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 the sound.
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.
I opened the passenger door, ushered her inside with a foreign gentleness at odds with my inner turmoil, then jogged over to the driver’s seat.
Determined to get back to the villa, back to safety, to where we’d be able to change into dry clothes, I revved the engine.
From my peripheral, she shivered in her seat.
Her soaked summer dress stuck to every curve and dip, a second skin, leaving little to the imagination.
I sucked in a sharp breath, the scent of ozone and churned earth heavy in the air.
Already frustrated with the woman, now her saturated body threw in another form of frustration.
A dangerous heat flickered in my gut, a primal urge I couldn’t afford to acknowledge.
I forced myself to look away, focusing on the road, but the outline of her curves burned behind my eyelids.
I gripped the wheel, knuckles aching as I kept my sights on the slick asphalt.
“Enzo, please.” Her small, hesitant voice lashed at my conscience.
The wipers struggled to clear the windshield, barely making a dent in the downpour.
“I believe you.” The words tasted like ash.
Not a lie… and that’s what shook me. The tremor in my hands wasn’t from the cold.
It was her. This woman was a loose thread in my carefully woven control.
My outburst set us back to square one. Did she worry I’d exact revenge on her parents?
She bit her lip, staring out at the bleak scenery.
Oh yes, the notion troubled her. I’d broken the fragile trust she’d reluctantly given.
Minutes crawled by in silence on the drive back, tension thick in the air.
“Gemma,” I softened her name, ebbing my earlier fury.
“I do believe you. But understand my predicament when I found the beach empty. I thought something bad happened.”
She turned, a tear tracing a path down her cheek. “You did?”
I nodded and concentrated back on the road. “I told you I have enemies, right? I thought… never mind, it’s over now.”
The villa finally came into view. I parked in the driveway and rushed to help her out of the car. We dashed through the house, up the stairs to her bedroom.
I returned from the en-suite with a towel to find her standing by the bed, teeth clattering and hugging herself. First, I wiped the moisture from her face and neck, then gently doused her head, the thick, fluffy material already dampening in my hands as I massaged her scalp.
The corner of her mouth twitched.
“What?” Rain pelted the balcony doors, verifying the storm prevailed.
Her mouth stretched into a full-blown smile. “I can’t stop picturing you chasing my hat.”
My snort encouraged her to chuckle. “There’s nothing funny about that hat, Gemma.”
“It was funny.” She persisted and poked my arm.
I shook my head in a firm no.
“Admit it, Enzo. It was.” Her lips pouted with scrunched humor, highlighting the teasing sparkle in her eyes.
Her insistence tightened something in my chest, a feeling I neither expected nor welcomed.
The woman in the report proved to be far more resilient in real life.
I looped the towel around her neck and jerked her closer.
Her damp hair stuck together in thick cords, and her sodden clothes left her shivering.
“Go have a hot shower, then meet me downstairs. You will eat, no arguments.”
Her mirth vanished. “Again with giving orders, really?” She clutched the towel I’d wrapped around her shoulders and blew out a sharp breath.
My glare should have been warning enough, but I repeated, my voice edged with steel. “I’m in no mood to argue.”
She smacked her hands on her hips instead of relenting. “Don’t bother. I’m not hungry.”
“Gemma,” I chided again, my teeth sinking into the soft flesh of my bottom lip until I tasted copper.
Her gaze narrowed in sharp perusal. “I said I’m not hungry.” She spun on her heel, her back rigid, and marched to the bathroom. The en-suite door slammed shut, the sound echoing her simmering anger.
I restrained myself from kicking in the door. Control. Stay in control . I stormed down the hallway, cursing under my breath, all the while set on charging back up here with a sandwich. If she refused to eat, I’d force every crumb down her throat.
I bumped into Giulia on the staircase. “Enzo. Quick.” She clung to the rail, breathless, but relief softened her features.
Had she searched the entire place for me? “What’s the matter?”
“Signore Gallo is on the phone.” She thumbed behind her. “He says it’s urgente .”
Gemma’s father? I raked a hand through my wet hair. We’d seen each other a few hours ago. Did his health take a turn for the worse? I raced into the dining hall and snatched the phone on the hall stand. “Gino?”
“Enzo?” The old man’s heavy accent rang higher in pitch. “Please tell me Gemma’s all right?”
The sheer panic in his voice sent a chill down my spine, so much so I reminded myself I’d just left Gemma. Perfectly fine. Stubborn as usual, but still fine. “Of course she is. She’s upstairs in her room.”
“Oh, Grazie Di Dio .” He lowered his voice to a bare whisper. “These men entered my room and asked me about you both.”
I squeezed the phone so hard my knuckles ached. The plastic squeaked under the pressure of my still damp hand. “What men?”
“I hoped you’d tell me. At first, I assumed they worked for you until they asked how I knew you and your new bride.” The faint, rhythmic beep of the heart monitor in the background amplified the silence on my end. “They had no idea I’m Gemma’s father.”
My heart hammered against my ribs, a frantic rhythm defying the measured tick of the grandfather clock. “What’d you tell them?”
“I lied, telling them my florist shop organized your bridal flowers. You’re two nice clients who wished me well while passing my hospital room. I think they bought my story.”
I gripped the table’s edge, practically tasting the adrenaline. “Catch their names?”
“Yes, I heard them address one man as Nicolo.”
De Luca. I feared this might happen. Escorting her to her father led De Luca straight to the old man.
Now Gino’s life hung in jeopardy. A little further digging, and they’d discover the relation between Gino and Gemma.
I curled my first. Allowing her to see her father was a mistake.
One glimpse at her tears and my resolve collapsed.
“Gino, I’ll send my men to guard your room.
I’ll be in touch soon.” I bit my inner cheek, unsure if I fostered more anger at myself, Gemma, or De Luca. “And don’t worry. Gemma will be safe.”
“Please protect her. She is my life. It’s my life in your hands, Enzo.”
The anguish trembling his voice burdened me to no end. “Not one hair on her head will be harmed, Gino.”
“Thank you, Enzo.”
I placed the phone back on the receiver. This changes everything. Nicolo De Luca’s curiosity about my new bride would mean more security was required. We’d have to be more careful from now on.
“What on earth have you done?”
I swung to face my mother, her jaw clenched so tight, the muscles twitched. “How long have you been standing there?”
“Long enough to know you’re helping Gino Galo.” Her voice strained, a thin, trembling wire stretched to its breaking point. She jabbed a finger in my direction, her body shaking with barely contained outrage. “Long enough to realize you’ve developed feelings for the woman you vowed to destroy!”