I’m clutching the sides of the toilet as I violently heave into the white ceramic bowl.
My skin is crawling, and everything aches. I’m somehow blazing hot and ice cold.
Despite my body’s efforts, barely anything’s coming up. Someone’s holding my hair back. I have no idea who it is. Moments ago, I woke up, my stomach clenched, and I flew off the bed in the general direction of the bathroom. There was no time to even register the time of day, let alone anyone in my vicinity.
It’s Cleo, probably. If it was Mamma, she wouldn’t be this quiet. Every time I’ve ever been sick, she’s made sure to let me know it was my fault.
My knees press painfully against the cold tile floor while my entire body trembles. There’s a vague awareness of having been in this position before. It feels like muscle memory.
What day is it?
My sense of time is all out of whack. Vale’s wedding could have been a week ago, or it could have been yesterday.
I retch again.
No, it was yesterday. I might not be totally aware of my surroundings, but I recognize the bathroom. I’m still in the guesthouse, which means it isn’t time to leave yet.
A wet towel appears in my periphery. I grab it and use it to wipe my mouth, noticing that it smells like cucumbers.
“That’s nice,” I mutter to Cleo, sitting back on my butt and hanging my head between my knees. “Reminds me of the spa at the Ritz.”
“You’ll have to take me there while I’m in New York.”
My eyes fly open. That’s a male’s voice. And not just any male.
Ras.
I must be hallucinating. Am I dying? Am I already dead? I must have gone to hell.
That seems fundamentally unfair. It’s not like I thought I’d get off scot-free given my family, but I didn’t think I’d be judged this harshly.
A sob escapes me. Is this my punishment? Throwing up for eternity while—
“All right, all right. I get it. I’ll go there on my own, no big deal.” A warm palm lands on the center of my back and starts to move in soothing circles.
I blink at the floor, and a tear falls off my eyelash.
“Is this real life?” I ask tentatively.
“What else would it be?”
My teeth sink into my bottom lip. “Hell.” It’s hot enough for that to be the case.
There’s a long pause and then a low chuckle. “You really think the world of me.”
With effort, I lift my forehead off my knees and twist my neck to look over my shoulder.
Ras looks back at me. He’s in a low squat, one arm balancing on his left knee while the other is rubbing my back.
I let out a confused groan. “I don’t understand.”
He drops his hand. “Come on. Let’s get you cleaned up and back in bed.”
If there’s an opening to push him away, I miss it. Even my blinking feels sluggish.
He hooks his forearms under my armpits and hauls me up like a rag doll against his freakishly hard chest.
“Jesus, you’re still burning up,” he mutters as he leads me back into the room. I resist the urge to put my feet on top of his own so that he can do the walking for me too.
I’m truly pathetic at the moment.
My gaze scans the bedroom. “Where’s Cleo?” Her bed isn’t made, but the enormous T-shirt with Britney’s face that she sleeps in isn’t there either. Where’s her suitcase?
“Not here.”
“Get me Vale.”
“She’s not here either.”
He turns me around and sits me down on the edge of the bed. His touch on me is firm but gentle.
When I meet his gaze, there’s a graveness to it that makes a shiver of panic creep up my back. “What happened? Are they okay?”
“Vale and Dem left on their honeymoon.”
They were leaving the same day we were supposed to be flying back to New York.
“When?”
“Yesterday.”
An outlandish suspicion starts to build. “And my family?”
“They left yesterday too.”
“They left me here.”
No way.
They wouldn’t.
Ras lets out a sigh and lowers to his haunches in front of me. He wraps his palms over my knees in a reassuring hold. “You’re with me, Gem.”
My chin starts to tremble. I know I should try to keep my emotions in, but my body is so wrung out, I’m incapable of it. “They left me?”
Ras’s gaze is soft as he studies me. “Your father had…important meetings he couldn’t miss.”
“What about Cleo?”
Even if Papà left, she wouldn’t just abandon me here.
“Cleo had to meet some guy.”
“What guy?”
“A marriage prospect, from what I understand.”
I rack my brain for any memory of this. Oh. Ludovico—the stodgy capo Papà promoted recently. He’s been sniffing around Cleo for years. She’s already threatened him once with disembowelment.
Yes, I vaguely recall Mamma mentioning something on the way over here about meeting with him. But was that meeting really so important that they chose to leave without me?
A sob bubbles up.
“Hey, you’ll be okay.” Ras’s palms tighten on my knees. “I promise, I’ll get you all better, all right?” He gets up and comes back a moment later with a tissue. “I’ll go get your meds. You need to take them now.”
I wait until he’s out of the room before I fling myself onto the bed and weep into the pillow.
I’m so weak.
I’m in so much pain.
And my family abandoned me, leaving me with Ras of all people. Ras doesn’t even work for Papà. How did Papà allow this?
After a few minutes, my tears stop, and I sit back up, clutching the bedcover in fear. There’s no way this was Papà’s idea. He would have dragged me on that plane even if I was delirious, which means someone stopped him from doing that.
