“How do you know this?”

“The Underground has encountered just about everything over the hundred years it’s been around, and we have databases to store the history of those experiences. And I’ve personally encountered this kind of situation.”

“And you think David chose me to be a carrier.”

“It fits. Usually someone is directed to get close to the potential carrier and ensure they meet certain requirements.”

“What requirements?”

“You really want to hear this?”

“I have to hear this.” He still hesitates. “Kayden, please.”

“The targets have no family and very few people in their lives to miss them.”

Okay. I’m officially twisted in knots. “Confirmation my family’s dead.”

“I’m speculating, Ella, but Matteo found no missing Ella who traveled from San Francisco and no one in the DMV that fits your profile.”

“They wiped me out completely. But there have to be people who know me. Jobs? Sara?”

“Of course there are, but they aren’t going to make it easy for you to be found.”

“That’s a lot of effort.”

“Not for someone like Matteo.”

“What about a police report in the States? A missing persons report.”

“Nothing. Not there or in Europe, but that doesn’t mean it wasn’t filed. It could mean it was erased from the computer databases and if it’s reentered, a flag will ensure it’s erased again.”

I can see where this is headed. “What happens to carriers when the job is done?”

“Ella—”

“What happens to carriers when the job is done, Kayden?”

“They end up dead.”

I am remarkably calm considering the harshness of that explanation. “That would explain so much.”

“There’s good news in this.”

“There is not good news, Kayden.”

“Hunting you because you’re a carrier will not remain a priority.”

“Unless I’m a carrier gone rogue who did kill someone.”

His cell phone rings, and he ignores it. “We don’t know you killed anyone.”

“I know, Kayden. But I need to be realistic here and so do you. Please get your phone. It could be about Enzo.” He hesitates. “I’m good. I’m fine.” And it’s amazingly true. “Please take the call.”

His lips press together and he digs it from his pocket. “Gallo’s boss.” He answers and says something in Italian before covering the phone and eyeing Marabella, telling me he doesn’t want her to hear the conversation. I guess Adriel was wrong. Marabella doesn’t know quite everything. “I’ll be right back,” he murmurs.

I nod and sip my coffee in an effort to dislodge the cotton in my throat but fail, my gaze landing on the notebook I don’t want to open. “Where’d he go?” Marabella asks, rounding the counter with plates in her hands, as well as a small pitcher of syrup she’s juggling between her arm and breast.

“He had to take a call.”

“Always on that phone of his,” she says, setting her load down on the table, a sweet maple scent teasing my nostrils as she claims the seat across from me. “Thank you for what you did with Giada. She really took to you.”

“We had a good time talking and watching TV.”

“She says you might go shopping?”

I inwardly cringe at the realization that I haven’t called her back. “We’re going to plan it soon.”

“Excellent. She’s a good girl with a hole in her heart.”

My understanding of that statement becomes more complete by the moment. “I can see that in her.”

“You’re going to be good for her.”

“You’re good for her. Maybe all three of us can go shopping.”

“I’d love to, but I’d never catch up with you ladies. It wore me out doing your shopping.” She presses a finger to her lips. “Don’t tell Kayden, but Giada helped me. She’s closer to your age, and I wasn’t sure what you would like.”

“Oh. I’m surprised she didn’t tell me.”

“I asked her not to tell anyone. Kayden’s a very private person. He wouldn’t like her being involved.”

He is private and he doesn’t want Giada involved in much of anything, which I aspire to change, but right now, the idea of shopping reminds me of my lingerie. “The store where one of you bought my lingerie. Is that nearby?”

“It’s right next to Piazza di Spagna, which is the shopping area where we bought the majority of your items. It’s a drive, not a walk. I think that’s where Kayden got all of your Chanel items.”

I smile. “It’s hard to imagine him in a women’s department store.”

She laughs. “I’m sure all the women wished he was shopping for them. He’s quite the catch. Lucky you.”

“Lucky me,” I agree, and with every tidbit of my life and situation revealed, I become more determined than ever to enjoy every “lucky” moment.

And right on cue, it seems, the sexy man in question returns with a notebook computer in his hand, reclaiming his spot at the table while Marabella glances between us, a smile playing on her lips. “I should leave you two alone.”

“Actually,” Kayden says, “I was going to tell you to take a few days off.” He glances at me. “We’re set for the passport office on Thursday, so we can hibernate and let your body heal until then.”

Two days to forget everything and luxuriate in this man sounds pretty darn good right now. “Hibernating sounds good.”

“As does a few days off,” Marabella adds, “but you must eat. I can cook in my kitchen and drop it by if you like?”

“You’re going to spoil me,” I say, “and soon I’ll be on a diet.”

“She’s right,” Kayden agrees. “You do spoil us. Take some real time off. We’ll manage.”

“All right then,” Marabella agrees, “but if you need anything just call me.” She winks in my direction and dashes away.

“Good grief. She thinks we’re going to be naked for the next few days.”

“We are,” he says, “which is why we need to deal with a few issues now. David. Do you know what he looks like?”

I’m a bit stunned by how quickly he’s back in attack mode, wondering what he’s learned that I don’t yet know. “I remember very clearly. Why?”

“Matteo did a search for all Davids that traveled to Europe from San Francisco, and there were too many to be an effective search. By cross-referencing with the California DMV he was able to narrow the pool based on age, race, and travel particulars.”

“I’d also make an educated guess that a generic name wasn’t an accident, and that David wasn’t even his real name.” He picks up the syrup and pours it over his pancakes, then sets it beside my plate. “By the time we finish eating, the files should be in my email. There are only ten, so it won’t take long.”

He lifts his fork and cuts his pancakes, and there is a hint of tension between us that wasn’t there before and can be from only one source. David. No matter who that man was, or was not, in the recent past I was engaged to him, and it bothers Kayden.

“Kayden,” I say, drawing his gaze to mine, and when he looks at me those piercing blue eyes are just a little too cold for comfort. “I’m not going to suddenly be in love with David.”

“You were going to marry him.”

“I can’t explain what my mind hasn’t told me yet, but I know I didn’t love him.”

He studies me for several seconds, his gaze probing, intense, as if he is trying to look into my soul and see my past and my future. “I believe you,” he finally says.

And since Kayden doesn’t say anything he doesn’t mean, I believe him. “I’m glad,” I whisper, and the tension uncurls in my shoulders as a breath I did not realize I was holding escapes my lips.

I reach for the syrup and his hand comes down on mine. “You’re mine to lose—not his to take.”

Mine to lose. The proclamation implies he has to work to keep me, not that he owns me, and it hits a nerve in a good way. “I was never his to take, Kayden.”

“Either way,” he says, “I still have to make sure that you don’t forget me.” He motions to my plate. “Eat. You’re going to need your energy.” And just like that, he is back to being playful and fun.