The Wicked Prince

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The Wicked Prince Page 19

by Nicole Burnham


  “It’s nothing a warm shower won’t fix,” she insisted, though the spots were beginning to throb.

  “I don’t think so.” He pressed the tissue to the area beneath the wound to stop the blood from running down her leg. Sharp pain radiated from the two punctures, causing her to wince.

  He met her gaze. “Frannie, I don’t want to alarm you, but this looks like a snake bite.”

  Chapter 18

  “I’m sure it’s not a snake bite. You’re imagining things,” Frannie told him. She swatted his hand away to look for herself. Wouldn’t a snake bite hurt worse? Wouldn’t she have seen a snake?

  Though, given the mud and water flowing down the hill, maybe she wouldn’t have. She could barely see through the windshield, even with the wipers going.

  She shifted her leg so the dome light shone directly on the injury. She had to admit, at least inwardly, that the bloody holes—distinctly shaped, identical in size, and spaced less than two finger-widths apart—looked like a snake bite.

  Alessandro’s hand curled around her calf. “I’m not imagining things. Now that it’s in the light, this looks worse than I thought.”

  “Let me keep pressure on it while you drive.” She forced a calm tone, though she grew increasingly worried as she studied her shin. “I didn’t see a snake anywhere. It’s just as likely I fell onto a branch or some other sharp object. Chloe will know for sure. Better to let her handle it.”

  Alessandro stared at the wound for a moment, as if weighing his options. His fingers tightened around her calf for a moment, then he released her and twisted to reach into the back seat.

  “I brought my things in case I couldn’t make it back up the hill. I have a hand towel you can use to cover it. It’ll be better than the tissue.”

  “Thank you.” She hated to stain his towel, but at least she wouldn’t have to argue with him about whether to drive or try to treat the injury here.

  He pulled his backpack into his lap, then began rummaging through it. The distinct clink of glass striking one of the buckles made her look up. At the same time, he blanched.

  She realized why as he withdrew the hand towel and shifted his arm to block the contents of his bag from her view.

  A sickening lump formed in the pit of her stomach as she took the small gray towel and pressed it to her shin. After he returned the backpack to the back seat and put the truck in gear, she said, “You took a bottle of Scotch from the cabinet.”

  She could hardly breathe while waiting for his response. When that response finally came, it was wholly unsatisfactory.

  “I have a bottle of Scotch in my bag, yes. But I didn’t take it from your office.”

  A million angry responses formed on her tongue and died. What could she say?

  She stared at the rain-soaked road. The drops hitting the roof and windows made it sound like they were trapped inside a giant metal drum.

  “I assume from your silence that you’re upset. I wish I could explain, but to do so would break someone’s trust. They’d be deeply hurt.” His voice sounded strained, though how much was because he regretted taking the Scotch and how much was regret she’d caught him with it, she didn’t know. She wasn’t sure she wanted to know.

  “Frannie, I know this sounds crazy, but I gave my word about what I’d do with this bottle. I didn’t want to leave it behind in the bunkhouse, not knowing when we’d return, or even who’d return first. It’s in my bag specifically so the kids won’t find it.”

  She dug her fingers into the armrest. “You promised me you would follow the rules. No alcohol at the shelter, and you know that includes when you’re with the kids for the evacuation. Worse, you’ve apparently had it in the boys’ bunkhouse, which is the last place it should be.” She could continue, but what was the point? Talk about breaking someone’s trust…he’d broken hers. “I thought we had an understanding.”

  “We did. We do. I haven’t opened it. I won’t open it. But I can’t return it to your office, either. Please don’t ask me to.” His fingers brushed her thigh. “I’ll explain as soon as I can, but I need to keep that bottle safe. It will mean the world to someone.”

  She jerked away. “Keep your eyes on the road.”

  A wave of bitterness surged through her. She’d allowed the moment in her office to mean more to her than it should have. She’d been gullible. Naive.

  And if it hadn’t been for that moment of bonding in her office, would she have dared kiss him?

