“You do not?”
“Nah, I jump right in.”
This explained a lot about our differences when it came to this…relationship.
“It is cold,” I said, hoping he understood I had been feeling the same from the distance he had been putting between us. I did not understand why. Even with how warm it was outside, I was chilled.
We stared at each other from across the creek. When it did not seem he would respond, I looked down, watching as the clear water rippled over my skin. It was starting to feel nice. I sighed.So nice.
“Tell me who he is.”
My head snapped up, and my eyes crashed with his.
“I know it’s not the fucker who your family wants you to—” It was as if he could not finish. His hands turned into fists, and even with the heat of the sun, his muscles tightened as if the water had frozen. The vein in his head was swollen, and so were the ones in his arms and hands, which told me even if the water was frigid, his heat could still rush through it. He was such an enigma!
“What nonsense are you talking about?” I asked.
“The dead man.”
“I am not following, Mariano.”
His eyes softened a bit when I called him by his name. I took a deep breath, and it trembled out.
“My men have looked and found no other man in your life, yet you push me away. You speak of being hurt.” He spoke in Italian, then switched to English. “Once bitten twice shy.”
Laughter barreled through my chest as I stepped off the rock, and the water instantly reached my waist. I sucked in a trembling breath and, taking Mariano’s advice, allowed the deeper part of the water to take me under. When I popped back up, the piercing needles of the cold water had faded, and the sun beat down on my face full force.
Mariano was waiting for me. He looked down at me, and I looked up at him.
“Answer me, Sistine, or I might go fucking mad.”
I pushed against his chest, and he set his massive hand over mine. I was much fairer than him. The rocks to the water. I pushed against him again, but he refused to budge.
“You are so vain to think that because I keep my distance from you, there must be someone else! There is no other man. There never was. And if I am being honest, there never will be! Not after the bar you have set. Not after the night of the gala.”
Not after that kiss.
Perhaps I knew it would be all along, but the kiss was real. I could not put it to the back of my mind and allow it to fade with time—to become just another memory. How could it be when it lived, had a breath, a pulse, inside of me?
He took my hand and pushed against his chest, right over his heart. “You do that,” he whispered, his voice low, hoarse. “You can stop my heart. You can restart it. You’re the death of it. The healing of it. It’s yours.”
I was not prepared for the impact of his words. Or how warm they had become. Not even the cold of the water could relieve me of the heat.
The passion.
The overwhelming truth.
Turning, I dipped underneath the water, swimming toward the current. A small waterfall fed the creek, and I did not realize how strong the eddy was. I pushed against it, and it put up a wall, pushing back. My body probably resembled a ribbon in a storm.
No matter how hard I fought, it pushed harder. I was helpless against it, and when it took me in a surge, it slammed me up against two powerful rocks that had been carved into two equally powerful legs. Hands grabbed me, about to bring me up, but not before something heavy whacked me on my head. I came up spluttering, wiping water and clinging hair from my face.
Oh Dio.
The sound of echoing laughter seemed to reverberate around me.
No!
The look on his face told me,sì, sì, sì,the whack on the head was real.
