Everything to Lose (Moonlight Dating Series #2) Read Online Free PDF Page B

knowing things .
    When you’re there, ask for Mr. F. Marsh.
    That line jumped at her and looped around her brain. Odd that Jeanette didn’t provide the full name.
    Frank. That was Dane’s father’s name. The father that Dane hadn’t seen since he was eight. He’d mentioned this to her but never said much else about the man, avoiding the topic altogether. One of the main points of contention between them. She had no doubt that’s where their problems stemmed.
    “Oh my God,” she whispered to herself with a sharp intake of breath. F. Marsh was Dane’s dad. Had to be.
    On impulse , she rushed to the computer in the living room. Pulling up Google , she typed Bottega Trasi in the search box. Several links came up, the topmost one being the official business website. It was a dining venue.
    She clicked on the home page. It loaded with a picture of a restored fifteenth century palazzo, the name of the restaurant printed in gold lettering on an ornate wrought iron sign that jutted out from the stone wall beside huge, solid wood double doors. The rest of the surround ing was beautiful in travertine and a carved angel at the top, and the medieval style of the building was retained. Tall potted plants greeted visitors from both sides of the entrance.
    The interior stood out with a predominance of wood and brass, especially around the bar area. Both indoor and outdoor seating areas were shown, highlighted by a large dining hall and central courtyard. The place was stunning to say the least, and according to the site , was located a few steps from the main piazza of the city.
    There was no page dedicated to the owners or staff. What did Frank Marsh have to do with this outfit?
    Lisbeth pulled up another tab, sheer impulse hogging the driver’s seat. After a few clicks she was privy to possible itineraries to Ascoli Piceno — one would normally go for a flight to Rome or Florence and a train or bus ride to the Marche region. Ascoli Piceno had no international airport.
    Rather than waste time surfing for plane tickets she called her travel agent.
    “Rachel, when’s the next flight to Rome?” she asked without preliminaries.
    Rachel Hurst worked all hours and wouldn’t mind a late call.
    “Uh, hang on,” was the muffled reply.
    Knowing the woman , she probably had a cigarette dangling from her mouth and her laptop at the ready.
    “Tomorrow at 2:05 PM , Gatwick to Fiumicino,” she replied after about five seconds. “You’re lucky to find anything this time of year. Do you—”
    “Get me two tickets please, will you ? A week with insurance… ” She gave Rachel both her and Dane’s essential details—which she remembered by heart. “You have my credit card information . I’ll pick them up first thing in the morning.”
    Her next task was to search for hotels in the area. She found a decent bed and breakfast located on the second floor of a medieval building that was not far from the restaurant, as she had no intention of driving or taking long walks or rides. The online reservation system took care of that.
    She booked two rooms, of course. Her intention , though , was to simply make the connection between the two men, then she’d leave them to hash it out. Dane needed to take care of it on his own before including her.
    She decided to go for it in both their best interests. Yet even if he resolved his father-son issues, she wouldn’t raise her hopes too high.
    Whatever happened, she needed to stay emotionally detached and avoid trouble. If she allowed herself to get involved, it would spell nothing but disaster.
    Fool me twice…
    She closed the browser and sighed.
    Now she had a problem.
    What on earth was she going to tell Dane when he woke up? She couldn’t just drag him on a plane bound for Italy without a really good explanation.
    Then there was the matter of how she could face him at all after what happened.
    Her stomach did a reckless flip, leaving her slightly nauseous. Cold sweat beaded her temple s and