Had Evan hurt J.T.? Had the long history between them and the hatred on both sides led to violence? Evan had probably killed David and Nicole, not to mention numerous other people over the years. There was no reason to think he wouldn't kill J.T., too, especially if J.T. was standing in the way of his getting the diamond.

She and J.T. shouldn't have split up, she realized, not even in the house. They should have stayed together. It was too late now.

A sudden movement behind her sent her gaze darting to the door. She prayed for J.T. to walk through. But it was Evan, tall, blond, blue eyed, exactly like the photograph J.T. had shown her the first time they'd met. He wore a navy blue suit with a white dress shirt open at the collar. There was no sign of Stefano in him now. He looked like an ordinary businessman, except for the wild gleam in his eyes and the shadow of beard along his jaw that gave him a weary, jaded appearance.

"Well, well, look who's awake," Evan said, squatting a few feet away from her.

She struggled into a half-sitting position. It made her feel only marginally better not to be lying at his feet.

"Relax, Christina, we have time. Get comfortable. Nothing will happen until dark," he told her.

She tried to swallow, but her mouth was too dry. She cleared her throat and motioned with her eyes and her head for him to take off the tape. If she could just take a deeper breath, she would feel better. Not to mention the fact that she could let out a scream and hopefully call someone to her rescue.

Evan smiled. "I don't think so. It's my turn to talk. You can listen." He paused, his gaze narrowing on her face. "You're probably wondering about your good friend J.T. Don't worry. He won't bother us. He's done."

Her heart stopped. It couldn't be true. J.T. could not be "done." He could not be-God, she couldn't let herself think for a second that J.T. was dead.

"This little party is just for the three of us," Evan continued. "You, me, and your dear old dad. That's right, your father, Marcus Alberti. You've wanted to get in touch with him, haven't you? Well, you'll get your chance when he brings me the diamond."

She shook her head.

Evan's gaze bored into hers. "You don't think your father will trade the diamond for his precious daughter? That would be most unfortunate. Then I would have no reason to keep you alive." Evan paused. "Your father was smarter than I thought. Nicole said he would make an easy mark. Lure him back to San Francisco, she told me. Set him up to take the fall-along with you. It made perfect sense. No one would ever suspect that I had stolen the diamond. It was a good plan. But somehow your father stole the diamond out from under me. In any other situation I would admire his cleverness, but not this time. I don't like to lose, Christina. In fact, I always win. I'm the best there ever was. You'll soon realize that."

His voice grew almost dreamy, as if he were lost in his own mind. He was reassuring himself as much as her. There was a chink in his armor, a little doubt, she realized. Her father had put that doubt there. He might be the first person in a long time to outsmart Evan. And Evan was not going to let her father get the better of him. But how could he be sure that her father would come? Had Evan found a way to contact her dad? If he had, he was definitely one step ahead-again.

It was because of her, she realized. She'd wasted too much time trying to figure out her relationship to Isabella instead of concentrating on finding her father. That distraction had put her and J.T. behind both Evan and Marcus. She'd been selfish, wanting to know about her past. And J.T. had let her. He'd listened patiently to Maria's story. He'd supported her when it had felt as if the world under her feet were shifting sand. J.T. had done all that, knowing that they were losing time in the chase. And she'd never said thank-you. Never told him how she felt about him. She was terrified that she wouldn't get that chance now-that it was already too late.

Listening to Evan ramble on under his breath, she saw the mental instability behind the good looks. J.T. had told her that Evan had started out as a charming con artist, able to sucker his victims with bright blue eyes and an inviting smile, but over the years things had begun to change. His cons had grown more serious, more violent. J.T. had believed that Evan was losing his grip on reality. She thought J.T. was probably right.

Evan met her gaze, saw something in her eyes that made him frown. "You think you know something," he said. "Something about me."

She quickly gave a shake of her head, not wanting to set him off.

"What did J.T. tell you? That I fleeced his father-that I caused his death? His father was a loser, a gambler, a two-bit asshole. He wasn't even a challenge. And you know what? J.T. hated him when he was alive, used to bitch about his old man whenever he got drunk. His daddy wanted him to be a big football player and poor ol' J.T. just couldn't stand the pressure, so he quit. He's a loser, too."

Evan smiled as he continued, "You think J.T. is going to come riding up on his white horse and rescue you, don't you? You believe he's your hero. You're wrong. I'm the hero. I'm going to get the diamond and the girl." He stood up and leaned against the wall, looking down on her. "You'd like Jenny. She's sweet, kind, beautiful. And she's going to be mine. I will give her everything she deserves and more. She's the only one who ever knew the real me, the only one who truly appreciated my talents. When she sees that yellow diamond, she will know that I'm the man for her. She'll believe in me again. Everything will be perfect."

