“Didn’t you like it? It’s beautiful country.”
“It is, but you didn’t answer my question.”
He sighed. “It just felt a little tense in the car, and I figured it would help.” Pausing, he peered at her. “It seems to have worked. Telling that fairy tale of the formerly charming prince who is now repulsive seems to have done the trick.”
She bit her lip but didn’t succeed in stifling her laugh.
He folded his arms. “Are you going to finish that story?”
She grinned. “Eventually.”
“At least tell me this. Does the stranger ever go to the castle?”
“Yes, once the little prince asks the stranger nicely. You’ll have to wait to hear the rest.”
He groaned. “We need to suit you up. I think you’re about my sister’s size. You can wear one of hers.”
“Are we going out alone?” she asked, annoyed with herself for her voice sounding so breathy when she’d intended it to sound matter-of-fact.
Before Rocco could respond, Nico got her answer. Rocco’s father and grandfather came walking toward them, suited up and ready to ride.
“Come on, get on your gear,” Rocco’s grandfather shouted.
His father shook his head. “For a couple of racers, you two sure do move slow.”
CHAPTER THIRTY
NICO
Breathing heavily, Nico skidded to a stop. The trees in front of her were so dense, she couldn’t see a way through. She’d gone off the main road some way back. Should she turn around? Rocco had been somewhere behind her. And behind him were his father and grandfather.
She turned at the sound of an engine. The Ninja came speeding toward her and then suddenly stopped a few feet away, skidding and sending up a cloud of dust.
Rocco.
She stared at him. As near as she could tell, he stared back. But that tinted helmet visor covered his eyes.
The wind had been so loud when she was racing down the path and now, suddenly—silence. She glanced up at the trees. Surely there must be a bird perched on a branch somewhere. Some small animal scurrying among the fallen leaves or burrowing into the ground. Some sound of life.
Something.
Nothing.
No sound at all. Not when he placed his feet on the ground. Not when he swung one leg over, dismounting. Not even when not bothering to kick down the kickstand, he shoved the motorcycle aside.
She watched it hit the ground with a thud. Only there wasn’t a thud.
That can’t be right. Of course there was a thud. There had to have been a thud.
Why didn’t I hear it? Why can’t I hear anything?
Not even the sound of his footsteps as he approached, crushing leaves beneath his boots.
He pulled off his helmet and tossed it aside. Those dark locks tumbled around his face, shedding beads of sweat that shimmered like crystals as they fell to the earth.
Once he was beside her, he removed her helmet and tossed it aside as well. He grabbed her around the waist and lifted her off the motorcycle. But once her feet hit the ground, he let go, and she stumbled.
The earth didn’t feel solid.
