Disclaimer: The characters belonging to Janet Evanovich are used strictly for entertainment purposes.

A/N: A few things before you all start reading. First, I know I was going to try to get an extra chapter out this week, but my beta and I didn't have time to get more chapters ready this week. I'm hugely sorry about that, but please trust me when I say that you will thank me for it. I want to keep up the quality you've come to expect in this story and not post shoddy work.

In addition to that, because my beta is on holiday for two weeks starting tomorrow morning, and also due to the Thanksgiving holiday coming up next week, I will only be able to do two chapters per week for the next two weeks, I'm going for Monday and Thursday right now. I will TRY to get more out during that time, but I feel it's best to be up front and say that this is going to mess with my posting schedule. I know, I know! BUT! I will resume the three times per week posting schedule AFTER Thanksgiving, though the days I post will change to Monday, Wednesday, and Friday since getting a chapter ready for Sunday has been VERY difficult for us. Sorry for this really long note, but I wanted to let you all know what was going on so you didn't worry that this story wouldn't be completed. It is 100% written, however, there are always tweaks and checks that need to be done and this is what takes all of our time! This is for your benefit. Trust me, some of these chapters were a mess before my beta touched them. :)

Now's a good time to thank Rach AGAIN for continually kicking my tush and expecting excellence from me when I want to be lazy. For those of you who love this story, I have to be 100% honest and say that it wouldn't be what it was without her. Not by a LONG shot. She's been instrumental in taking some of my jumbled thoughts and bringing out all the meaning behind them! I'm also going to thank Magdalync for reading this story, pointing out some errors, and offering some suggestions that made me question my motives for the characters — and for just general support, which I appreciate! Thanks to both of you, ladies!

So, just remember, there will only be two chapters this week and next week on Mondays and Thursdays, then I'll resume three chapters per week again, hopefully to finish before Christmas. I'm VERY sorry about this. You guys are so wonderful that you deserve a chapter every day and I can't pull that off right now. And I refuse to just post a chapter without making sure all the plot points are right and such. You all deserve more than that!

Thanks so much for sticking by me. There are only 13 chapters left now! Getting close! That's it. Please enjoy the chapter!

Story Note: Italian will be depicted by italics since I am not about to Google Translate whole sentences. :)

…

Chapter 17

Ranger and I were five minutes late meeting the guys down in the hotel lobby. It wasn't my fault! Ranger was the one shoving his tongue down my throat. When we stepped out of the elevator, Tank pointed to his watch.

"Needed to leave five minutes ago. Heard back from Spitz and he confirmed the meeting. It's at that little pub, Baco's, down near Piazza della Repubblica. The one where the, uh, thing went down a few years back?"

Ranger nodded. I didn't bother to ask. Most likely they'd just say they couldn't tell me. "Let's load up."

"I'm not going with you," Lester said.

Ranger stopped and looked at him, not angry, just a questioning look in his eyes.

"Pancetti called me back. Gonna meet him."

"Think it's wise?"

Lester shrugged. "Want the dirt, gotta crawl with the critters."

"Tank, go with him," Ranger said.

Grabbing Ranger's upper arm, Lester said, "I don't need a babysitter, bro."

Never taking his eyes from Lester's, Ranger reached up and unwound the fingers from his upper arm. "I'd take him if I went. How many times have you told Stephanie taking backup is smart and nothing to be ashamed of?"

Oh, well, he got him there. I could see Lester would cave. He couldn't be a bad influence to his student, could he? "Fine." He glanced at me and I nodded at him. My way of saying thanks. "Let's roll, Tank."

…

The drive took us half an hour, but it seemed to me that we didn't go very far. The sign for Baco's was small, white, with green and red letters. There was a neon 'aberto' sign—or 'open' in Italian—in the curtainless window that was on, but half of the gas was missing from the glass tubes. At night, I imagined it would look like shorthand.

A little bell dinged from above the door as we entered the smoky tavern. The place was dimly lit, the brightest of the light being from the two large picture windows at the front. I saw at least three wait staff, a bartender, and heard talking from the kitchen in the back. There were eight patrons scattered throughout and a lone man in the back near the swinging door into the kitchen.

