Sunlight illuminated her golden-brown skin and the rough ridge of the scar drew a line down, starting at the top between her breasts, going lower. Deep too, as if someone had taken a scalpel and dug into her flesh not just once but multiple times.
He traced it up and down, fighting for control over his breath. Fighting to not give into the panic inching its fingers all across him, leaving something cold and ugly in its trail. Breath harsh, he pressed his palm against her rib cage, desperate to feel the beat of her heart. The thud of it, the soft gasp from her lips, made him realize how roughly he’d grabbed her. He jerked away, feeling as if he’d been hit in the head and it was still ringing.
Her throat bobbed, sending a ripple of motion down her chest, and his gaze jerked up to meet hers. For once, he couldn’t read her expression. Always so open and honest and artlessly direct—her words and her eyes. Yet now, it was as if she’d slammed a shutter down between them.
He traced the scar gently, unable to stop. “What…made this?”
“Heart surgery.”
A quiet roar reverberated within him, demanding release. “When?”
“What do you mean, when?”
“When did you have the surgery, Sameera?” he bit out.
“I had three heart surgeries between ages eleven and eighteen. The third time was due to a valve problem.” There was a forced lightness to her words that he knew was fake. It was probably the first time he’d seen her fake anything. “But I’ve enjoyed perfect health ever since the last one.”
Her words were soft as if she was determined to manage his mood, manage him.
A part of him, the rational part, warned that she shouldn’t have to manage his emotions when she revealed such private information. That the onus of his reaction shouldn’t be on her. And yet, he couldn’t pin his emotions down, couldn’t shove them away so that he didn’t discomfit her.
“That’s where you met Matteo,” he said tonelessly, remembering Matteo going to see their great-aunt who lived in California when she’d had surgery. “At the hospital.”
“In the hospital café, while I was still in my horrible ass-baring gown.” Her wide smile was the genuine thing. “I’d snuck away from my ward. Bored out of my mind because they said I should stay overnight for a routine checkup. I wanted chips. But I forgot cash. He bought me a bag of chips and flirted with me outrageously right there, while I tried not to flash him my ass.”
Emotion rattled him—thick and blinding, familiarly unfamiliar, bringing images to bore down on him like an avalanche. The very thought of Sameera looking small and tiny on a clinical hospital bed stole his breath.
The image was too vivid. Too real.
He’d seen Violetta like that for so long. For four years, he’d spent hours at her side in the evenings, reading to her, playing chess with her, holding her hand.
It was diabolically cruel how easily his mind replaced Violetta with Sam… Sam in an ugly pristine white hospital. Sam with her smile faint, the light in her eyes dim. Sam with her breath thin and faint.
Maledizione!He pushed away from the table, sweat beading on his face. His mind was playing games. Triggering memories from a painful period in his life. Which was ridiculous.
Yes, Sam had reminded him of Violetta from the first. Something about the glowing spirit wrapped in steel that they possessed. But Violetta was gone. And Sam was here, vibrantly alive.
“Alessandro?”
He turned to find Sam watching him with trepidation in her eyes.
“That’s why your parents are so protective of you.” Everything fell into place, but he’d never wanted more to live in ignorance, had never understood Matteo’s love for deluding himself more. “Why you still live with them. Why…” His words became sharp, hostile. “Why didn’t you tell me?”
“Why would I?” she asked in a small, baffled voice.
It was like waving a red flag in front of an angry bull. “I asked you point-blank why they were so protective of you.”
“So?” Anger painted her cheeks a reddish tint. “I didn’t have to share anything with you. Especially now, when you’re actively avoiding me.” She pushed off from the table, her dress still unbuttoned to her belly button. Her hair was in a disarray, her neck and jaw a little reddened where his stubble had scratched her. She looked glorious. “You think I walk around showing people my scar and telling them my history?”
“Why is that wrong? What if you needed an emergency visit? How was I supposed to take care of you? How can you be so irresponsible and flippant about this?”
She flinched, and Alessandro wondered if he was losing his mind.
Chin quivering, she looked at him as if he’d betrayed her in the worst possible way. “I’m choosing to see this as your concern for me and not…” Her words shook, slender body trembling with fury. “If you ever assume that I don’t know my own mind or even insinuate that I’m helpless… I’ll never forgive you.” She swallowed, and that she had a better measure of control over her emotions than he did right then shamed him. “I have all my insurance information, my medication prescriptions, my monthly checkups already set up. As for emergency, it’s no different from anyone else needing to be rushed to the ER.”
“I still think you should’ve shared your—”
“Why? So that everyone can look at me the way you’re looking at me now? I can see the way you perceive me shifting in front of my very eyes…” Her words held a question in them.