  “Frannie, I—”

  “Please. First things first. Let’s get out of the weather, then I can have Chloe look at my leg” —she was careful not to say bite— “and we’ll see where things stand. I’m sure Chloe and Sam have been busy with the kids. They’ll need our help.”

  She didn’t want to hear excuses. She didn’t want to argue about returning the Scotch to her office. She didn’t want to feel like a nagging parent. She didn’t want to feel the anger that caused her head to pound.

  She turned toward the window and thumbed a tear from the corner of her eye when Alessandro wasn’t looking.

  Most of all, she didn’t want to admit to herself that the sight of a bottle in a backpack broke her heart.

  * * *

  Alessandro drove like a bat out of hell, if one envisioned hell as waterlogged, rather than fiery.

  He gritted his teeth each time he was compelled to slow for a curve or to keep the truck from slipping on the clusters of wet leaves and mud that caked the roadway. Much as he wished Frannie hadn’t seen the Scotch, it paled in comparison to the horror he felt at seeing her leg.

  Kilakuru had snakes. Some harmless, some not. Tommy had assured Alessandro during his first days on the island that snakes were rarely seen, preferring to shun humans. But in the middle of a muddy rainforest road, snakes didn’t expect to see humans, let alone have a human fall on them.

  He pressed the gas and covered what would’ve taken five minutes to drive in perfect weather in less than four. He parked the truck alongside the building, close to the rear entrance, then turned to Frannie. Her forehead was puckered as she stared up at the dark building, as if her mind were elsewhere.

  “Frannie?”

  “When did you lose electricity?” The rain fell thick and fast against the windows, making it difficult to hear her, even after he cut the engine.

  “Last night.”

  She didn’t move. “Me, too. Generator worked. Kicked in perfectly. Lights were only out a few seconds. I assume the kids were all right with their flashlights? Everyone’s worked?”

  “They were fine.” He didn’t care about the generator. Or the flashlights. “Let’s get inside.”

  She blinked, then straightened in the seat. “All right.”

  Frannie opened the door before he could get around to help her. She’d tied the hand towel around her shin, but it slipped as they ducked their heads against the rain and entered the church. Sam was waiting for them just inside.

  “Saw you parking the truck. How’d you get here so fast?”

  “Joe was already on his way with Frannie.” Alessandro gestured toward Frannie’s leg. The top of the towel had turned an ugly brown-red with blood. “Where’s Chloe?”

  Sam grimaced at the sight of the injury. “I’ll have her meet you in the choir room. It has the most light and it’s away from the kids.”

  “I know where it is,” Frannie said.

  Sam spun to find Chloe. Frannie set her bag on the floor, then peeled off her rain jacket one arm at a time and hung it on a hook to the side of the door.

  “You seem very calm,” Alessandro said quietly. He hadn’t wanted to alarm Sam, but surely Frannie realized she needed medical attention as soon as possible.

  “I told you, I’m fine.”

  He ground his back teeth. She wasn’t fine. Frannie was always calm, but this was different. She wouldn’t even look at him. Then he realized that this wasn’t pain or fear; this was disappointment. In him. To cover, she was going through the motions of her role a
s director. Asking about electricity, hanging her coat on the hook just-so.

  So be it. If it kept her distracted from the threat to her health, he could take it.

  He followed Frannie to the choir room. Chloe met them moments later, first aid kit in hand. “Glad you made it. According to the radio reports, this next band is going to hit hard. Sam said Frannie’s hurt?”

  “She slipped in mud walking to the truck,” Alessandro explained. “She either hit something sharp or something bit her when she fell. She has puncture wounds.”

  Chloe patted one of the chairs. “All right, Frannie. Let Nurse Chloe take a look.”

  Frannie sat in silence as Chloe pulled on a pair of gloves, then cleaned and inspected the wound. “Alessandro, would you mind getting a flashlight from Sam? I’d like more light on this.”

  Alessandro pulled one from his jacket. “This work?”

