by Karina Halle
“Things are going to change now,” he says, clearing his throat. “For the better. Felisa and Lorenzo are here, not only to help me but to help you and the twins.”
“What?” I ask, confused.
“Lorenzo was in a bad situation in Umbria. He lost the house he was renting and didn’t have enough money to support the two of them. Felisa came back, asking if she could be a nanny again. She said that Lorenzo can cook very well and would help out as the chef. I told them of course they can work here. She is my family, always has been. They will live in your old room now that you are with me.”
“They seriously want to work here?” I ask, feeling another weight rise off my shoulders.
He nods. “Yes. Is that okay with you?”
I rub my lips together. “Of course.”
He reaches out and brushes my hair off my face. “Good. I know it will be a full house, but think of what the time will give you. Now you can follow your dreams and passion . . . and hopefully they won’t lead you away from me.”
“I don’t really know my dreams,” I tell him. “But I know you’re in them.”
“Bene,” he says, smiling softly at me. “Then you are halfway there.”
“And have you thought about your dreams?” I ask him carefully. “Have you decided to race again?”
He shrugs, looking pained. “I do not know. I want to, perhaps even in a lower division, more as a hobby than a career. But I still worry about another accident.”
“But at least now you don’t have to worry about the twins being alone. I’m here. And so are Felisa and Lorenzo.”
“What do you want for me?” he asks quietly.
I give him a soft smile. “I want you to be happy.”
“I already am.” He kisses me again and then we join Felisa and Lorenzo in the living room.
“He told me your good news,” I say to them.
“You don’t mind?” Felisa asks, but there is a twinkle in her eye that tells me they would stay even if I did mind, bossy old thing that she is.
“Not at all,” I say. I won’t have to leave the kids or Derio or Capri, but I’m no longer held back from discovering myself. I look at Derio and smile, big and bright. “I promise I’ll get a job right away.”
He lets out a small laugh. “It’s okay, Amber. Take your time finding out what you want to do. You deserve it and I will support you through it. If you want to show off that green thumb of yours, maybe we can get you on board with one of the local nurseries. If you want to cook, well, maybe you’ll have to fight Lorenzo for that.”
Lorenzo looks over when he hears his name mentioned, but of course he doesn’t understand what was said. Derio quickly translates for him and Lorenzo makes fighting fists. I make the fists back, laughing.
“I don’t know,” Felisa says as she gazes around her. “I’m not even sure if I can measure up to you now. This place is spotless.” She picks up a white couch cushion and turns it over. There is a huge red wine stain there from the other night. I thought I was being clever. How did she know? She must have some super sixth sense for dirt and disorder.
I feel myself flush. “Well, we can’t all be perfect.”
“Ah, but you are perfect for me,” Derio says, circling his free arm around me. He eyes Felisa and Lorenzo and tells them, “If you don’t mind, I’m letting Amber take me to our room.”
Felisa waves at us dismissively, turning her back to us.
Derio pats me on the butt. “Come on, let’s go. I really need to lie down.” I help him up the stairs to our bedroom and he says to me, “By the way, I have more good news for you.”
“What? What could be better than you coming back home?”
“I spoke to someone who works in immigration. They are still going over our case and reviewing the files, but my contact, Federico, seems to think you have a very good chance at having your visa extended indefinitely.”
“Really?” I cry out. I don’t want to get my hopes up over this—it feels like I’m on the verge of winning the lottery—so I keep my squeals inside.
“We won’t know for a few weeks,” he says, “and of course this is just his feeling. But now I have a good feeling about it as well.”
We go inside the room and he shuts the door behind us. I immediately throw myself at him, kissing him hard and deep, on his lips, his beard, his neck, his collarbone. My hands roam up and down his body, softer and thinner now thanks to weeks of being confined to bed and missing his daily workouts, but still strong. Still mine.
“Am I hurting you?” I murmur against his skin as my lips skirt the V-neck of his T-shirt and he lets out a gasp.
“No,” he moans. “You feel like an angel. Don’t stop.”
I pull back and eye his cast on his leg below his long shorts. “Can you stand for this or do you need to lie down?” I start to undo his pants, my hands firmly gripping his erection. I’ve fucking missed him, missed this.
