OhDearLord. Definitely not that last one.
I’ll just wait and tell her when I see her. Even though it’s killing me. Because I want to tell her right now.
It’s monumental.
It’s huge.
The sunshine is flooding my bedroom and I’m still in bed. I’m happier than I’ve ever been. And I want to get up to find Dante, but I’m too exhausted at the same time. Stupid concussion. Stupid broken arm. Stupid emotional week.
I wiggle my hips just a little, testing.
And I feel a little sore. Down there. But not too bad.
I play the scene over again in my head. The moonlight was slanting in through the windows of the pool house while the rain pelted the glass and thunder rumbled the ground around us. The mountains of cushions were soft against my back and Dante’s hands were silky and smooth, his body the perfect weight against my own.
It was perfect.
It was as perfect as I ever thought it would be.
I sigh happily.
There is a light knock on my bedroom door, then it opens.
And there is Dante.
“Good morning.” His voice is low and quiet.
My heart skips a beat. He’s casual in jeans and a black t-shirt and he’s carrying a breakfast tray, complete with coffee and a flower.
I smile.
“My hero. I was just thinking how hungry I am, followed immediately by thoughts of how I’m too tired to go to the kitchen.”
Dante shakes his head and sets the tray down on the bed stand, then sits next to me.
“Are you okay?” he asks.
I nod. “My head isn’t spinning anymore and my arm doesn’t hurt all that much. I’m just a little tired.”
He nods seriously and says, “Good. Although I was sort of asking because of last night.”
“Oh.” My cheeks catch on fire. “Um. I’m fine.”
Dante is looking at me seriously.
“I feel like I let the situation get out of control. You were feeling vulnerable because of everything that’s happened. And the rainstorm made it seem a little wild and crazy. And I should have slowed it down. And I didn’t. I’m a guy and sometimes, I don’t think things through. I hope I didn’t screw everything up.”
He’s looking at me worriedly and I can’t even believe the words that are coming out of his mouth. And I tell him so.
“Seriously?” I look at him incredulously. “Dante. I’ve wondered how that moment would feel for years. I wondered if I would feel scared. Or if it would hurt. Or if it would be special. And now I don’t have to wonder anymore. Because it was perfect. And I’m glad it was with you.”
He’s staring at me blankly. Then realization floods his face and it’s once again filled with dismay, just like when he saw me watching him and Elena last night.
“Reece,” he says and his voice is very, very grave. “Please tell me that last night wasn’t your first time. Please.”
I look at him. “Did I forget to mention that part?”
And I know that I did. I remember that once upon a time, I wondered how I should tell him. And then I never did.
Oops.
His head drops into his hands. “Oh my God.”
And I’m confused. Dumbfounded, actually. “Dante, what is wrong with you?”
He looks up at me between his fingers. “Reece, I’m so sorry. If I had known, I would have made sure it was special. It certainly wouldn’t have been in a pool house on lounger cushions.”
And now I’m really confused.
“Dante, it was perfect. The timing, the night, you, it was perfect. It couldn’t have been any more perfect. I wouldn’t change one thing about it.”
“Are you insane?” Dante asks. “Reece, at the very least, you deserved flowers and a soft bed for your first time. I feel horrible. I cheated you.”
“Okay. Well, maybe we can do that another day. And you did not cheat me. Last night was perfect. And I don’t want to hear you apologize again. Seriously. I will remember it forever. There are girls back home whose first time was in the bed of a pick-up truck. Trust me, last night was special.”
Dante looks at me doubtfully.
“I will make it up to you,” he promises.
I shake my head and roll my eyes.
“There is no need,” I assure him. “Seriously. Now, can we change the subject? This is embarrassing me.”
He stares at me for a second, then grabs my hand. “Alright. New subject, but only because I don’t want to embarrass you. Do you want to be my date for the Regatta tonight?”
I pause awkwardly.
“Aren’t you supposed to attend with Elena?” I ask hesitantly. “As her King?”
“Technically, yes,” he told me. “I can walk up there, wave to the crowd and then return to your side. But if you don’t feel comfortable, or if it upsets you, I’ll tell my dad to appoint someone else. I’m sure Gavin would love to do it.”
I smile at that thought. I can just see Gavin hamming it up now for the crowds.
“I’m sure he would too,” I agree. “But it needs to be you. It’s fine. You can wave with her, just as long as that’s all you do with her.”
