If You Take My Hand (Beachside Sweet Romantic Suspense Book 1)

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If You Take My Hand (Beachside Sweet Romantic Suspense Book 1) Page 11

by Rimmy London


  “These are not as strong as you need, but just take one for now.” He shook an oval-shaped tablet into my hand. Snatching the water bottle from my seat, I swallowed half a dozen times. “We’re flying straight through. There are some pull-out beds in the cabin that are more comfortable.” I released Max and Givanni held my waist as I stood. I leaned heavily into him, feeling cross-eyed and dizzy.

  “What kind of pills were those?” I mumbled, shaking my head.

  “Actually they were sleeping pills,” he said quietly, his voice a growl. Turning his head to the side, he swore like he was spitting out something unpleasant. I flinched, having never heard anything like that from him. “I cannot believe that you had to endure stitches on a bullet wound without any anesthetic. Why didn’t I see him? I would’ve… ” He struggled to complete the sentence, or maybe it was a struggle to hold the words back. I couldn’t tell. My thoughts collided clumsily in my head as I tried to make sense of his anger, knowing that he was blaming himself for something. I frowned.

  “Thas-s not right,” I slurred. “Snot yr fault.” His smooth mouth lifted into a smirk, and I smiled, leaning too close as I swayed on my feet. “Snot,” I continued. “You saved my life s’many times…if you were s-shoot me right now, I’d still owe you.” He responded, but I couldn’t understand it. The deep pillow I had sunk into was too distracting. I fell into a sea of running, gunfire - trying to scream. There was never a way out, and I woke practically ripping my pillow in two. It had been a demon. An angry thing glowing red like an ember in a fire. It was a ridiculous thought, and I wondered where my mind had pulled it from. And then I felt a stab of pain in my shoulder, and I reviewed the last few days in my head. And suddenly I was betting that I could convince someone more quickly of the demon in my dream than I could the events of my life.

  The raised voices outside were instantly irritating. “Quiet,” I grouched, my voice rough and cracking. Swallowing, my dry throat felt like it simply pressed together in the attempt. I hadn’t thought my complaint was loud enough to carry any distance, but a silhouette leaned in the doorway.

  “See?” he hissed. “She’s awake, probably from all your arguing about not waking her up.” I recognized Maxium’s voice, and Givanni leaned in next.

  “Sorry, El,” he said, closing the door to my small room.

  “El?” I questioned. My shoulder throbbed, and I held it as still as possible while I tried to escape the tangled blankets. I only glanced in the mirror, smoothing one hand over my hair and allowing the pain to tell me it wasn’t important what I looked like. Once outside my room I only had to take a few steps to the front of the plane where Givanni and Max were talking into the cockpit. I sunk down in the chair beside Givanni. “Are you having a meeting?” I asked, the word meeting sounding completely out of place. Across from me, Maxium nodded. Glancing into the cockpit, I leaned toward Givanni. “Who are they?”

  He pointed to the right at the grey-haired one. “Falen,” he whispered. “And Senic.” His finger swung left to a wiry man with long black hair. I nodded, repeating their names in my head. Falen was talking, his deep voice easy to hear over the noise of the jet, although the fact that he was speaking Italian didn’t help. Hearing Givanni’s name I looked to my side, surprised to see him stiffen, a quick string of Italian coming from his lips. Falen stopped, glancing back at me before he nodded.

  “We will continue this conversation when we land,” he said shortly. I took the unspoken cue and secured my seat belt.

  “You know, Loriel,” Givanni was tightening the strap around his waist. Once it was secured he leaned toward me, “we were supposed to arrive in Italy - separately.”

  “I remember.” I shifted in my seat, trying to keep my shoulder from touching anything. Givanni’s eyes rested in the direction of my stitches as he spoke.

  “We will be staying with my parents since we are still committed to going to a wedding.”

  “So I assume it’s on Sunday, right? Tomorrow?”

  His mouth tilted to one side. “Well, yes and no. You see, it begins tomorrow but the actual wedding isn’t until Saturday - next Saturday.” I nodded, encouraging the tension in my eyebrows to relax. “We might be able to get away with missing maybe two or three days of the festivities. But since we need to appear together, you will be able to spend some time to yourself whenever I’m gone.” My face was frozen in the same expression I adopted when I heard the word ‘together’.

