He hesitated, eyes almost pinched shut, as he searched mine for any sign of deception.
Determined to prove I could be trusted, at least with this, I held his gaze. No way I’d risk jeopardizing my visits with Papa now that Enzo let me leave the house.
A tightening around his jaw betrayed his unease, but he soon relaxed. “Okay.” His fingers tightened briefly on my arm—a warning. “Stay put.”
“I promise. I just want to enjoy the sea breeze a little longer.” With the drive back to the estate looming, where I’d rather be in my room than face Carina’s distaste, I wanted to make the most of our time out here. “You can trust me, Enzo.”
He glanced at the coffee shop across the street, then back to me. “I’ll be five minutes.”
Back rigid as if his senses were on high alert, he strode for the cafe.
If I won his trust in this, perhaps he’d allow me to phone my mother. I kicked off my brown sandals and allowed my toes to sink into the sand. Shoes and hat in one hand, I moseyed along the shoreline and flicked sand off my feet like I used to back home. Oh, how I missed Brighton, missed picnics on the beach with Mum, and how we’d barricade our hot chips from those pesky seagulls. Always after our chips. I shook my head and chuckled.
Another gust surged, and my hat slipped from my grip and tumbled up onto the sandy beds. Not again. I strapped on my sandals and chased the stupid headwear. The hat whirled past a picnic table and skittered across the road. I ground my molars and strode to the roadside. One car took its sweet time to pass, and I eventually managed to cross the street, but froze once on the other side.
A man in a black suit leaned against a street post, clutching my hat. A thick mane of dark, springy curls crowned his head, almost boyish against the sharp, somber lines of his face. He frowned, his demeanor devoid of warmth.
A shiver crawled down my spine. This man seemed familiar. The set of his jaw, perhaps? His eyes were mere slits, a dark, intense glare that made it impossible to discern their color.
He shoved the hat at me, the action impatient.
“Grazie.” I hesitated, then snatched the boater. His silence prickled my skin, more frightening than any threat. His timing on the roadside seemed off. Did he seek shelter from the approaching storm, or had he been watching me? Before meeting Enzo, I’d believed in coincidences. Now, I suspected everyone harbored an ulterior motive. Curiosity warred with the urge to flee, but my feet remained rooted to the spot, an icy premonition crawling down my spine.
Chapter 14
Enzo
The cardboard tray dug into my fingers as I left the coffee shop.
The owner flipped the ‘closed’ sign on the door. A couple of tourists, guidebooks in hand, frowned at the darkened windows. “But… it’s four o’clock,” one muttered.
I almost felt sorry for them. This one custom always left tourists gobsmacked, expecting shops to operate twenty-four seven. Not here. In Sicily, people worked to live, not lived to work.
A familiar black car sped past. The same one that had chased Carina and me a few weeks ago.
De Luca.
“Gemma,” her name left my lips in a whisper, in a panic. I charged across the road, scanning the beach for any sign of her. Empty. My throat closed. Other than a few boat owners hauling their rowboats ashore, the beach lay deserted. The foam cups crashed to the sand as I raked my hands through my hair. Why did I leave her alone? I should have insisted she stay by my side.
I whipped around, my heart pulsating in my ears. Impossible for De Luca’s car to be a coincidence. “Gemma!” My voice came out hoarse as I sprinted farther up the beach, my gaze frantically scanning the shoreline. Then her voice—distant, calling my name—cut through my panic, and my head snapped toward thesound. My knees buckled. My stomach lurched. Pure relief shot through me, a tremor in my limbs.
She stood across the road, waving. A bright, oblivious grin split her face. Cheerful, for crying out loud. How dare she smile when I’d just lost ten years of my life.
I stormed toward her, my stride purposeful, sinister, each step fueled by an agonizing wave of dread. The more I neared, the more her grin faltered. Good, because her apparent glee mocked the fear twisting my gut. “What do you think you’re doing, you stubborn woman!” The words ripped out of me, ignited by equal parts relief and terror. I loomed over her, a storm cloud about to break. Thunder rumbled overhead, mirroring the fury in my chest.
“What?” Her voice wavered, the defensiveness barely there. She clutched the woven hat to her breasts, her knuckles white against the straw. “I lost my hat again.”
I tweaked my nasal bridge, fighting the turmoil tearing me up inside. Part of me, the darker, uncontrolled part, internally raged at her carelessness. Another part, the part that warmed every time I neared her, twisted with guilt at my unleashed anger. My jaw ached from clenching. This woman… she was sandpaper on my nerves, frustrating me to no end. Her and her worthless hat.
“Did you think I tried to escape again?” Concern settled in her eyes, entwined with… hurt? Disappointment?
De Luca snatching her… the image sent a chill colder than the approaching storm crashing through me. What if something had happened? If I’d failed to protect her? A potent cocktail of rage, fear, and self-loathing rumbled my chest and resounded in our small space. Gemma’s mouth parted, mimicking the panic I fought to suppress. “Get in the car.” My clipped tone left no room for argument. I stormed to my car parked along the curb,desperate to tamp down the conflicting emotions roiling inside me.
“Enzo!” She called after me as she struggled to reach my side, her breathing heavy and labored from the effort to keep pace, or perhaps from sudden anxiety. “Enzo, I swear I didn’t. I simply chased after my hat.”
I whirled on her, gripping her shoulders, consumed by a crazed impulse to shake her senseless. Grinding my molars, I reined the urge to lash out, to demand a reason for her carelessness, to punish those quivering lips of hers with my mouth for the terror she instilled.
A storm broke out. Instant and without preamble. No sign of a drizzle, but a sudden deluge. Rain gushed and drenched us. I lowered my head closer to hers, the movement slow and intentional. “In the car, Gemma. Now.” My hand slid down her slick arm, and I tugged her none too gently to my car. The salty rain stung my lips, mirroring the bitterness coiling in my gut.