“I’m a strong man,” he jokes, sounding breathless. “Of course I can stand.”
I unzip his shorts and let them fall to the floor before I take his gorgeous cock out. My Italian Stallion. I’m going to make him forget he was ever in the hospital.
I eagerly place him in my wet mouth and start to give him the best head possible. His hands find my hair and make tight fists while he groans loudly.
Suddenly, his hand jerks and he says, “You know, I think I need to lie down. You’re better than I remember.”
I wipe my mouth and grin at him before leading him over to the bed. I carefully push him down onto the thick duvet, his body beautifully bronzed against all the white, and finish him off. He comes hard and fast, spouting off a string of Italian curses, and I take all of him.
While he’s breathing hard, murmuring sweet nothings, I curl up next to him. I rest my head on his chest as he catches his breath and stare out the open balcony doors to the island outside. A butterfly floats past on the fall breeze and I am reminded of what my father said, that I can’t be a butterfly fluttering from flower to flower.
But I think I can be. It’s just that I’ve found my flower. And now I call it home.
EPILOGUE
It is a weekend in November and Derio and I are in Positano on a mini getaway. I have just finished up a bowl of delicious mussels when the waiter brings out Prosecco for us. The sun is close to setting, and though the air brings a bite to it when the light fades, the days are still pleasant and warm.
The Prosecco is for the good news we received this week. Derio has finished editing Racing the Sun a few weeks ago and sent the book to his mother’s old agent. They discussed what to do with the book since it still remains unfinished. Though Derio cleaned it up, he was unable or unwilling to write an ending, not without knowing what his mother intended. Her agent suggested that they actually cut the book by a few chapters to a place that had a bit more closure. It’s still an open ending, but at least at that earlier spot the “Happily Ever After” is more pronounced and the readers can infer what happens next in their own imaginations. It’s possible that Sophia Larosa didn’t even know the ending herself, just that she wanted her characters to be happy.
Derio agreed, and with his permission, the agent sent the book to his mother’s old publisher. Though it wasn’t much of a surprise, they wanted the book and will publish it next year—one more shot for Derio’s mother to have her work out there, where it belongs. The advance and royalties are going straight into a trust fund for Alfonso and Annabella.
Derio has also started racing again, though he’s only training in a lower division, thanks to his injuries. He hopes to compete on occasion, but it will no longer be his career. He feels like his dream has been altered, but in a good way. He’s able to follow his passion on a smaller scale, while still trying to figure out the next direction in his life.
The other good news is that I am officially allowed to stay in Italy for as long as I like, provided Derio and I stay together. And that won’t be a problem. I can’t see myself with anyo
ne else but him. And though I have a lot of questions and curiosities about life, I find the answers now with him by my side.
I work part-time at a nursery that grows organic lemon trees for juice, supplying many of the healthier eateries on Capri and the mainland. It’s fun work and really interesting, and though I don’t know if I’ll be working there forever, I know it’s the first step in the right direction. Working with plants is a lot like being a nanny—there’s a lot of patience and nurturing involved. But Felisa is in charge of that now, and Lorenzo is in charge of the cooking, and our house is starting to resemble an Italian sitcom, but I wouldn’t have it any other way. It really feels like family in the Villa dei Limoni Tristi, even though we all manage to drive each other crazy from time to time.
“Let’s catch the sunset,” Derio says after he has paid. “We may have to race it.”
He takes my hand and we shuffle out of the restaurant and down the boardwalk that cuts along the beach. I realize that we’re at the same place where I first went to meet Felisa, all those months ago. My God, has everything changed since then, and in the most wonderful, surreal way. La dolce vita is entirely true.
We walk along the small dock and Derio hands his iPhone to a couple who are standing close by, asking them if they can please take our photo. I hand my phone to them, too, wanting one of my own, especially since I’m never satisfied with photos on the first try.
We pose at the end of the dock, knowing that the sun is almost gone, and I tickle Derio, trying to get him to smile naturally for the cameras. He always freezes up and doesn’t show off how beautiful he really is.
I tickle his ribs but he’s fast and tickles me back. I yelp and jump out of the way, but my foot hits the edge of the dock and I lose my balance.
Before I know what’s going on, I’m pitching over and landing in the cold sea. Thankfully it’s only about shoulder-high here, but still, I totally go under.
