Prologue
Venice
Anika wokeup wedged against Reed. With her head resting on his shoulder and his strong arms around her, she could almost believe their stilted conversation the night before had been a bad dream. She’d known their time together wouldn’t last forever, but found it hard toletgo.
She lay quietly, basking in the heat of his skin, dreading the moment he saidgoodbye.
“Good morning,” Reedcroaked.
She rolled away from him without a word, and he sat up on the side of the bed. The muscles of his back were within touching distance, but she didn’t touch, no matter how much she ached for the contact. He was leaving today, and the distance between them grew wider with each passingminute.
Don’t embarrass yourself. It’s over. It was fun while itlasted.
They dressed quietly, pulling on jeans and tops, their movements robotic and stiff. While Anika brushed her hair, she watched Reed in the mirror. He hunted for his shoes, finding one next to the wall and the other under the bed. Their lovemaking had been particularly feverish last night, their clothes strewn across the room with a level of carelessness and impatience beforeunseen.
By the time she finished pinning up her hair, he was on his feet. Today he left for Turin and would then travel to France. She’d offered him an extra night in her room, but he claimed to be on a tightschedule.
They stood across the room from each other, and she realized she couldn’t let him go without making one last effort to turn the past few days into something more than a cheapfling.
“We um, we could exchange numbers. You know, to keep in touch. Maybe we could hang out once you’re back in theStates.”
Reed rubbed the back of his neck, barely making eye contact. “I’m moving to New York when I get back. I already have a job lined up at the accounting firm where I interned.” He sighed. “Listen, it’s betterthisway.”
“So this is it?” It couldn’t be. The thought of never seeing him again sent a frisson of pain straight to herheart.
“We had fun, and I think it’s best if what happened here…stayedhere.”
She pressed her trembling lips together, praying he didn’t notice how her eyes filled with tears. She had been fooled. This was the real Reed. A player, a drifter with a devil-may-care attitude. A man who definitely didn’t careabouther.
He cursed and shoved long fingers through his messy curls. “I didn’t mean to hurt you,Anika.”
She kept balance to her voice. “I’m not hurt. We had a good time, and now it’s at an end. I’m fine. You’re fine. You never made me any promises.” Her body had never been under this type of stress before. Pain twisted her insides tighter thannauticalrope.
He took a step toward her, his face fixed in a piteous expression. “Anika…you deserve the ideal. A fairytale. I’m not the person to give it to you. I’m not a prince. You should forgetaboutme.”
Impossible, but she lifted her chin and glared at him. “You’re right. You’re no prince.” Her voice shook, and she stared at the ground as tears swelled anew in her eyes. “Go.Please.”
He didn’t leave as she asked, and she continued to stare at the tan and brown carpet. Surely he’d be kind enough to get out so she could grieve inprivate.
“You’re a great girl, Anika. Someone will appreciate you one ofthesedays.”
His words only sharpened the pain. She didn’t care about a potential man from the future. In a short period of time, she’d fallen for him, Reed Stewart, and banal comments about what the future held couldn’t neutralize the agonizing emptiness that stretched outbeforeher.
She memorized every detail of his features. His height, his broad shoulders and fit body beneath the dark T-shirt and jeans, the curls she’d grown so accustomed to running her fingers through, the shadow of hair on his jaw, and the sorrow in his clear blue eyes. He was so much more than she had ever dared to dream shecouldhave.
“I know,” shewhispered.
Silence filledtheroom.
“Anika.”
“Justgo, Reed.” She pleaded now, begging for areprieve.
He swallowed hard andthenleft.
The minute the door closed, Anika flung herself onto the bed. She’d been broken down and emptied of everything but the pain of losing him. Sobbing, she pressed her face into the pillow where he’d lain. The scent of him still lingered on the fabric. A scent she would not soonforget.
