Page 22 of War Within
“About ten hours, so get comfortable.” I dragged my laptop from my bag, setting it on the table in front of me.
“What about my passport?!” She gasped.
“It was handled. If you want to stretch out, recline your seat or use the sofas in the front of the plane. I’ll be busy.”
Undisclosed Location: Serbian Mountains
Serbia was my refuge from the rest of the world. No one except those I trusted, knew about the home. I preferred it to stay that way. After visiting many years ago, I designed a custom chalet with an architect then hired a designer. It took some time, but it was finally the perfect hideaway above the valley of a small village.
Situated on the side of a mountain, the large windows and terraces offered breathtaking views of the surrounding peaks and a private ski slope. The designsubtly married the traditional architecture of the surrounding view to modern elegance. It was the definition of peace.
The first snowfalls had begun last week, creating a picturesque landing. It began to snow once again as soon as we exited the plane, lasting the entire car ride through the village and up the winding, steep mountain. The moment we came to a stop in front of the house, Jane’s mouth fell agape.
“It looks like a Christmas card!”
“Yes, I quite like it.”
She whipped her head around. “I can see why!”
I guided her through the entrance while the Serbian staff and driver got my belongings arranged. Her wide eyes examined the interior upstairs as I escorted her to one of the guest rooms. Opening the door, I turned on the light, allowing her to enter first. Warily, she tiptoed in, absorbing the décor of the room. She halted in the middle, spinning to me.
“Is it safe to assume you like the room?” I smirked.
“Likeis a major understatement, Mr. Rovati.”
“Giovanni,” I raised my palm, “out of work.”
“Giovanni, sorry.” She grinned, investigating each piece of furniture.
I slid my hands in my pockets, watching her every move. “I emailed my housekeeper from the plane and asked her to pick up some clothes for you from the mall.” I shook my head at thought of the elderly lady choosing outfits for a beautiful young woman.
Jane’s gaze stalked me as I strode around, turning on lamps to make it appear more welcoming. “Thank you.” She exhaled audibly.
“God only knows what she picked out for you, though.” I sauntered to the bathroom, flicking the light switch on. “Please go freshen up before we eat if you like. Your closet is through the door over there.” I pointed to the opposite side of the room. “Food will be served shortly.” I strode to the door.
“Mr…sorry…Giovanni.”
“Yes?” I paused with my hand on the doorknob.
“Am I allowed to use my phone while here?”
I shrugged. “I suppose. Just don’t tell anyone where you are or why.”
She grinned. “In all fairness, I don't know why.”
Remaining quiet, I barely tightened my gaze.
“Sorry.” She sighed. “I just had a date tonight, American time, and I need to call and cancel.” She hooked a finger around a strand of her hair, sliding it out of her face. “He's a great guy and I don't want him to think I stood him up.”
Nodding, understanding the feeling of standing someone up, I smirked. “I suppose that’s okay, but only say you're on a last minute work trip.”
“Of course.” She nodded.
“See you downstairs.” I closed the door.
What the fuck had I done?The reality had started setting in. I had dragged my assistant away from New York to Serbia with a fake, last-minute passport, all because of the past. It was a dreadful history I wanted to forget. It took a toll on a lot of people. Sadly, it was coming back to haunt me, though I was unclear how and if, Serbia was involved.
Pacing the living room, I waited for Jane to come downstairs as the chef prepared our late-night dinner. She finally emerged with a grin on her face, wearing a purple sweater, white jeans, and boots. As I pulled her chair out for her, she refused to make eye contact.