Evan was truly delusional. Christina tried to hang on to the hope that J.T. wasn't dead, just trapped somewhere, but Evan's words scared her. There was a sense of finality to his statements, as if he were closing a chapter in his life.

Evan walked over to one of the arches in the wall and gazed out, resting his hands on the waist-high railing. She could see the darkening sky beyond him. Night was falling. Where the hell were they? And where was everyone else?

"It won't be long now," Evan said. "Not long at all."

19.

St. Anne's Convent was located an hour and a half away from Florence, in the heart of Tuscany, set on a remote hillside, far from any towns. Fortunately the church was known to the locals, one of whom had steered J.T. in the correct direction; otherwise he might have driven right by the thickly forested hillside.

He pulled into the courtyard in front of a large Gothic church complete with spires and a bell tower. To his right, a high cement wall ran a half mile down the hillside, hiding the convent buildings from view. As he got out of his car, he saw a sign placed near a path that led to a gate in the wall. It said ST. ANNE'S CONVENT AND SANITARIUM. That seemed appropriate for a madman. Evan had probably liked the idea of the chase ending in a place like this.

As J.T. moved across the courtyard, he saw another car parked under a grove of trees on the edge of the property, a flashy BMW with a convertible top, just the sort of car Evan enjoyed driving. J.T. jogged across the lot, ignoring the pain that stabbed at his head and other bruised body parts. He'd deal with his injuries later.

The car wasn't locked, so he opened the door to take a look around. In the backseat he saw a hoop earring, the kind Christina wore. His heart stopped. She was here. Evan had brought her here. Quietly shutting the door so as not to alert anyone to his presence, he headed for the church. He knew the fresco was supposed to be located in one of the rooms off the main chapel. Since the diamond was painted into the fresco, he was betting that it was some type of marker for a hiding place.

The church doors were open, which surprised him, since there didn't appear to be anyone around. Where were the nuns-the sisters of St. Anne's? It seemed awfully quiet, too quiet. He glanced down at his watch. It was six o'clock. Maybe everyone was at dinner, or perhaps this was one of those convents where they took a vow of silence. It didn't matter. It might be easier if no one was around, and certainly more logical for Evan to try to meet Marcus in a location where there wouldn't be any witnesses.

J.T. was certain that was what Evan intended. He'd kidnapped Christina for a reason-to make a deal with Marcus, the diamond for his daughter. He hoped to hell that Marcus wasn't going to act completely stupid and selfish and try to find a way to keep his diamond and his daughter. From what J.T. had heard of Marcus so far, it wasn't completely out of the realm of possibility. The man obviously had an ego and an arrogance that knew no bounds.

Entering the church, J.T. paused, getting his bearings. He opened the double doors that led into the main part of the building. A long line of empty pews met his gaze. The altar was also empty. He strode down the center aisle and through a door by the front of the church, which led into a smaller chapel.

He caught his breath. There on the wall was the painting. He stopped and stared, shocked that he had actually found it, that it still existed. There was Catherine de Medici and her damned diamond.

J.T. walked over to the wall and ran his hand along the surface, feeling lines and grooves beneath the paint. He traced the diamond with his finger, pushed, knocked, tapped to see if he heard a hollow ring. He moved his hand lower, almost feeling like a jackass for fondling the breasts of a woman in a painting, but his instincts told him the fresco meant something. The painter was supposed to help Catherine hide the diamond. What better place than in the painting itself?

He tried to remember what else Christina had told him about the painting, about the curse. Something niggled at the back of his brain. Catherine had called the diamond her heart, because inside the stone was a rare flaw, a natural occurring mineral inclusion in the shape of a heart. Bingo. He ran the tips of his fingers over Catherine's heart and felt a small, inconspicuous knob. He pulled it, and a small section of the wall opened up, revealing a dark hole. Sticking his hand inside, he reached around, hoping to feel the cold planes of a diamond. Nothing was there. The hiding place was empty.

Fear rocketed through his body. Was he too late? Had Evan and Marcus come and gone? Where was Christina? What the hell had happened?

He closed the small door in the wall and looked around. Instinct told him that they couldn't be far. They had to be here somewhere. The car was still in the lot.

Christina shifted on the floor, trying to get her legs out in front of her so she could lean against the wall. Her muscles were cramping, and she was starting to panic at the thought of not being able to open her mouth. Evan was getting scarier by the moment. He kept walking around the small space, looking out each long window as if a different view would give him a different answer. He was getting impatient. She could feel the tension emanating from his body.