  “So, um… how together do we need to be?” I smiled a little, hoping my face was doing a good job of looking calm while my nerves went into meltdown.

  “Uh…” He clasped his hands. “Since I have never flown home with anyone before, I would imagine they are expecting us to be a fairly solid couple. But don’t worry,” he added, catching my growing alarm. “They really aren’t going to be too inquisitive. I imagine they wouldn’t want to mess things up for me.” With that he grinned, his eyes taking the time to smolder. I tried to smile back, although the news of having to pretend about a relationship was making it hard - especially when it came to Givanni.

  “Okay,” I huffed, turning my hands back and forth and examining the mostly healed scars across my wrists. I lifted my elbow a little, eyeing my shoulder and the tiny stitches in a neat row. “Hopefully they don’t think I’m suicidal.” Givanni didn’t look happy at that. “So, is there a story about all this?” I waved my hand across most my body.

  “From what they’ve been told, we have been on a boating trip for the last week and a half. They are always worried about the rocks that hide under the waves near the shoreline, and this is my chance to agree completely. You just might have gotten hurt by diving from the boat before properly checking the depth of nearby rocks.” Feeling like I had to commit his exact words to memory, I tried to describe the incident in my head, mimicking his description as closely as I could.

  “Okay,” I finally said. “That should work, I guess.” But I hardly agreed with my own words, looking down at the scars around my wrists and doubting that anyone would believe that explanation. Givanni was watching my face.

  “They won’t ask questions, I promise,” he said, the tones in his voice more soothing than the actual words. I nodded my head, although the doubt I felt didn’t ease.

  “Rocks,” I muttered, rubbing the freshly scarred skin before leaning back in my seat and glancing out the window at the white, wispy clouds. I could feel the nose of the plane tilt, signaling our descent. “How long until we land?” I asked, hearing the nerves in my voice.

  “About fifteen minutes, but you should really stay strapped in.”

  “Okay,” I unbuckled myself and stood quickly, ignoring the stab of pain down my arm. “I’m going to change.” Givanni didn’t have time to intervene as I rushed to the small cabin. It was incredible that we still had our bags. Max was a superhero for that feat. I hoped there was something I could find that might look nice and be easy to slip on at the same time, but those two attributes didn’t usually exist together. I glanced in the mirror. Rocks. Boat trip. Boyfriend. That was it, the part that wasn’t sitting well with me. And although rocks could hardly have scratched my wrists like this, it was easier to explain that part in my head than to talk about Givanni as my boyfriend - my very serious boyfriend. I swallowed. Exactly when had he made the decision that in order to look authentic we would have to be a couple? Was it before the storm - or after?

  I shook my head firmly. ‘Stop that Loriel’. He wasn’t forming some conspiracy against me. It was just that, to him, this was no big deal. No big deal because we were just friends - and apparently he felt very comfortable with that. Me, on the other hand, I wasn’t so sure about. I was the one who could hardly concentrate when the man took his shirt off, on a boat in the ocean where it was a perfectly logical thing to do. What did that say about me? Maybe I was the one who wasn’t sure. After all, hadn’t I kissed him? I shifted my feet. It had come out of nowhere, that decision. I couldn’t even remember deciding to do it, so why had I? Sure
, he was extremely good-looking, but friendship was all I wanted, right?

  My heart raced a little as I thought of his face. Okay, so maybe I wouldn’t argue with more than friendship. So if one-day Givanni found himself madly in love with me, I would accept the fact that I had feelings for him. A puff of breath fogged the mirror in front of me. Great. What was I saying? So I was supposed to pretend to have feelings for someone whom, in reality, I already did have feelings for? Squeezing my eyes closed I pushed any confusion out of my mind, glancing up at my face again. ‘I do not have feelings for him’.

