Wounded Hearts

by Julia Sykes

  As I floated in bliss, one word echoed through my mind: mine.

  Chapter 14

  “It’s so hot,” I complained, wiping a sheen of sweat from my brow with the back of my hand.

  I glanced over at Scott. He was barely perspiring. If anything, his tanned skin seemed to glow golden under the Mediterranean sun.

  I supposed he was probably accustomed to hotter temperatures and much more rigorous exercise. In contrast to his cool appearance, I was trying not to gasp for air, but we’d been walking up a steady incline for almost half an hour in the baking heat.

  “We’ll stop and rest, then,” he offered. “We should have brought water with us. I didn’t realize what a hike this would be.”

  We’d taken the funicular from the harbor up to the main town of Capri, but I’d insisted on walking straight through the bustling shopping district. I wanted to see the natural beauty of the island, not spend my day inside boutiques.

  What I hadn’t realized was just how steep the walk would be. The woman at the tourist information booth had waved us out of town and toward this path, indicating that it was a short walk to Villa Jovis, the ruined palace where the Roman emperor Tiberius used to reside.

  “Oh my god,” I groaned, catching sight of a map at the side of the path. “This says Villa Jovis is another half hour’s walk from here.”

  “We don’t have to go,” Scott offered.

  “No!” I replied vehemently. “I want to see Tiberius’ palace. He’s a fascinating emperor. I’m not going to have come all this way and not see it just because I’m feeling lazy.”

  His brows drew together. “You’re not being lazy. You’re overheated, and you need some water. Come on.” He tugged at my hand, indicating that we should fork off onto a flatter path. “Let’s see if there’s somewhere down here that sells water.”

  “Okay,” I agreed, recognizing that I really was getting dehydrated. I probably resembled a sweaty tomato in this heat, and cooling off could only help my appearance. I hated for Scott to see me like this, but I’d promised myself that I’d see Villa Jovis while I was visiting the Amalfi Coast. It was only our second day in Italy, but I wouldn’t have time to come back to Capri, if I was going to visit all the historical sites I wanted to see.

  “Oh, pretty,” I breathed when we stepped onto the new path. To our right, a lattice fence was covered in magenta flowers. Bright blue flashes of the sea peeked through the gaps as a breeze rustled the blooms.

  “There’s a restaurant up ahead,” Scott pointed out, distracting me. “I bet the view’s better from there. Do you want to get lunch?”

  “Sure,” I agreed easily, suddenly feeling much better now that I was no longer climbing uphill with no end in sight. A little rest before resuming our hike sounded like a great idea.

  We approached the little white-painted restaurant. From a distance, it didn’t look like much, but as we neared, I spotted more of the beautiful magenta flowers growing over the arched entrance. A small sign with the words La Palette indicated the name of the restaurant, but otherwise, it was an understated place.

  “Best view in Capri.” A new male voice jolted me, and I looked up to find a smiling server waving at us from the top of a short flight of stairs.

  “Sounds perfect,” Scott said, taking me by the hand and leading me up the steps.

  I stopped in my tracks when we reached the top. “Wow.”

  Vibrant greenery spilled down the sharp hills below, flowing into the glowing cerulean sea. In the distance to either side of the vista, the rocky cliffs of Capri framed the view. The pastel buildings that made up the town’s cluster of shops splashed the greenery with pale color, and yachts of varying size dotted the harbor.

  Scott tugged at my hand, urging me toward a table at the front of the covered porch. “The view’s just as good here,” he assured me with a smile. “And you’ll be in the shade. You’re looking a little flushed.”

  Flushed was one word for it. I knew my face was probably glowing red.

  “I’m just hot. It’s not sunburn.”

  “I know. I put on your sunscreen,” he reminded me with a sly smile.

  The memory of his hands rubbing my body made me impossibly hotter. I reached into my bag and pulled out the folding fan I’d bought in Sorrento. The lemons hand-painted on the wood were pretty, but the purchase had also proven practical over the last few days. As a Georgia girl, I was used to the heat, but I didn’t spend this much time outside of air-conditioned spaces on a regular basis.