  She nodded, then gestured for him to illuminate Frannie’s shin. Chloe reached into her first aid kit and pulled out a headset with magnifying lenses, then palpated the area around the punctures. Alessandro’s stomach twisted each time Chloe’s fingers pressed around the injured area.

  “No idea what did this?”

  “I didn’t look,” she admitted. “I felt something punch holes in my leg, but I was focused on getting up and getting to the truck so I could get out of the rain and mud.”

  “Are you feeling any nausea? Difficulty breathing?”

  When Frannie shook her head, Chloe said, “Numbness?”

  “No.”

  Chloe moved her fingers around the wound, then up and down Frannie’s leg, repeating the question. Each time, Frannie said no. “It’s sore right where I’m bleeding, but that’s it.”

  “When I press right here?”

  Frannie jumped as Chloe’s fingers edged one of the punctures. “That’s sharp. Feels like it’s from the inside, though. Not from your fingers.”

  Alessandro moved closer with the flashlight. “It bled a lot. She’s had a towel on it since it happened.”

  Chloe nodded, but said nothing. She took Frannie’s pulse, then inspected the wound again before digging in the first aid kit for a pair of sterilized tweezers. Carefully, she plucked at one of the holes, then drew a small, blackened lump from Frannie’s shin and dropped it onto a piece of gauze she’d placed on an empty chair. A moment later, Chloe pulled a similar lump from the second wound. She studied both spots again, then cleaned and covered the area.

  “I think if we wash those, we’ll find they’re pieces of glass.”

  “Glass? That’s it?” Relief washed through Alessandro. He hadn’t realized how tense he’d been since he first saw the blood on Frannie’s shin.

  “Probably a broken bottle in the road.” Chloe removed the headset and stood. To Frannie, she said, “Bet you thought a snake got you. Made me wonder for a moment when Alessandro used the word bit.”

  “I wasn’t sure what I fell on.”

  “I’ll clean what I removed to be sure it’s glass. In the meantime, let me know if you have any swelling or pain. I want to avoid infection.” She glanced at Alessandro. “So you know for the future, the venomous snakes on Kilakuru are sea snakes. Nonvenomous ones can cause infection with a bite, but are otherwise harmless. Thankfully, the sea snakes are limited to the water and the beach area. Not the hills. In all my time diving around the island, I’ve only seen two. Both times they were moving away from me. They’ll avoid you at all costs.”

  “Good to know.” He’d rather be embarrassed by the mistake than fear for Frannie’s life.

  Frannie gave Chloe a grateful smile and thanked her for cleaning out the wound, then asked what she could do to help with the kids.

  “They’re putting together a magic show for Father Jacob, so they’re occupied. They’ll be happy to see you in the audience.”

  “I’ll clean the mud off my hands and knees, then join them.” She glanced at Alessandro for the first time since they’d entered the church. “I’ll clean your towel and get it back to you. Thanks for driving me.”

  Before he could tell her he was happy to do it, Frannie turned and headed for the church’s restrooms. The shattered look in her eyes as she spun on her heel cut him to the core.

  “So, how soon do you go home?”

  Alessandro turned to face Chloe, caught off guard by the question. “Home?”

  “Your brother’s getting married, isn’t he? Spending the night in the church reminded me that you have a huge wedding coming up soon.”

  “Oh. Yes. The wedding’s in three weeks.” He wasn’t sure why, but Chloe’s question made him even more agitated with himself for upsetting Frannie. While he’d known it’d be wrong to hold her or kiss her again as he did that night in the dining hall, he didn’t want to leave on a sour note.

  If he were honest with himself, he didn’t want to leave at all. Chloe’s mention of home had made him think of the shelter, not Sarcaccia.

  “It’s going to be a long flight.”

  “Halfway around the world.” He rubbed a hand over his head. “I’m going early so I can attend family events beforehand. There’s a rehearsal for the ceremony, then my parents plan to host Emily Sinclair and her parents at the palace the night before the wedding. The whole family will be there.”