Ranger marched back toward him. He had dark hair that was thick and curled at the ends, a rugged appearance with a thin goatee and five o'clock shadow. He stood as we approached and looked warily at each of us as we approached, but stopped when his eyes hit me.

I stared at him. Holy hell, the man could easily pass for a relative of none other than Joe Morelli. Granted, a slightly taller relative. If Morelli was Super Cop, then Marco was Super Spy. Wow. The guy had to be six foot four. He didn't look exactly like Morelli, but he had the same muscular build, rakish good looks, and unruly hair. If they stood beside each other, it could easily be assumed that they were related. It was uncanny, really.

The man, whom I assumed was Marco Spitzano, looked over at Ranger and, with an outstretched hand, said, "It's good to see you, my friend."

Ranger looked guarded as he reached out to take the hand Marco stretched toward him. "You, too. Thanks for meeting with us."

"It was the least I could do." Marco had his eyes fastened on me and if I didn't know any better, I'd say it was the death look I was getting from him. What was his problem?

Ranger slipped his arm around my waist and said, "This is Stephanie Plum."

Marco made no move to shake my hand. Instead, he fixed a skeptical eye on me and said, "Yes, I know. Glad to see she's given up the Camila act."

I saw red immediately. Ranger had taken a step forward, but I put my hand on his chest and stuck my finger in Marco's face. "You bastard! You knew who I was and you left me to live in that hellhole? Do you know what Adriano put me through?"

"I am sorry about that. No one, not even you, deserves to be treated that way."

My head reared back and I gave him a look of disgust. "No one like me? Where the hell do you …?" I looked at Ranger. "Do you believe this asshole?" Ranger didn't respond because he was too busy staring at me. Not the normal 'I'm watching out for you' stare, but the 'body still, jaw slack, arms hanging limply at your sides' kind of stare. I turned to Walker and he had a similar expression on his face. "What is wrong with you two?"

Ranger blinked and gave a slight shake of his head. "You do realize you're speaking Italian right now?"

Now that someone had spoken English, I did. I didn't know what bothered me most: the fact that I shouldn't be able to understand Italian or the fact that I'd not only understood it, but had also spoken it without even realizing. Thinking about it now, I realized something else. In all of my dreams, everyone had spoken Italian, including me.

I shrugged as if it weren't a big deal, though it really was. Huge, really. "Well, I didn't until now." I could be cool under pressure.

Walker crossed his arms and shook his head slowly from side to side. "Amazing. I've heard of Foreign Accent Syndrome, but gaining a second language? This is definitely one for the books."

Embarrassed, I crossed my arms over my chest. "What's Foreign Accent Syndrome?"

"It's a possible side effect to a severe brain injury or stroke." At my look of horror, he raised his hands. "No! You can't gain a new language from a head injury. It had to be intentional."

"Okay," I said. "Well, whatever it is, I think we should just get this show on the road."

"Come on!" Marco exploded. "None of you can be this stupid!"

"Excuse me?" I asked, narrowing my eyes at him.

"It's obvious she's telling lies!" Marco gestured toward me. "First she gets close to Ranger, a man with guarded secrets, fakes her death and disappears, just to do the same again with me?"

"What makes you think you know me so well?" I asked, shaking from anger.

"Oh, bella." The way he said it, it wasn't an affectionate term. "I know you. Very well." He took a step closer to me until he was too close. "As well as a man knows a woman."

If Ranger's fists hadn't suddenly closed around the collar of his dark blue button-up shirt and pounded him against the wall, I might have done something similar—only with less success. "You fucker," Ranger said in a voice I had never heard before. It made my goose bumps give birth to goose bumps and my hair stand on end. The look on his face … Holy shit, my boyfriend was a scary mofo. And I might be crazy, but it was hot.

"Wait just one minute," I said in a quiet voice. Marco looked at me in what would have been a bored look if he didn't have to struggle to breathe against the tight collar around his neck. "Are you implying that there was something between us?"