  The porch of La Palette caught the breeze, which helped cool my heated skin. Scott ordered a large bottle of water, and I eagerly gulped half of it down as soon as it arrived.

  “One more, please,” he told the server with a smile. “I’m glad we stopped,” he said to me. “I didn’t realize how thirsty you were. You should have said something.”

  I shrugged. “I didn’t want to be whiny. It was my fault I didn’t buy any water to bring with me. That was on me.”

  He cocked his head at me. “You don’t have to do that, you know.”

  “Do what?”

  “Take responsibility for every little thing. I’ve noticed you do it a lot. It’s okay to lean on me sometimes. It’s okay to ask for help or tell me if you need something.”

  I shifted in my chair. “I guess I’m just used to being responsible for myself.”

  I’m used to being responsible for everyone around me.

  “Didn’t your husband help support you when you needed it?”

  I flinched. “No.”

  I didn’t elaborate.

  Tense silence settled over us, punctuated only when the server came to take our food order. I wasn’t really hungry anymore, but I randomly selected the swordfish. Scott ordered gnocchi and handed the menus to the man with a brief “grazie.”

  His eyes remained fixed on me. “So, what’s the next book about?”

  I blinked at him, surprised at the change of subject. It should have been a relief, but this question was almost as hard as the one about my ex-husband.

  I made a dismissive wave and cut my gaze away from his. “Oh, you know. I have a lot of things in the works. Mostly dark romances and romantic suspense. I even have a vampire romance on the back burner. Lots of projects.”

  “Is that what you usually do? Work on several books at one time?”

  “No, not usually. I like to get into one project and write the whole thing from start to finish. I’m very linear. A total outliner.”

  “So, what’s different this time? Why work on multiple books?”

  I sighed, deciding to give him a ghost of the truth. “Well, I’m not really working much, to be honest. I’m kind of blocked right now. Nothing is flowing, so I’m writing bits of different projects when I can.”

  “Blocked? Like writer’s block?”

  “Yeah. It totally sucks. I can sit at my laptop for hours and not write a single word.”

  “How long have you been blocked?”

  “Since my divorce, okay?” I burst out in a rush of irritation. If there was one thing I hated, it was a man trying to get too involved in my writing. This was my career. I didn’t need a Dom to try to control what I’d built.

  I took a breath.

  That was damage from my marriage. Scott didn’t deserve my ire.

  “Sorry,” I apologized. “I’m just touchy about my lack of productivity right now.”

  He nodded, easily accepting my contrition. “I can understand how it must be hard to keep a schedule for writing when you’re uprooting your whole life. You had to move from England to America and get set up again. I’m sure that adjustment takes time.”

  “It’s not just that,” I admitted. “It’s… Well, it’s hard to write about people falling madly in love when I’m not sure if I even believe in happily ever after. It just doesn’t make sense, you know?” I fell into my familiar rationalization. “Maybe we’re not meant to be monogamous creatures. Maybe there are multiple people out there in the world who
I could share love with at different times in my life. I kind of like that idea: having a lifetime of Great Loves, instead of searching for One True Love.”

  A beat of silence passed as he regarded me intently. “Do you really feel that way?”

  I forced a superficial smile. “It makes a lot more sense, doesn’t it? Who really has fairytale true love? No one. The problem is, I have to sell it for a living. And if you don’t believe in it, it’s hard to write.”

  “What do you want in life, Addison?” His eyes were steady and serious on my face.

  “Oh, you know.” I waved my hand in a show of nonchalance. “To hit the New York Times Bestsellers List.”

  “That’s a goal,” he allowed. “But what do you want in life?”

  My defenses rose, and I leaned away from him. This was exactly what I actively avoided thinking about. The last time I’d thought about my future too deeply, I’d ended up with a bottle of pills in my hand and an emergency phone call to my sister.

  “I’m just focusing on my career right now,” I hedged.