  Chloe repacked her first aid kit, then carefully picked up the gauze containing the fragments she’d removed from Frannie’s knee. “I saw coverage of your brother Stefano’s wedding on Australian television. Looked like quite the affair. Is Prince Vittorio getting married in the same cathedral?”

  “With all the pomp and circumstance. My parents wouldn’t have it any other way for the country’s crown prince.”

  She gave him a buoyant smile. “You’ll have to take a lot of photos. Or bring back a newspaper for us.”

  “I can do that.”

  Chloe angled her thumb toward the community room, where the kids’ voices rose in volume. “Sounds like the magic show is about to begin. Should be good. The rain and wind make for great sound effects.”

  She snapped the lid on the kit, then tucked it under her arm as they walked out of the choir room. “I have to say, I’m jealous. I love it here on Kilakuru, but the chance to attend a royal wedding or spend a few nights partying in the civilized world sounds divine. Especially your parties.”

  He wanted to tell Chloe that his parties weren’t all they were cracked up to be, but suspected her response would be a well-deserved mocking. He’d had fun. Years of decadent, raging fun. But in the face of Frannie’s disappointment—and the bottle of Scotch still in his backpack—partying was the last thing that appealed to him.

  He hoped that, eventually, Frannie would understand about the Scotch and would forgive him. But he doubted it’d happen before his time on Kilakuru ended.

  Chapter 19

  Twenty-four hours later, the high-pitched trill of a phone sent a round of cheers through the community room.

  Father Jacob passed his bingo card to Remy, then rose from the table and hurried to his office to answer the phone.

  Alessandro glanced across the room at Frannie, whose gaze tracked the priest. Though she maintained her usual competent, cheery demeanor, she hadn’t spoken to Alessandro once since their arrival. It was as if he’d been cast from the sunshine into the shadow. Though Frannie’s slight was so subtle no one else had noticed, the chill went clear to his bones.

  He checked his bingo card as the next number was called out. No luck.

  Yesterday afternoon and evening saw the entire island buffeted by deafening winds before the rain finally stopped in the wee hours of the morning. After this morning’s breakfast, Father Jacob and Sam took a walk around the premises. They reported that two rain gutters and a downspout on the back of the church had been knocked down and that the rear yard was full of debris, but otherwise the property came through the storm unscathed.

  To the kids’ disappointment, Frannie announced that they were staying put at the church until she received an all-
clear from the police.

  “There could be electrical lines and trees blocking the roads,” she’d explained to the kids over lunch. “Or the roads could be unstable due to the runoff. We’re going to wait until we know it’s safe. The minute we’re good to go, we’ll coordinate with the other evacuation groups and carpool home.”

  The news cheered the kids, as did the first rays of bright sunshine that broke through the clouds to illuminate the room at the same time Frannie announced the bingo game.

  Alessandro’s mood, however, shifted from gray to black. The only thing keeping him from confessing all to Frannie was the sight of Naomi with a bingo card in front of her, carefully studying her squares as Chloe called out each letter and number combination.

  What he wouldn’t give to hear Naomi shout, “Bingo!”

  If he told Frannie why he had the bottle, she’d understand. But given Naomi’s delicate emotional state, he couldn’t risk breaking his word. It’d taken months for Naomi to speak. She’d continued to speak now and then when they were alone. Then, two days ago, she’d finally smiled at Frannie. He suspected she’d feel comfortable enough to speak to Frannie, and maybe to others, in the coming weeks.

  How would Naomi react if she discovered Alessandro told Frannie that she’d spoken to him? Or that she’d taken the Scotch? Would her trust be broken? Would it set back the progress she’d made?

  He had no way of knowing.

  A moment later, Father Jacob returned to the room and waved for Frannie to come to the phone.

  “What’s the news, Father?” Sam asked after Frannie disappeared into the office.

  “That was the chief of police. He says electricity is still out on the entire island. There are quite a few trees down, some carports with their roofs blown off, and minor damage to the marina, but no serious injuries. People took the storm seriously and stayed inside.”

 

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