Gasping and coughing, Chiara crawled onto them. I followed behind her, boosting her up.
“S-stupid, f-f-foolish man.” Chiara chattered.
I collapsed next to her, panting.
My hold was slipping. Voices above shouted down to us.
Damn.
People would see me fade into a ghost.
I scooted back against the wall, but I wasn’t sure it would be enough.
Chiara’s face was inches from mine.
“Oh, Jack,” she breathed.
Her cold fingers grasped my wet cheek, firmly holding on to my head.
And then she kissed me.
Soft, chilled lips. Demanding mouth. Taking without asking.
It was all the motivation I needed to hold on to my corporeality for another second or two. I wrapped a hand in her wet hair and half dragged her onto my lap.
The horrific pain of holding my body in this world pounded, demanding that I let myself sink back into my shadow state.
Fire licked my arms, searing heat. Agony.
But I clung on.
Chiara was here. In my arms. Warm and willing and so very alive.
Her touch was worth the pain.
I kissed her again. Loving the give and slide of her mouth. The breath moving between us.
Little by little, I felt myself slipping. I couldn’t hold on, no matter how much I wished to.
“I’m sorry,” I whispered against her lips.
“No!” She reached for me.
But I had already let go, using my last gasp of energy to melt into the rock behind me.
EIGHTEEN
Chiara
Clearly, I had offended some long-lost Etruscan deity. That was the only logical explanation.
First, the German tourist refusing my help and nearly drowning me instead. Me, getting tangled in the fishing trap. Then Jack arriving to save me . . . which, okay, maybe that wasn’t a bad point. But Jack had clearly thoroughly exhausted himself. The finalcoup de grâce? My cell phone. It had been in my pocket and was now waterlogged and useless.
After Jack had collapsed—his body disappearing and melting into the stone of the harbor seawall—I had intended to stay right there, huddled on the stone landing. I would wait for Jack to reappear, despite being soaking wet and shivering.
But people above were calling down to me and two college students insisted on pulling me off the ledge. When my feet hit the lane above, people crowded around, asking questions, wondering where the man with me had gone. Honestly, my brain was too numb to reply.
I eventually managed to make it back to the apartment, miserably cold, clutching my now-ruined cell phone. Free from the mob of people, my mind obsessed over Jack.
