His passionate eyes came to mine, lowered almost to closed.
I barely nodded, gaining the courage to add to the plea. “Make love to me, Mariano. Perhaps…” I swallowed hard “…we will get it out of our systems and life will go on, better for everyone.”
His eyes stilled on mine, and in that second, the hot passion was run out by frigid intensity. He was pissed, but the feeling of it came out as cold as a Wyoming wind in winter. I shivered, and instinctually, I went to pull close to him. He removed my hands from around his neck and hopped out of the warm pool as if he was a monster emerging from it.
His eyes.
Those light eyes were deceiving.
His temper lived in the depths. Perhaps some would call it a monster.
To add to the imagery, smoke drifted from his skin before it faded into the night, a cold ghost from yesteryear detaching itself from him.
Suddenly chilled to the bone, I covered my breasts, looking everywhere but at him. After a minute, I chanced a look. He was holding out his sweater for me. I took it, slipping it over my body, and although it landed at my thighs and swallowed my hands, I was still cold.
It was not the weather.
It was him.
I understood in that moment what Hannah had meant.
Her warmth had come from her husband, and after he left her, he took the warm winds with him. She was perpetually stuck in winter without his love to warm her. Only the tapestry of theirlife together kept her here—perhaps her breaths continued to come for her daughter of the heart, her grandchildren.
Mariano dug through the bag, pulling out a t-shirt and slipping it over his head. It messed up his hair, making it wild. As wild as he was. The urge to tame it was strong, but I did not feel comfortable touching him. He was as hard as an ancient marble statue that had settled into its design. When he turned toward me, our eyes met, and for a flash, scalding hot heat seemed to make his eyes glow.
“You are mine,” he said in Italian. “You are in my system. As vital as the heart in my chest. The blood rushing through my veins. The air in my lungs. You take you out of my system, and I am no longer able to live.”
I went to open my mouth but closed it, knowing anything I said could not recover how deeply I had wounded him. He leaned down, picked me up, and carried me down the hill, his silence as cold as winter.
It seemed the longer we walked, the colder Mariano got. His muscles seemed even harder than before. He had put up a wall between us.
I wanted to say something to break the ice, but I knew nothing I said would crack it. I felt chilled to the bone, trembling in his arms. He kept me closer when he felt it. It did nothing to calm the shakiness. It only made it worse.
This seemed to piss him off even more.
The closer we came to the guest cottages, I could see Mariano’s men loitering around. Before we were close enough to reach them, Mariano barked out an order in Italian for themto move. He wanted them far away from me. Perhaps because underneath his sweater, I was naked.
At my cottage, he let himself in, setting me down on the bed. He stormed the place, making sure it was safe, and that was when I realized…he must have done it before. Small changes I had noticed, such as a door being left slightly open when it had been closed. I sighed, staring at my hands, as if my nail had suddenly cracked.
He said nothing to me as he stormed out. I braced for the slamming of the door, but it never came. He had shut it softly, the lightclickof it making me flinch.
Sighing again, I stood and went to the bathroom. Ran hot water for a long shower.
All I did was think.
Think and feel panicked.
It was as if a storm was inside of me, and I could not function until there was peace between us again.
I did not recognize this version of me.
Shewas notme.
I was a capable woman who depended on no one. I did not pine and feel…all these emotions that made me feel unsteady in my own skin. It was a powerful swirl creating an eddy inside of me as strong as the one that had pushed me into his thighs. Right into his arms.
As if nature was telling me…this is it.
This is fate.