  “Your career can’t be your life. You deserve more than that.” The lines around his eyes deepened, and I realized his career was his life. He was telling me to live the life he couldn’t have.

  But he didn’t understand how these probing questions would make me unravel. In the last months, I’d used travel to avoid the pain. Moving from one place to another was the only way I could continue existing; when faced with the reality of the lonely future that stretched before me, I crumbled.

  Then, I’d met Scott. I willfully avoided thinking about the future when I was with him, because I knew we couldn’t have one. He was the best kind of drug, much better than traveling to distract me from the pointlessness of my existence.

  “I don’t want to talk about this,” I said, my attempt at bravado ruined by the traitorous tears that spilled down my cheeks. I forced a smile and wiped them away. “Have I told you the latest drama in the Romance industry?”

  He took my hand and gave it a gentle squeeze. “No. Why don’t you tell me about it?”

  I drew in a shaky breath, grateful that he’d decided to back off. For a few horrible minutes, the house of cards I’d worked so hard to build had almost come crashing down.

  I clung to Scott’s hand more tightly as I began chattering, falling into the moment with him so I could forget about the mess that was my life. He was exactly the drug I needed right now.

  Chapter 15

  The steep, concrete steps leading down to the Baths of Queen Giovanna were slanted and broken, making for a treacherous path. Wet foliage half-covered the stairs, and I clung to the wooden railing to my right as I descended.

  The trees suddenly thinned out, and the first glimpse of the baths came into view.

  Awe distracted me, and I didn’t look where I was walking. A slick, half-decayed leaf slipped under my heel. My leg went out from under me, and panic shot through my system as the steep drop to the sea loomed.

  Scott’s strong arms caught me before I could tumble over the edge. He hugged me close, steadying me. With my chest pressed against his, I felt both our hearts beating faster.

  “You okay?” he asked, rubbing his hands over my body to check for injuries that weren’t there.

  I let out a shaky laugh. “Yeah. My butt didn’t even hit the ground. Thanks.”

  He finally released me and stepped in front of me. “I’ll go first,” he announced. “Step where I step.”

  I caught his wrist. “But what if you fall?”

  He shot me a crooked smile. “I’m more durable than you are.”

  I opened my mouth to protest, but he silenced me with a quick kiss.

  “Don’t argue. Let me take care of you.”

  Warmth suffused my chest. This was exactly what I’d always craved: to be taken care of. For someone to see to my needs, to protect me. I didn’t always have to be the strong one. Not when I was with Scott.

  I nodded my agreement, and he smiled his satisfaction.

  “Hold on to the railing,” he instructed as he resumed our descent.

  My hand wrapped around the smooth wood, my knuckles nearly white with the strength of my grip. I didn’t allow myself to look at the view until we reached the bottom of the steps.

  My jaw dropped. “It’s so beautiful,” I breathed.

  I’d traveled the world, but this was one of the most breathtaking places I’d ever seen. Clear aqua water filled a deep basin, contained by high, rocky cliffs. They completely encompassed the pool, except for an arched gap at the far side. Through it, the deeper blue of the vast Mediterranean Sea stretched to the horizon. The scene was a study in various hues of blue, the color made all the brighter for the contrast with the cliffs, which glowed golden under the midday sun.

  Scott’s hand captured mine, calling my attention back to him. “Be careful on the rocks,” he warned.

  I noticed then that there wasn’t a sandy beach. Rocks lined the nearly nonexistent shore that was backed by cliffs, the stones worn slick and smooth by the rolling tides.

  The cove was protected enough that there were no waves here, but the water lapped up onto the shore, occasionally splashing high up toward the cliffs.

  We made our way around two couples who were wading in the shallows, but otherwise, we had the pool to ourselves. I couldn’t believe there weren’t more people here. It was gorgeous, but I supposed it wasn’t well-advertised as a tourist destination. The treacherous climb down probably mitigated the number of visitors, as well.

