“Contessa, I will not argue the point with you,” Enzo said sternly. Her father only used her given name when he was either fed up or very angry. She may have her father wrapped around her finger but she still shivered when he used that particular tone of voice with her. “Rian Dalton is the best and I trust you in his care. You will do as he says. I have the FBI here with me, working on who is behind this terrorism, but I don’t want to worry about you. Am I clear?”
Damn. That didn’t go as she’d planned. “But, Babbo...he’s such a...” She wrestled with the right word. Jerk came to mind but it wasn’t just that. He was...unaffected by her in any way. And she found that to be a flaw she couldn’t abide. “I’m sure there are plenty of other qualified professionals out there that we can swap him out for. How about I look around and take that load off your shoulders? I would be willing to do that for you.”
“Contessa! You will do no such thing. You will abide by my decision. End of discussion.”
Should she try again? Under most circumstances she could twist her father into a pretzel to get what she wanted but she sensed this was not one of those times. She’d never heard him so gruff with her. Maybe he was really worried. “Okay, Babbo, I’ll stick with Rian,” she said glumly. “But I think this is ridiculous. You’re going to realize you’re overreacting and then I’ll get the satisfaction of saying that I was right.”
“Perhaps. But until then...you stick with the man I hired and don’t give him any of your attitude.”
“I’ll do my best,” she replied, though she couldn’t promise. There was something about Rian that rubbed her wrong. Maybe it was the smug smile or the way he didn’t bat an eyelash at her looks or her body. She was an expert at wielding sex appeal and most men didn’t stand a chance when she put her mind to it but Rian seemed to look right through her. It made her grumpy.
“Grazie, dolcezza,” Enzo said with a sigh as he clicked off, and she genuinely wished her father wasn’t so burdened by what was happening. She adored her Babbo—Italian for daddy—even if she was, admittedly, spoiled rotten as some might say. She tossed her phone onto the bed and reluctantly returned to the kitchen, where Rian was trying to figure out the Keurig coffeemaker. She didn’t want to be nice but a handful of days would pass at a snail’s pace if they were constantly sniping at each other, so she pushed him aside and fixed him a cup of coffee, thrusting it at him with a glower when it was finished.
“Ah, thank God,” Rian said, taking a grateful sip. “That iced tea wasn’t going to work. I was ten seconds away from stuffing you in the car and driving to that gas station to get a cup.”
“I guess I should be thankful for small favors,” she quipped sourly, watching him enjoy his coffee with a critical eye. He was good-looking. In a smug sort of way. “So, apparently my father believes there is a credible threat and that you are the best person for the job in order to keep me safe. Personally, I think this will all blow over and all that will be at risk is my social life. But my father is really stressed and I don’t think he’s going to change his mind until he gets the all-clear from the FBI, so I guess we’re stuck together for the next few days.”
“Glad to hear you’re coming around,” he said from above the rim of his coffee cup. “And for what it’s worth...your father is concerned because the threats are becoming more personal. You’re his only child. It’s only natural for him to want to protect you.”
“Of course,” she said stiffly. “I’m just saying, this is all pretty over the top. People pop off their mouths all the time. It doesn’t mean they actually plan to follow through.”
“True. But then, sometimes they do. That’s not exactly something you want to take a chance with, you know?”
She nodded, grudgingly ceding the point. “So what now? I’m already bored out of my brain.”
“Not my job to entertain you, sweetheart...just to protect you.”
“Wrong. If you want to keep me out of harm’s way, you’d better find a way to keep me busy. Otherwise, I’ll have to find my own fun, and who knows what that might entail.”