What would happen if her father didn't come? What would Evan do with her?

Evan turned to face her again. "He's late."

She wished she could answer him. She wished he would take the tape off her mouth so she could try to talk him out of whatever plan he had in mind.

"If he doesn't come, you're in a lot of trouble," Evan continued. "I won't have any use for you." He glanced back at the open archway. "It would be easy to fall," he mused. "Just that one little railing, not even waist-high. Someone could trip, stumble, go right over the side. It's a long way down to the courtyard."

Chills ran through her at his words. She wanted to pray. She was in a church tower, after all. Maybe God was listening. But what should she pray for? If her father came and handed over the diamond, Evan wouldn't need either of them. He might kill them both. If her father didn't come, at least he'd still be safe. But for how long? Evan wouldn't give up. He wanted that diamond, and he wouldn't stop until he got it.

The sound of footsteps drew her attention to the door.

Evan pulled a gun from his suit jacket.

The door flew open. J.T. entered the tower, gun drawn, eyes blazing. Christina couldn't believe it was him. She'd expected to see her father, but it was J.T. He was alive. Thank God! But he was hurt, she realized. One side of his face was swollen, purple, and the skin around his eye was turning black. She could see blood in his hair and on his shirt.

Evan moved closer to her, turning his gun to her head.

"Drop it," J.T. ordered, his gun aimed at Evan's heart.

"You drop it, or Christina dies," Evan returned.

"I'll kill you before you have a chance to pull the trigger."

"Are you sure you can beat me-that you won't miss the shot?" Evan drawled. "You're not a clutch player, J.T. Isn't that why you quit football-too many losses in the last two minutes of the fourth quarter? Too many missed passes? Are you willing to take that chance on Christina's life? This is my game. Don't let yourself think otherwise."

"Wrong. This is the end of your game. If you wanted me out of it, you should have killed me at the farmhouse." His gaze narrowed on Evan. "But you didn't. That was sloppy. Getting careless, Evan?"

"Not for a minute. It's more fun when you're in the chase, J.T. Don't you know that by now?"

"Drop the gun," J.T. repeated, his gaze determined.

Christina felt reassured by his demeanor. However, her hopes diminished when she looked at Evan and saw the same confidence in his expression.

Both men wanted to win, but that wasn't possible. Someone would lose. It couldn't be J.T.-not just for her sake, but for his sake as well. He had waited a long time to have Evan in his sights. He wanted payback for his father, justice, revenge. And she was in the way. She wished she could disappear, take herself out of this moment. She didn't want to be the reason J.T. lost Evan again, but she was caught. She couldn't move. She couldn't speak. She couldn't do anything to stop what was about to happen. She could only watch.

The two men exchanged a long, measuring look, as if they were each weighing their options. She knew J.T. was strong, courageous, and not at all the kind of man who would choke in a crisis. But Evan was clever, cunning, and far more reckless. Evan didn't have boundaries. J.T. did. Evan had nothing to lose; he was a criminal with no conscience. If he were caught, he could spend the rest of his life in jail. He would fight to the end.

"Let Christina go," J.T. said. "This is between us, Evan. It started with us, and it should end with us."

"We're nowhere near the end," Evan replied. "Not everyone is here yet."

"Her father isn't coming. He's downstairs. I told him to stay there," J.T. said, surprising Christina with his words. She wondered if he was telling the truth or bluffing. She certainly didn't have a good track record when it came to reading men and their lies.

"Oh, he'll come," Evan replied. "I have his daughter. There is nothing like the love between a father and his child. But you already knew that, didn't you, J.T.?"

Christina inwardly winced at the painful stab Evan had just taken at J.T., reminding him of the father he'd lost. Evan was certainly willing to play every card in his hand.

"Your father told me how disappointed you would be in him-after he lost all his money," Evan continued. "He said it would give you one more reason to hate him-the way he hated you. He said you were an ungrateful son of a bitch, not appreciating everything he had done for you."

"Do you really believe I care what you say or think?" J.T. challenged.

"Just passing the time."

"You'll have lots of time to pass in jail," J.T. returned. "You won't be getting out for a long, long time."

"You've said that before, but somehow it never works out that way. No one can catch me, J.T. I'm invincible."

Before J.T. could reply, more footsteps came pounding up the stairs.

"Stay out!" J.T. shouted. "Don't come in here. It's a trap. Call the police."

Evan shifted so close to Christina that his leg brushed against her arm, the barrel of the gun moving closer to her head.