"Yes," he strangled out.

"Bullshit. I've had a ton of dreams about Camila's life. There was a Seppe. An Adriano. A Maria. My son, Carlo, and then there was a Luca Camila thought about. No Marco."

"Ever see Luca?" he asked, his voice raspy.

"No."

"You're looking at him."

I opened my mouth to speak, but shock kept my voice from working. Luca? He was Luca?

"You never mentioned a Luca," Ranger said, turning his dark gaze toward me. "Who was he?"

I looked at him, shaking my head. I didn't want to have this talk right now.

No longer bothering to struggle against Ranger's death grip, Marco started speaking to Ranger in earnest. "More secrets, my friend. She played me just like she's playing you. I never suspected anything when we were lovers, either. She—" He didn't say anything else because Ranger's fist crashed into his mouth, effectively cutting off all speech. He dropped to one knee with his hand to his mouth.

Oh God! I hadn't wanted Ranger to find out about it like this. I sank into a chair at the table and lowered my face to my hands, inwardly beating my head against the table. "I wanted to find out more about Luca before I brought him up," I said into my palms and then groaned in humiliation.

"Damn it," Marco said. He sounded like he was chomping a large piece of gum.

Ranger's low voice was a bit further from me and I imagined he'd crowded into Marco's space. "That was for moving in on me and disrespecting her. She isn't lying and she's not a whore." I heard a rustle of fabric and a thump. "You deserve another one because you never told me about her. You knew I was torn up." There was another thud. "I was trying to find her." There was a gagging noise and I got really worried that Ranger would kill the bastard.

"Walker, do something."

"Ranger," Walker said in a commanding voice that made me want to pee myself. "Let go." Silence, no movement. Walker lowered his voice. "We're in a public place, you need to calm down."

"Ranger, please …" I asked in a quiet voice, looking up. Ranger had Marco against the wall again, one hand in his shirt, the other around his neck. It was pretty satisfying to see the blood running out from the corner of his mouth. He'd been a real jerk. "Please, for me."

He hissed out a breath and abruptly let go of Marco, who dropped to the floor and then down to a knee. Ranger stepped back and clenched his fists, arms bent, breathing heavily. "You're lucky."

"It wasn't … like that," Marco said between breaths. "I didn't know … who she was … until early June."

"Let's sit down," Walker said quietly, stepping between the two men directly in Ranger's path and staring him down.

Motioning Ranger to the seat next to me, Walker turned to Marco and motioned to a chair across the table from us, saying, "It's time you understood some things, Marco."

"Who are you?" Marco asked, rising from the floor and taking the offered chair. He reached into his pocket and checked his cell phone, then tossed it gently onto the table top before scooting up and putting his elbows on the table.

"Blake Young, psychiatrist."

Marco twisted slightly to look at him with a cynical expression. I felt Ranger's eyes staring at me. God, we'd just made up. What did he think of me? I wasn't brave enough to look at him just now, so I made a show of crossing my arms and glaring at Marco.

"Stephanie was not aware of herself when she was living as Camila. There were …"

His voice faded out when Marco's phone suddenly started beeping. Just like in the airport, the beep sent off a chain reaction in my brain. I felt it start in the center somewhere and then the shockwaves, stronger this time, branched out throughout my body. A hand touched my back and I screamed and pulled away. It hurt, omigod, it hurt so bad. My body went rigid and tremors started rippling through every muscle. And then suddenly the pain was gone and I lost consciousness.

…

I looked around for Adriano in the crowd of people. It was almost midnight and thought it would be nice to ring in the New Year together, but the meeting must have still been going on.

"Camila?" Luca asked to catch my attention. I turned to look at him. He held out a flute of champagne. "A toast to 2011." He smiled. He had a fantastic smile. I struggled over the thought, feeling disloyal to Adriano, though I'd only known him just shy of two months.