Vale and Dem.
“Oh God.”
Ras picks that moment to reenter the room. He hands me a little white pill and a glass of cool water.
I glance down at the pill. “What is this?”
“Something to get your temperature down.”
When I stare at it suspiciously, Ras clicks his tongue. “For fuck’s sake, Gemma. What do you think I’d give you?”
“Cyanide.”
“Glad to see you’re feeling better,” he mutters. “If I wanted to kill you, I had plenty of opportunities to do so before you regained consciousness.”
He has a point. I swallow the pill and chase it with more water.
“What did you do to make Papà leave me here?”
“Doctor’s orders.”
“Don’t lie to me.” Papà would not have let a doctor prevent me from leaving.
Ras’s jaw hardens. “We told your father that you were too sick to travel and that we wouldn’t allow you off the property until you’ve been cleared by a medical professional.”
“And Papà agreed?”
“It wasn’t a negotiation.”
I clutch my head with my hands. “No, no, no. I’m screwed. Papà will be furious. There’ll be hell to pay when I get back to New York.”
God, I can’t even imagine the speech I’ll get from Mamma. To make myself such an inconvenience for everyone will rank high on her list of my biggest fuckups in life. And Papà won’t be happy about me being the cause of Vale and Dem telling him what to do.
Shit, shit, shit!
When Ras doesn’t say anything, I tear my gaze off the floor and look at him. He drags his palm over his chin and gives me a look so pregnant with meaning it makes my stomach drop.
“You mean when we get back to New York,” he finally says in a low voice.
“What?”
“I’m taking you back. And I think I’ll stay for a while.”
I wake up in the middle of the night, the darkness so thick it makes me question if all light on Earth was permanently extinguished while I slept. My hands pad over the bed. They’re sticky with sweat. I don’t even know what I’m looking for, but when I don’t find it, I start crying.
The bed dips, and there are suddenly arms around me. “Shh, you’re okay.” Someone’s rubbing the small of my back. “Do you need to throw up?”
“No. I’m scared. It’s so dark—”
A light comes on. For a moment, its appearance is so shocking that it steals my breath.
We’re good. It’s all good.
“Breathe, Gemma.” Warm palms squeeze my shoulders. “It was just a fever dream.” There’s an intentional brush over my forehead. “You’re still a bit hot. But at least you’re not burning up like before.”
That deep, pleasant voice. I know that voice.
I… I think I like that voice.
The strange, muddled thoughts inside my head take a back seat as I try to figure out who’s helping me.
There’s a sense of déjà vu when I find a warm hazel gaze on at me.
“Ras,” I breathe.
A wry kind of amusement slips in. “Ah, so she finally recognizes me on the third time.”
“Third time? What?”
“This is the third time you’ve woken up all worked up.” He straightens my pajama top and brushes my hair away from my neck. It’s all so familiar. He’s done that exact thing before.
I suck in a panicked breath.
“Calm down.” A glass of water appears in his hand. “Drink this.”
He watches me follow his instructions, and I watch him back. This is the first time I’ve seen him with his hair untied, and it’s beautiful. Dark-chocolate tresses hang to just over his shoulders in soft waves. He runs his fingers through it, and I have an urge to do the same, just to find out if it’s as soft as it looks.
I glance down at the suddenly empty glass. “I did it?”
His lips curve into a kind smile. The type you give to cute animals and little kids. “Good job.”
Confused. I’m so confused. Has he always smiled like that, or is that new? No, it’s new. It was never like that when he smiled at me before.
I hiccup. “Oh no.”
He brushes more hair out of my face. “What?” he asks softly.
“I hate hiccups.”
“Oh.” A different kind of smile plays over his lips, one he’s trying to hold back. “They are annoying.”
“I hate how I c-can’t speak properly with them.”
“We don’t have to speak. Unless there’s something you really want to say to me.”
The next time he raises his hand to brush my hair back, I clasp it and press his open palm to the side of my face.
Amusement leaves his features, but he doesn’t move his hand.
He doesn’t move at all as I mirror him and cup his cheek with my own hand.
I don’t see him take a single breath as I slide my hand into his hair and run my fingers through it.
My eyes fall shut from the sheer pleasure of it. “So. S-oft.”
He shivers.
I tangle my fingers through that hair while he drags his thumb back and forth over my cheekbone. I’m probably giving him a bunch of knots, but he doesn’t stop me. He just lets me do whatever I want to his beautiful mane.
“Gem?”
“Hmm?”
One slow swipe over my cheek.
“Who did this to you?”
What is he talking about? I should know… It’s on the edge of my consciousness.
I hiccup and take my hand back. A weakness spreads through me, pulling on my eyelids, pulling me down…
“Let’s get you back down. You’re falling asleep.”
Hands appear at my shoulders, a pillow disappears, then reappears, and then I’m being tucked in.
“How did I end up here?” I mumble.
“Beats me.” Lips brush against the shell of my ear. “I’m wondering the same damn thing.”