I burst through the surface, my feet finding the bottom, and look up at the dock, spitting out water and wiping the salt from my eyes. Derio is laughing his head off at me while the people on the dock look on in concern. Actually, the woman is concerned but the man is still taking pictures!
“It’s not funny!” I yell at Derio, completely embarrassed. Who the hell would fall in the sea with their clothes on? Well, Amber MacLean would.
But Derio just shakes his head, and before I know what he’s doing, he jumps off the dock, landing with a splash that completely swamps me. My hair is plastered against my head like a wet mop. He swims over and pulls me into him with a wicked look in his eyes. “You think I would let you have all the fun?” He gives me a wet, salty kiss and then looks over at the people on the dock. “Un minuto, per favore,” he says, giving them a wave. Then he grins at me and presses his forehead against mine. “Where you go, I go,” he says. “To the land, to the sea. Always and forever.”
We turn to look at the horizon, just as the sun slips below it.
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
Thanks to my assistant, Stephanie, for being such a good companion, even though she said she hated Italy every five minutes—she’ll say this is true, but I think she secretly loved it—and the fact that she traveled with two huge suitcases . . . but we’ll always have Lady Gaga and the disco cab. Thanks to my editor, Jhanteigh Kupihea, and my publicist at Atria, Ariele Fredman, for totally getting on board with this idea. To my super agent and the cutest girl around, Taylor Haggerty. To Shawna Vitale for being the first to experience Derio. To my parents for putting up with me for ten days at their house in Palm Springs, where I hammered out this book from morning to night. They eventually had to hide the Keurig K-cups from me because they grossly underestimated how much coffee writers need to function. To K.A. Tucker for always being a text away (Canadian authors must stick together!). To Danielle Sanchez for talking me down from great heights. To the Whores and the Kartel for being so badass. To Kelly St-Laurent for always being there. And to my husband, Scott, and my dog, Bruce, for being the best couple of guys a girl can have.
Ciao!
Don't miss Where Sea Meets Sky by Karina Halle, available now from Atria Books.
Josh Miles and Gemma Henare's one-night stand turns into something more when Josh follows Gemma to her native New Zealand and ends up on a road trip that will change both of their lives forever.
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KARINA HALLE is the New York Times bestselling author of Where Sea Meets Sky; The Pact; Love, in English; and other wild and romantic reads. A former travel writer and music journalist, she lives with her husband and her rescue pup on an island off the coast of British Columbia, where she drinks a lot of wine, hikes a lot of trails, and devours a lot of books.
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ALSO BY KARINA HALLE
In publication order by series
STANDALONES
Love, in English
Love, in Spanish
The Pact
Where Sea Meets Sky
THE DIRTY ANGELS TRILOGY
Dirty Angels
Dirty Deeds
THE ARTISTS TRILOGY
Sins and Needles
On Every Street: A Novella
Shooting Scars
Bold Tricks
The Devils Duology
The Devil’s Metal
The Devil’s Reprise
THE EXPERIMENT IN TERROR SERIES
Darkhouse
Red Fox
The Benson
Dead Sky Morning
Lying Season
On Demon Wings
Old Blood
The Dex Files
Into the Hollow
And With Madness Comes the Light
Ashes to Ashes
Dust to Dust
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This book is a work of fiction. Any references to historical events, real people, or real places are used fictitiously. Other names, characters, places, and events are products of the author’s imagination, and any resemblance to actual events or places or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
Copyright © 2015 by Karina Halle
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Cover design by Chelsea McGuckin
Cover photos by Getty Images (Couple on Beach by Walter Zerla; Amalfi Landscape by photom)
Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data
Halle, Karina.
Racing the sun : a novel / Karina Halle. — First edition.
pages ; cm
1. Young women—Fiction. 2. Americans-—Italy—Fiction. 3. Man-woman
relationships—Fiction. I. Title.
PS3608.A548286R33 2015
813’.6—dc23
2015018187
ISBN 978-1-4767-9644-4
ISBN 978-1-4767-9648-2 (ebook)
CONTENTS
Author’s Note
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-One
Chapter Twenty-Two
Chapter Twenty-Three
Epilogue
Acknowledgments
About Karina Halle