"Thank you," I said and accepted the glass. The lead singer of the live band came up to the microphone and said, "Fifteen seconds to midnight!" And then a few seconds later, he began the countdown. "Ten. Nine. Eight. Seven …"

I looked at Luca and smiled shyly. It looked like I was ringing in the New Year with a man I'd met scarcely two hours before. He smiled back and when the singer shouted, "Happy New Year!" I glanced around at the couples kissing.

Luca and I looked back at each other, then he shrugged and pulled me into his arms. He was strong and smelled good. His lips were warm and firm against mine. My eyes closed and I clutched his shirt with my free hand.

The kiss changed from a friendly peck to disastrously sensual. He opened his lips and touched mine with his tongue. Instinctively, I opened my mouth and he tilted his head and deepened the kiss, sliding his tongue into my mouth.

I had no idea how long the kiss went on, but I never wanted it to end. The man charged me up faster than a bolt of lightning would have. Could it be so wrong to let him kiss me for a few moments when I'd soon be married? Had I ever felt a kiss like this in my life? I didn't remember and couldn't pass up the opportunity.

When I opened my eyes we were in another time and another place. Luca had met me; though we were forbidden to see each other, he was here. I felt loved and cherished when he risked both Seppe and Adriano's wrath to be with me.

"Luca, you came."

"Always," he said and pulled me into his arms, kissing me soundly, just as he'd done countless times during one of our clandestine meetings. "I'll always come for you."

I smiled and he kissed me again. These moments were happiness. The only others that rivaled them were the moments I spent taking care of my son throughout the day when I finished my housework and could give Maria a break. My baby meant the world to me. And so did this man.

We broke the kiss, but still clung to one another. "Should we actually go see the movie?" he teased.

I nodded. I didn't want to have nothing to report if Adriano asked about the movie. We went into the theater and took our seats. When the lights went out, the scene changed again.

Blinking, I looked around the small flat. Luca's home. I'd never come here before, but this time, I came because I couldn't stay away.

"It's not much," he apologized.

I smiled and shook my head. "It's wonderful. Very you. I didn't realize you read so much," I said, nodding toward the stuffed floor to ceiling bookshelf by his large overstuffed chair.

"It calms me, helps me settle down before sleep." He was looking at me, staring. I turned my head to look at him and saw that his soft brown eyes had turned darker, more intense. "Are you sure?"

I nodded. Yes, I was sure. I wanted to remember what it was like to be loved. "Please," I whispered.

He raised his hands to my blouse and began unbuttoning the tiny buttons. I closed my eyes and tilted my head back. For tonight, I'd forget about everything, but especially Adriano, and just feel like a woman for once …

…

"… eyelids are fluttering. She's waking up," Walker said.

"Shit. Does this happen every time?" The ass queried in a concerned tone.

"It was worse the first time," Ranger said. His voice was a few decibels below danger level. I imagined the look he gave Marco would have frozen my blood if I'd seen it.

"You said she woke up and thought she was Camila before?"

Walker sighed. "I didn't witness it, but it happened the first two times. She's able to distinguish between the two now."

Someone sat down hard in a chair near me. My body still felt the aftereffects of the reaction to the beeping and I had a slight headache, so I stayed still, just breathing.

"Oh God. I was … terrible to her. Please, let me apologize."

A hand on my arm I hadn't noticed before tightened. "I said to stay away from her. She doesn't deserve this."

"I know this now." Marco sighed and the chair shifted. "Let me make it right."

I cracked open an eye and looked up to the owner of the hand, whom I knew to be Ranger. "It's okay, Ranger. Let him try."

"Bella, I've been unfair."

"Ya think?" I looked over to Marco and, incredibly, he looked repentant. At least that sardonic look was gone from his face now. "Why do you suddenly believe that I'm telling the truth now?"

He looked me in the eye. "Because, no one could fake what I just saw you go through."

Swell. He believed me because I was a freak of nature. I pushed myself up from the floor and Ranger helped me into my chair and sat beside me, keeping his chair close, probably to grab me if I went electro on them again.

Marco cleared his throat. "I know you don't want to hear this, but I want to make it clear that we were only together once. In early June."

