Free Reckless by MAGGIE SHAYNE Page A

he could be out by now, couldn't he?”
Toni felt her stomach turn over. Had his father gone to prison
before his mother had abandoned him or just after? She couldn't
help seeing the sweet, dark-haired little boy in the photo, with
his front tooth missing, and feeling the incredible hurt he must've
felt then.
    Nick shrugged. “I never bothered to find
out.”
    “What was he—”
    Nick's head came up. “That's enough, Antonia.
I'm not up to telling you my life story, and I can't imagine why
you'd want to hear it.” Again he tipped his head back and folded
his arms behind it.
    Toni took a seat on the sofa and studied him.
The tension in his body seemed to be ebbing. He'd been wound up and
nervous from his encounter with Taranto when he'd first come in.
Now the mellow piano and the soothing voice coming from the Bose
system seemed to be calming him.
    “You like the blues,” she said, unconsciously
keeping her voice low, out of respect for the music. “I never would
have guessed.”
    “Relaxes me.”
    She shifted, feeling anything but relaxed.
“Was it whoever was here before that got you all tensed up, or
talking about your parents?”
    He didn't move. “You don't know when to quit,
do you? Okay, I'll bite. How'd you know someone was here?”
    “It was a guess. I saw the red light come on,
by the panel.”
    His head moved enough to nod. “Sharp
lady.”
    “Are you going to tell me who it was?”
    “What do you think?”
    Antonia sighed and got to her feet. He'd
given away all he was going to. Her stomach protested softly, and
she realized it must be nearly noon. “Am I allowed to help myself
to some lunch?”
    He nodded. “Can you cook?”
    “It is not one of my more highly developed
skills. I was thinking along the lines of a sandwich or some
cottage cheese.” She walked to the refrigerator and scanned its
contents. “Or some yogurt,” she said, spying the row of
containers.
    “Help yourself.”
    Toni hesitated, then shrugged. “You want
one?”
    “Why not?”
    She picked peaches and cream for her,
strawberry banana for him, located two spoons and carried them back
to the sofa. She held the plastic cup out to him, and he took it.
Their fingers touched and for a moment that seemed eternal, Toni
didn't take her hand away. When she did, she felt flustered and not
sure what to say.
    Something had passed between them. Some
unspoken agreement or understanding. He wouldn't hurt her. She'd be
safe as long as she was with him. He'd been saying so all along,
but she was sure of it now. She didn't quite hate him anymore. She
was beginning to see that there were reasons he'd become what he
had—strong emotions that had shaped him into the man he was. If he
was bitter, it was no wonder. He was alone in the world. And she
knew what that felt like.
    He seemed content to relax there with the
music filling the room. Toni was eager to write down some of the
interesting discoveries she'd made here and begin to fit them into
her plot and Katrina Chekov's world. She hesitated, though. The
fact remained that she was Toni Rio and her book would ruin Lou
Taranto. If Nick found out, all bets were off.
    She finished her yogurt. “You speak any
Spanish, Nick?”
    “Not a word,” he said, taking his last bite.
She couldn't seem to take her eyes from him as he licked the pink
cream from his lips. “Although I can tell when you're swearing at
me.” He got up at long last, carried the cup to the kitchen sink
and rinsed it. “I have to go out again. I might be a while.”
    Toni sighed loudly.
    “Don't tell me you'll miss me.” He was
mocking, but not cruelly. It was almost a friendly sort of
teasing.
    “In your dreams, I might,” she replied in the
same tone. She took her cup to the sink as he had, rinsed it, then
turned, leaning her back on the drain board. “I don't like being
locked up here alone. There's not a window in the place, not a soul
to talk to—”
    “There's music,” he said. “There are all
those books.”