He stared at me, his eyes intense on mine, but I wondered in that moment whether he was thinking of how to answer me. My sister had said she was in it. That meant…he kept track of the women he…ach. I refused to even think it. I turned away from him, but he refused to allow me to.
“Whatever I have is yours,” he said. “The book is better understood if you read it, as most are.”
“I do not want to know?—”
“Sistine.” His voice commanded me to look at him. “Trust me.”
“Sì.” I relaxed next to him, cuddling up as close as I could, and fell asleep.
He sighed in real time. “I’ve been to this place all my life, and I’ve never seen it the way I am now. It’s like I’ve dropped off the face of the earth and into a found paradise.”
“Has something changed?” I whispered, matching his quiet tone.
“Yeah,” he said, setting a kiss on my forehead. “You’re here with me.”
I looked up at him, the love in my eyes so heavy, my eyes felt as if they might close, the same way they did when he kissed me. “You say the most heartbreaking things to me, Mariano Leone Fausti.”
We stared at each other, allowing the connection to move between us, just as the warmth of the fading sun was, just as the tepid breezes were. Here, it felt as if the connection was wild and free, taking on the freedom the island seemed to offer. The most intense times I had felt it was during our vows, and here…it was just as intense, but also…soft somehow.
A boat was coming in the distance. My husband’s men, along with Dr. Musa. Mariano had persuaded her to come along early. Not only was Fiji a vacation for her, but Mariano also used the situation between Nino and Signor Dandolo to persuade her. Or, perhaps, it was leverage.
Mariano had given Nino an order not to kill Signor Dandolo, and Nino was still fuming. The guitar smash was not enough. Perhaps the good doctor did not want her husband to burn to a crisp from anger. He would only bake lightly underneath the Fijian sun. Another doctor would take care of her patients until she returned.
My own husband might burn to a crisp from his anger, or freeze the Pacific, when I gave him the truth about Iggy breaking into my room at my parents’ place. I felt better that we were on a private island in the middle of miles and miles of water, but the truth of it sat on my chest, as heavy as a baby elephant.
However, I had to be honest with him. He was never afraid of the truth, which was how the Fausti family motto took its first breath—our word is as good as our blood.La mia parola è buona come il mio sangue.I knew the situation was going to be a point of contention for him. He might decide to leave the island early if I decided to be honest with him while we were honeymooning.
“Sistine.”
His voice called me back to him. I had been lost to my thoughts.
“Sì.” I sighed.
He gave me that look. A look I knew meant,Not now, maybe not tomorrow, but soon…whatever this thing is that’s burdening you, I’ll steal it, then crush it with my bare hands.
This was what I was uncertain of.
The crushing.
Even from the short interaction I had with Iggy, one thing stood out to me the most. He seemed as if he would be a hard man to kill. Perhaps by looks alone, he did not seem like much, but looks were deceiving. There was something about him that was wily. As if he had evolved so much, like a fly, that he knew how to avoid death.
I sighed, longer this time.
Over Iggy entering my room, it might be the fact that I had not told my husband right away about the situation that angered him the most.
“Come,” my husband said, keeping us together as we walked away from the shore and toward a path that was lined with solar lights. They were just starting to flicker on. Fireflies dancing in the tropical night.
A beautiful welcome to paradise.
A bright white fire burned behind my closed eyes. I felt as if I was floating in a cool oasis. My naked body was warm, which gave a perfect contrast between the two temperatures.
Then I felt as if an earthquake was shaking me awake.
My eyes popped open, and I instantly narrowed them against the glare sneaking through the blinds. I opened them even further when I realized my husband was hovering over me, his hands on my shoulders, an utterly feral look in his eyes.
“Sistine,” he said, and there was a hint of…panic there.
“What?” I popped up, and he hurriedly moved out of my way.