I waved a hand in the air in a 'cut' motion. "I sort of," I cleared my throat, "just dreamed about it."

Walker sat down across from me beside Marco. "You dreamed about Marco—Luca—this time?"

I nodded. "We met on New Year's Eve." I looked to Marco and he nodded. "And other times." He nodded again. I lowered my eyes. I couldn't look at any of them when I said, "And I dreamed about your apartment."

"Did you know you called out to Ranger in your sleep that night?"

My eyes snapped back up to Marco's. "No."

"That's how I found out you were Stephanie." He leaned forward to take my hand and I felt Ranger tense beside me. What was he thinking? "I'm ashamed to admit I jumped to all the wrong conclusions about you." He looked over at Ranger. "It's the reason I didn't tell you about her right away. I—I wanted to find out more before I said anything. Then it didn't matter because she died. Again."

I shook my head. "Why didn't you recognize me before then?"

Marco looked uncomfortable. "You spoke Italiano and you had very short hair. Marotta was fond of you, and knew your family history." He looked at me, really looked at me, and slouched slightly. "But you're nothing like Camila, even though you look like her."

"I believe you."

Ranger and Walker turned their heads to look at me, then. I finally chanced my first look at Ranger and almost wished I hadn't. He had his impassable face on, but I could see how hard he was struggling and my heart broke for him. "I believe him because Camila is nothing like me. Right?"

He shook his head once, briefly. "She's not like you." He finally met my eyes and I reached over and put my hand on top of his squeezing. He squeezed my arm in response. That was good, right?

I looked back at Marco. "What was up with you and Camila? I mean, I know about the apartment," Ranger's hand tightened on my arm right then, "and I know about meeting you at the movies. What else?"

Ranger was quiet. Way too quiet. I started to get a very bad feeling about having this particular conversation in front of him and opened my mouth to say so, when Marco answered.

"I loved her. I was hurt when I realized she wasn't—that she was you."

It was definitely time to end this. I looked at Ranger, who sat silently, staring at me with a pained expression on his face. Shit. I looked over at Walker. "We need to do this some other time."

With a quick glance at Ranger, he nodded. "I'll set up a meeting with Marco later on tonight."

"Thank you," I said and stood. Ranger stood mechanically and I grabbed his hand. "We're leaving," I announced to no one in particular and pulled Ranger toward the front door. Damn, damn, damn!

I led him outside and to the car. He pulled the keys out and I took them, unlocking the car and opening the door to the back seat. I looked at him and he put his hand on the door and motioned me inside. I walked up to him and put my arms around his waist and he grabbed me, clutching me to his chest, nose in my hair, just breathing. Okay, this was good. Holding me was good.

"Get in the car, babe."

I got in the car. He slid in next to me and pulled me into a tight embrace. I clung to him, wishing I could undo the past and all of the actions I'd had no say in performing.

Walker came out a few minutes later and climbed into the driver's seat. I tossed him the keys and he pulled out into the busy street. For once, I didn't notice or worry about the traffic.

"Rubiano," Walker said.

"What?" I lifted my head to meet his eyes in the rear view mirror.

"Adriano's last name. I asked. It's Rubiano. He's Marotta's nephew."

I thunked my head down onto Ranger's chest. Great. No wonder he'd pushed me into the marriage. It was a family thing within the family.

"I'll call Lester to let him know," he told us and I felt Ranger's nod against the top of my head.

The trip to the hotel seemed to fly by. Ranger was calm, too calm, when we exited the car and rode the elevator up to our floor. Walker had gone to his room and Ranger was moving with deliberate motions, slow, calculated. It was making me nervous.

He opened the door and motioned me inside, so I went in and he followed me. The door clicked shut and he buried his hand in my hair, pulling me into him, and kissed me. I met his kiss with just as much force and our mouths mated, tongues dancing, breaths mingling. My heart was slamming against my sternum and I couldn't catch my breath. He grabbed my t-shirt and it disintegrated in his hands; my bra went with it, and damn, if I wasn't really turned on. We'd done angry sex before, but this was several levels beyond that. This was 100 percent rage on his part, a rage that would only be satisfied by taking what was his.