The footsteps kept coming despite J.T.'s warning. A moment later her father entered the room. He was wearing black slacks, a gray button-down dress shirt, and a confident, reassuring smile. Her heart skipped a beat. He had come to rescue her. She didn't know why she had ever doubted him. Of course he'd come. He stopped just inside the door, his smile dimming as he realized the trouble she was in. "Christina, my God! Are you all right?" Marcus took a step forward.

"Not so fast," Evan warned. "Don't move or she takes a bullet in the head, Pops."

Marcus stopped abruptly. "You don't have to hurt her. I'm here. I have what you want." He glanced over at J.T. "You couldn't stop this from happening? Aren't you the FBI agent who's supposed to be protecting my daughter?"

"Nice to meet you, too," J.T. snapped. "And you're the reason your daughter has a gun to her head. You have a hell of a lot to explain."

"He can explain later," Evan ordered. "Now hand over the diamond, Alberti, or your daughter is dead."

"You think you're going to kill Christina and walk away?" J.T. asked. "You're out of your fucking mind, Evan. There's no way you're leaving here with the diamond. You shoot Christina, I'll shoot you."

"It could work that way," Evan admitted. "But you can't watch me kill Christina. You won't take that chance. I know you as well as you know yourself-probably better."

Christina wondered if Evan was right. J.T. was an honorable man, but he also wanted Evan so badly he could taste it. She'd learned from her father that the line between right and wrong could shift with desire. Would it shift with J.T.'s desire for revenge and payback? Or his desire for her?

J.T.'s hand was steady, his gun still fixed on Evan. Evan was equally strong. Someone would have to break first. Who would it be?

Marcus put up a hand. "There's no need for anyone to shoot. I have the diamond. I'm prepared to hand it over. No one needs to get hurt. Please."

Her father reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out the diamond necklace. It glittered in the shadows. Marcus looked at her, then at the jewel. She thought she saw a flash of indecision in his eyes. Could he really do it-could he put her first after all these years?

"Give it to him, Alberti," J.T. ordered. "You've caused your daughter enough grief in her life. What are you waiting for?"

"I am sorry, Christina," Marcus muttered. "I didn't mean to involve you. I never thought you would come to Italy." He fingered the diamond in his hand and then lifted it to toss to Evan.

Christina watched the necklace leave her father's hand. Everything moved in slow motion. The yellow diamond streaked through the air. Evan's body tensed as he raised his hand to catch it.

It was her moment, she realized. Evan was so close to her, and all his attention was focused on the diamond. It was possible that the gun pointing at her head would go off, but it was a chance she had to take. She couldn't let Evan win. She couldn't let anyone else get hurt. God only knew what he would do once he had the diamond.

She threw her body as hard as she could at Evan's knee. He stumbled and the gun discharged before it flew across the floor. She waited for a searing pain that didn't come.

J.T. tackled Evan. They struggled for the gun in J.T.'s hand.

Her father came to her aid, ripping the tape off her mouth. "I'm sorry," he muttered.

"Untie my hands," she said, keeping her gaze on J.T. and Evan as they battled for the gun. They shoved and pushed, ramming each other into the wall. They were evenly matched in size, height, and determination. They moved closer to one of the open arches in the tower, their struggle so intense neither one could see what was coming.

Christina screamed at J.T., "Watch out!"

"Get her out of here," J.T. yelled at Marcus. "Keep her safe."

"Help him," she told her dad. "I can do this."

"I have to get you away," Marcus said. Her father went to work on the rope binding her legs. Their hands clashed as she tried to help him with the knots. When she was free she jumped to her feet. She stumbled, her legs cramping from the position she'd been in. Her father tried to pull her out of the tower, but she couldn't go. She couldn't leave J.T. She had to find a way to help him. Evan's gun was on the floor where he'd dropped it. She scrambled to get it.

Her move distracted J.T. The second he turned his head, Evan wrestled the gun out of J.T.'s hand. He aimed it at Christina, his finger on the trigger, his eyes wild. "Stay back. I'll kill her."

Christina froze, seeing the truth in Evan's expression. His finger was already beginning to tighten.

"Get her out of here," J.T. told Marcus again.

"Christina, please," Marcus said, worry in his voice.

"Don't move," Evan ordered. His gun never wavering, he squatted down and picked up the diamond necklace from the ground and put it in his pocket. He had what he wanted. Now what?

Christina moved slightly, catching J.T.'s eye. His lips tightened. He gazed back at Evan and put up his hands. "You win. Take the diamond; go."