  We set the beach bag I’d brought on a large rock that was high enough to protect our belongings from the surges of water that sprayed up when a boat passed too close to the entrance to the cove. Every few minutes, one appeared through the arched gap in the cliffs, sending wake flowing into the cavern. But the enclosure blocked the sound of rumbling engines, leaving us in a quiet haven.

  The sea was chilly compared to the warmth of the day, and I shivered as we waded out into the water.

  Scott launched himself deeper, immediately immersing his entire body. When he popped back up, he grinned at me.

  “You have to jump in. You’re making it harder on yourself by walking in like that.”

  “But it’s cold,” I shrieked the last word when a surge of wake brought the water up to my navel.

  He laughed. “It’s barely chilly. You’ll adjust as soon as you dip in. It feels good after being out in the heat. Come on.” He lifted his hand above the water, beckoning me.

  Bracing myself, I bent my knees and pushed off the rocks beneath my feet. The shore dropped away sharply, and I immediately bobbed down to my neck.

  “Oh, brrrr,” I complained, maybe a bit dramatically. I really didn’t like being cold.

  Scott chuckled and swam over to me, wrapping his arms around me. “You’ll warm up. Just give it a few seconds.”

  I grasped his shoulders, leaning into his chest. My body began to warm in response to his nearness.

  “I guess it’s not so bad,” I allowed.

  He’d been right: it wasn’t really cold. The contrast with the heated air had made the transition a bit uncomfortable, but I was quickly becoming used to the new temperature. Within minutes, I began to enjoy the cool reprieve from the baking sun.

  He swam out farther, but I hesitated. He turned back to face me.

  “What’s wrong?”

  “I don’t really like when I can’t touch the bottom,” I admitted. “I’ll just stay in the shallow area.”

  “There’s a huge rock over here.” He gestured to the center of the pool. “You can sit on it, and you’ll only be a couple feet under the surface.”

  Childlike excitement rushed through me, obliterating my trepidation. “A mermaid rock?” I asked eagerly, starting to swim toward him.

  “What’s a mermaid rock?” His wide grin and twinkling eyes took my breath away.

  I beamed at him. “You know, a rock for mermaiding. Like Ariel. Or the mermaids from Peter Pan. They’re kind of b
itchy, but they’re so pretty.”

  I reached the rock and lifted myself onto it, folding my legs beside me so I could launch my torso out of the water. It was my The Little Mermaid childhood dream come true.

  “See?” I prompted. “Mermaiding.”

  He propped himself up on the rock, settling in beside me. His hand cupped my cheek, his sparkling gaze studying me with something like awe.

  I shifted under his scrutiny. “What is it?”

  One corner of his lips ticked up in a half-smile. “You’re so innocent.”

  I shook my head. “We’ve covered this before. I’m not. You’ve… Well, you know the things we’ve done together. I’m not innocent.”

  He captured my cheek with his other hand, bracketing my face to still the shaking of my head.

  “You are,” he said softly. His lips curved, his smile indulgent. “I know the things we’ve done. I know you love when I tie you up and finger your ass when I’m deep inside you. But that doesn’t mean you’re not innocent. Hold on to that. Don’t lose it.”

  His eyes clouded over on the last, and I knew dark memories were stirring.

  I might not be his fantasy woman anymore, but impossibly, he still found value in my nature. He still cherished the good parts of me, parts I’d never acknowledged in myself until he held up a mirror to my soul.

  “Why do you do it?” I pressed gently. “Your job. I know it must be hard. That’s not a strong enough word, but I know it’s hard.”

  “To protect people like you,” he said solemnly.

  “How did you decide that was what you wanted to do? How did you decide to risk your life to help keep others safe?” Shame tinged my admission. “I don’t think I could do it. I’m not selfless enough.”

  His fingers threaded into my damp hair. “You’re one of the most selfless people I’ve ever met. Just because you didn’t join the Army doesn’t mean you don’t put others above yourself.”

  “You were in the Army?” I hadn’t known what branch of the military he’d initially joined before becoming a special operator. I didn’t know anything about his career.