  With a deep breath, I turned to the overstuffed bag and spilled its contents across the bed. It was easy to see which top was most likely to stretch around my unmoving arm. I felt guilty pulling the soft cashmere around my shoulder, but it fell around my frame perfectly. Returning the scattered clothing to the large bag was more time-consuming. The bag folded in half every time I tried to fill it. Knocking my purse off the bed, there was a scattered tapping sound as its contents scattered across the floor. The door creaked open, and Givanni leaned in. I felt my face redden.

  “Are you all right?” He knelt next to me.

  “Yeah,” I answered quickly. We collected the contents of my purse, and I pulled on the strap, dragging it out from under the bed.

  “Here you are,” Givanni said, handing over broken sunglasses. I turned them in my hands. “Those are yours, right?” I could picture the exact spot where I had picked them up off the cave floor.

  “No,” I tried to remember putting them back in my bag, but I couldn’t. “They’re not mine.”

  “But you had them when I found you in the cave,” He nodded his head as he continued. “You wouldn’t let them go. I could hardly pry them from you.”

  I shook my head. “I don’t remember that, but I do remember finding them.” I shivered, thinking of the icy coldness that sunk clear to my bones. “They were on the cave floor. I remember thinking they looked expensive and brand new, so I picked them up assuming they were yours and that I could return them. But when I jumped down from the ledge, I landed on them. I don’t remember anything else. Did you put them in my bag?”

  Givanni nodded, but his face looked grim. He reached for the glasses and I watched as he opened them and turned them in his hands, closing them after only a minute and handing them back. “You found those in the cave?” he asked again as if hoping he heard me wrong. I nodded. Standing in silence, he was staring at the floor for when suddenly the plane tilted. I stumbled forward, suppressing the urge to reach out for his steady grip. “We’re landing,” he said quickly, walking toward the door.

  “Wait!” I reached for his arm, turning him toward me. “Do you know who they belong to?”

  “I - I don’t know for sure,” he mumbled, but his face was a complete contradiction to that statement. “They could be anyone’s really - the way we’ve been working on that tunnel.” I nodded, thinking back to his description of their work.

  “But you’re the only one working on this side, right? The passage from your house - that’s your job? Was anyone working on it with you?” He shrugged a bit.

  “Well sure, there’s the construction crew…” His words drifted a little in the silence, but I waited it out - wanting him to continue. His eyes landed on me like he was trapped. I watched him deliberate before he jumped right in. “You found these on my side of the waterfall. I’m the only one who’s been over there. The only one. But if someone else were to try, Marco also knows about the opening.” He studied my reaction as my eyebrows lifted before pressing together angrily. “But we can’t say a word of this - no one can know.” Givanni stepped closer, capturing my attention. His hands reached for my shoulders with one settling against me and the other hovering over my stitched cut. “Can I trust you?” he whispered, desperation on his face. I tried to find the strength in my voice, but it came out hushed like a summer breeze.

  “Of course you can.”

  Chapter 10

  Looking out the door of our plane had me stilled with shock. The airport was nothing extraordinary, it was built in the pattern of all the rest. It was the mountains settled behind the airstrip, so close I couldn’t take my eyes off of them. I felt off-balance by their mass. They jutted up from the boxy airport with such deep shades of green they were almost blue. Crusts of darkened trees laced the ravines, outlining each with a light trail of even richer color.

  Looking to Givanni as he stopped beside me he completely belonged. The green of his eyes, depth of his skin. His appearance matched the landscape so well it would have been a mistake for him to come from any other place. If he hadn’t been cumbered with bags on every side, I would’ve easily abandoned all my principles to kiss him one more time - and this time I would mean it. Taking a sudden breath of salty air, I shook my head.

  “You alright?” he asked. I flinched as he touched my arm. “What do you think?” Looking out at the dreamlike view one more time, I tried to find a word for what I felt.

  “It’s... intoxicating,” I answered, watching as he glanced out again, trying to fit that description to his home. Suddenly straightening, he turned to me and wrapped one hand, bag and all, around my waist and pulled us together. Before he released me his lips pressed my forehead. I froze at the spark of heat.

  “Would you like to meet my family?” he asked, raising his dark brows at my shocked face.

  ‘Yes, I would! Wait, what?’

