was the main reason Theo had joined the military in the first place — to satisfy the last clause keeping him from inheriting a vast fortune. Over the past years, the millionaire playboy had transformed into a humble legionnaire, but what was to keep Theo from slipping back into his old ways?
Lachlan laughed. “He did make us promise to keep him honest. Let me give him a call.”
Tony’s hopes rose. Like Lachlan, Heath, and several others, Theo was a brother-in-arms Tony could trust with his life.
“Is he back at home in Greece?” Tony asked.
“In Greece, yes. The question is, which home? The penthouse in Athens? The villa on Corfu? Or maybe he’s lounging on a luxury motor yacht in the Cyclades. But don’t worry — I’ll track him down.”
“You think he’ll come?”
Lachlan chuckled. “Believe me, this is exactly what Theo needs. I’ll be in touch.”
With that, the line clicked off, leaving Tony wondering what the future would bring — an unfamiliar feeling. Throughout his ten years in the Foreign Legion, he’d just soldiered along, moving from assignment to assignment. But this was different. More personal, more immediate. A young girl’s life was on the line…and frankly, so was his heart.
He took a deep breath and headed for the stairs. It was time to begin another hardworking day.
Chapter Ten
Cara twisted the oar in her hand and looked back at the Guardians’ palace. “You think Fiorina will be all right?”
Three days had passed — the most tedious of Cara’s life. Lots of meetings, lots of time with Fiorina. In fact, she never left the girl’s side. Cara loved Fiorina like a sister, but she pined to get back to work out in the lagoon.
Still, Fiorina needed help, so Cara had stayed. Doing so gave her insight into the Guardians’ working style — and frankly, everything she saw confirmed the warnings passed down from her great-grandmother.
Stay away from shifter politics — especially in Venice. Believe me.
On the one hand, the Guardians truly seemed concerned about the future of Venice. But there was more talk than action. Lots of posturing, deliberating, and pushing decisions off to the next agenda. All that was multiplied by ten or twenty, given all the committees and subcommittees they ran. There was a security council. An outreach committee that communicated with the Guardians of Rome, Florence, Genoa, and locations across Europe. An architectural committee. An education committee…
All in all, it was the most top-heavy organization Cara had ever seen. She couldn’t help but comparing it to Venice itself — a city sinking under its own weight.
Fiorina suffered gamely through it and even put up with her overbearing aunt, Ismerelda. Like Cara, the woman accompanied Fiorina to every meeting and appointment. Unlike Cara, Ismerelda constantly prompted Fiorina on what to say, do, and even eat. It was well meant, Cara was sure. But, whew.
The only meetings Fiorina seemed to enjoy — or actively took part in — were those of the arts committee, with its discussions on preserving Venice’s masterpieces, supporting art galleries, and grants for special projects.
As for Cara, she’d had her hopes pinned on — then dashed by — the environmental committee, with its utterly superficial, outdated agenda. Otherwise, the only highlights of her days were mealtimes — and seeing Tony.
He came and went, not saying much about the investigation he was carrying out — something to do with a French countess who’d left Venice after the masked ball. What that had to do with the attack on Fiorina, Cara wasn’t sure. But she didn’t have a chance to ask, nor did she care to. Not when they had precious little time to spend together, and none of it alone.
But finally, three long days after the ball, they found a chance to get away. Just the two of them in a gondola borrowed from Grazia for a quick trip to Cara’s apartment for spare clothes.
Still, Cara glanced back at the Palazzo Rigoni. “Are you sure Fiorina will be safe?”
Tony sat in the middle of the gondola, looking toward the Guardians’ palace. “With my friend Theo there, yes.”
Cara laughed. “As a bodyguard or a chaperone?”
Tony frowned. “Both. Maybe bringing in my cousin Rocco wasn’t such a good idea.”
Cara grinned. The idea had been to recruit trustworthy guards for Fiorina rather than palace insiders. And as a bodyguard, Rocco was absolutely capable. However, Tony’s cousin was a lot like Tony — big, tough, and handsome as sin. But Rocco was ten years younger, which put him in Fiorina’s age bracket. The moment he and Fiorina had met, their eyes started glowing, and neither had been able to get a full sentence out.
Amore, Cara had nearly chuckled. Love at first sight.
Unfortunately, that distracted Rocco from his guard duties. On the other hand, amore helped keep Fiorina’s mind off her worries, too.
Cara stroked steadily along. “Well, if it’s love, it’s love. Who are we to mess with that?”
She’d meant it as a half joke, but when her eyes met Tony’s, her inner lion echoed the words.
If it’s love, it’s love. Who are we to mess with that?
She gulped and dragged her eyes away, telling her lioness to quit purring inside.
It’s not love. We just met, she insisted. More like an overreaction to extreme circumstances.