There was a predatory look in his eyes, rimmed with pain and confusion. He wrapped his arm around my waist and tugged me roughly against his chest, slipping his other hand beneath my butt. I wrapped my legs around his waist as he took my mouth in a fierce kiss. I heard his belt buckle clink, then some rustling and his zipper going. He turned us and took two steps, planting me against the door.

He unzipped my jeans, slipping his hand down inside past the waistband of my panties, his finger dipping inside. We both moaned at the contact and his mouth trailed down my neck, biting and kissing, drawing out strangled sounds of intense pleasure from me before returning to my mouth. His fingers stroked a magical rhythm, hitching up my breath as my desire stoked higher and higher until I could only grasp at him, crying out into his mouth as he deepened the kiss.

His removed his hand and I made noises of complaint, which were muffled by his mouth, but he took my legs and lowered them to the floor, sending my jeans and panties down with them. I kicked them off and he took hold of my thighs and lifted me up to pin me against the door once again. My legs went around his waist and I ground myself against the hard planes of his stomach. I might have ruined his shirt in the process, but I didn't care.

Apparently he didn't either, because he broke the kiss abruptly and, with a hiss of air through his teeth, he shoved his cargos down to mid-thigh and grabbed my hips, letting me use the door to support my back. Somehow he had the presence of mind to grab a condom from wherever … his pocket? The package ripped, and less than two seconds later, he was inside me. I gasped at his invasion. My body had been on overdrive and the intensity I felt at the contact nearly made my head explode. His mouth and hands furiously roved over any part of my body they could reach and his hips moved at a rapid pace, staking a claim that branded my heart with searing heat. Every beat intensified the burn. I'd always be his, had always been his.

I raked my nails down his back earning a low noise from the back of his throat. He drove even harder, if possible, and then, with harsh cries, we climaxed together and he bit down on my shoulder, releasing the pressure immediately when my breath caught, running his tongue over the spot and then kissing it. We were both spent, our breaths broken, pulses pounding, holding each other in a death grip following the whirlwind.

"You. are. mine," he said with his head on my shoulder, before his breathing had calmed down.

I nodded. "Yes."

He raised his head and looked at my shoulder, then tilted his head down to kiss it. "Did I hurt you?"

I smiled a little. "Only enough to make it feel good." I reached up and stroked my hands through his hair and leaned forward to kiss him. He kissed me back, tenderly, slowly.

He kissed behind my ear and squeezed my hips with his hands, nuzzling his face into my neck. I almost missed his words when he spoke again. "Don't tell me what you learn when you meet with them." I nodded again.

He'd let it go the only way he could, by reminding himself that I loved him, that I belonged to him. No words could have helped him right now. He needed to feel, to claim. I understood that and had no complaints.

His eyes were tightly closed, and I got the feeling that he was trying to will away mental images sparked by Marco's confession. He kissed me again, deeper, harder, his lips unrelenting against mine. "I love you," he said after breaking the kiss. "But I can't do that again."

"I know."

He sighed, a long, drawn out sigh, brow wrinkled. "I wanted to be strong, to be there for you, to do my part." He shook his head slightly. "It won't work."

No, I couldn't handle hearing anymore of the sordid details of Camila's life with Ranger present. It might not have been me, but it had been my body and I felt guilty nonetheless.

Finally, he opened his eyes and looked at me. I gazed back, watching as they changed from anger, pain, and murder to the soft, familiar love from our past … and present. We kissed again, making an unspoken commitment that we were together, were in this together, and would see it through. It was the best promise he could have given me right now.

He broke the kiss and lowered my legs to the floor. We hugged, and he held me, one strong arm around my shoulders, the other around my waist, fingers splayed out over my butt.

"We need to shower again," he said quietly.

I was a little disappointed not to be headed toward the bed, but realized that he must have plans for us. I gave him a quick kiss and asked, "Then what?"

"Go visit Marotta."