  Looking again at the airstrip, this time I noticed a group of smiling faces. Two dark-haired men with staggering heights resembled Givanni in slight ways. The older grey-haired couple I guessed to be parents, but my eyes didn’t linger long on any one of them. A girl as blonde as ash and wheat met my gaze easily. Her sleek hair held the palest of gold tones and shimmered in the sun as the wind whisked it around her face. She didn’t resemble the rest of the family in any way. I kept my hand busy with the strap of my bag before Givanni could reach for it and send me tripping awkwardly down the narrow steps. He skipped to my side, his face on the family waiting. I nodded my head forward.

  “Parents?” I asked. He shook his head a fraction.

  “Well, no,” he breathed. “My parents actually died when I was young.” My head swung around, the twinge of pain in my heart an unconscious reaction. “I was raised by my aunt and uncle.” I nodded briefly, not having time for any other reply. The flourish of Italian the moment we were in earshot had everyone talking at once and Givanni was showered with kisses. He kept up with the excited chatter, and I was relieved when he switched to English.

  “This is Loriel -” Givanni didn’t have time to say much else. His uncle interrupted with a mighty voice.

  “Ah, Loriel!” I braced my shoulder as the lumbering grey-haired man swept me up in an iron hug. He was all smiles, his squinting eyes almost lost in jolly cheek. His wife eyed him critically.

  “You must forgive my husband,” she apologized, but with a delighted smile pulling at her lips. “He is elated that his nephew has finally found someone to share the joys of life with.” My cheeks felt instantly warmer. “These are my sons, Emilio and Adriano.” They seemed inclined to keep their distance, possibly in reaction to their father’s abundant welcome. “And my dear, we are being rude. Forgive me for not saying earlier. My name is Oriana, and this is my husband Dario.” I watched each face, trying to remember names that escaped my head as quickly as they came. “Zoe and Gaio couldn’t make it to the airport. I am so sorry, but wedding plans always seem to come with wrinkles in them.” She smiled with a bit of roughness around her features, as if she didn’t believe the wrinkle was all that important. “And this is Givanni’s… well, she might as well be a sister, she was practically raised a part of the family.” The stunning girl seemed to glow as her cheeks flushed with the tiniest shade of pink.

  “I’m Enrica,” she said, her voice as delicate as crystal.

  “Well then, let’s not stand here all day!” Dario boomed, about sending my heart through my chest. Givanni chuckled n
ext to me. Adriano and Emilio each pulled a bag from Givanni, joking with him in Italian before following after their father.

  “We’ll meet you at the car!” Givanni yelled, watching the family file in the building and turning to me. “So - you’re okay with this?” I hardly knew how to answer. I could have turned in a slow circle a dozen times and the scenery would still be shockingly beautiful. The smell was like ocean and earth mixed together, with a bit of cinnamon wafting from a nearby coffee house.

  “I…” the excitement buzzing in my chest refused to be put into words. “Am.”

  “you are?” he questioned, clearly confused at my zombie-like state.

  “I am.”

  “You are. Okay. Good!” He glanced at me from the side as we started walking, but all I could think about was what might be around the next corner. The airport was so bulky it obstructed anything beyond, but when we rounded the building we came to a chaotic weave of traffic and pedestrians. It felt more like rush hour and much less like a vacation. I stopped myself in the thought. This is not a vacation. The fact that I was in another country shouldn’t overshadow the very real danger we had all just escaped.

  “Should we have followed them through the building?” I asked, ready to charge ahead but unsure of which direction to charge. Givanni shook his head.

  “There’s no need. I know where they parked - it’s just up ahead.” He walked quicker than before, keeping pace with foot traffic. Jogging to catch up, I stumbled more than once. There was so much to look at! Every creamy-beige building spotted with curled iron balconies grabbed my attention. Shops with a dozen varieties of breads in the window had me slowing down unintentionally. Rushing past a red door, I caught the scent of rich, ground cocoa beans. At least a dozen barrels were filled to the brim with every shade of bean. It couldn’t be ignored. I wandered in without a thought. Sun filtered through the window, lighting the stone-patterned floor and warming the small room pleasantly.

 

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