“Trust me,” Dante tells me. “You have nothing to worry about. I promise.”
“Okay then,” I shrug. “It’s settled. You can wave with Elena and I’ll be your date.”
“Perfect,” he says. “Can I suggest that you rest today? You should take a nap and recuperate. You still haven’t rested enough after the accident and the doctor said you should.”
“I can rest when I’m dead,” I announce as I start to throw the covers back.
Dante rolls his eyes at the stupid old saying and stills my movements with one hand.
“Nice try. Please. Do me this favor. Just stay in bed for this morning. Catch up on emails, do whatever you’d like… as long as it’s from this bed.”
I pause and give him an evil look.
“Can I do whatever I’d like from this bed?”
“Of course you can,” Dante begins and then he realizes my meaning and he grins. “Anything but that,” he tells me. “You need to rest. Do you promise?”
I slump back against the pillows. “Fine,” I pout.
But I’m not really pouting. He wants to take care of me and that makes my heart go pitty-pat.
He leans down and kisses my forehead.
“I’ve got to go into town and do a few things with my father. But Mia will pick you up and bring you to the Regatta. And once I’m done waving at the crowds, I’ll meet up with you. Okay?”
I nod. “Okay. I’ll see you then.”
Dante turns and strides across the bedroom with his confident long steps, but he turns at the door.
“I love you,” he says. And then he smiles and my heart melts.
“I love you, too,” I answer.
And he slips out of the room. I pick at my breakfast for a while and sniff at the flowers that he brought. And I drink the coffee.
Then I curl into my pillow and take a little nap. After the bumps and bruises from this past week, I’m going to need some beauty sleep for tonight.
* * *
I’m super glad that I slept most of the afternoon.
I decide that as I’m jostled about by the crowds overlooking the Bay of Valese. I’m still tired, even though I slept for hours. Even though I’m standing here with the sun on my shoulders surrounded by a festival-like atmosphere and anxious to see Dante. In spite of all of that, I’m still tired.
I’m so lame.
But I’m excited, too. I can’t help it. Everyone around me is excited and their excitement is contagious.
Apparently, the Regatta is a big deal thing here. There are streamers and signs and balloons and street vendors. It’s a huge party and everyone is happy.
Hundreds of boats have signed up for the big race. I can see all of their sails billowing in the breeze as the boats line up for the start. Apparently, the winner gets $10,000 and the annual trophy, wh
ich is a huge sailboat made from crystal.
It’s sitting on a giant pedestal now on the edge of the beach.
I can see it from here, glittering in the sun.
“There’s Dante,” Mia tells me, nudging my arm.
I look and sure enough, there he is.
The Daniella is floating out in the middle of the bay, although it is moving just a little closer to shore. I can hear the metallic sounds of a microphone being tested. And Dante just stepped out onto the deck of the yacht. He’s turned around now, talking to his father.
I look around, at the happy faces, and I’m glad that I’m here. There is a band playing happy music. I can’t understand the words of the songs because they’re singing in Caberran, but the music sounds happy. People are dancing in the streets and a little boy next to me tugs at his mother’s arm until she buys him pink cotton candy from a street vendor. I smile at him and then for some reason, I look past his mom, into the crowd.
And on the edge of everyone, through the sea of strange faces, I see Vincent.
He’s standing alone, observing the festivities.
I shake my head.
“Hey look,” I tell Mia. “It’s Vincent.” She hasn’t heard from him since the night on the boat. He hadn’t even answered any of her texts. And she deserves to know why.
“Jerk!” she snaps, glaring at him. “I’m not wasting my time, Reece.”
I start to say something else, to encourage her to confront him, when another face appears next to Vincent.
A face with white-blond hair and ice-blue eyes.
Nate.
I suck in my breath.
Vincent drops his head to say something in Nate’s ear and it is clear that they are together.
Again.
There is something strange going on here.
My mind immediately starts spinning, trying to fit pieces together. Nate and Vincent. Vincent and Nate. They shouldn’t be together. They have nothing in common. Yet, they must. But what?
My mind spins.
What do they have in common?
What?
The Regatta?
Mia?
Me?
And then my gaze brushes across the Daniella and I know.
Dante.
Of course it’s Dante. They were whispering on the grounds of his estate. They are together now at the Regatta that he is hosting. Vincent is probably who Nate was talking to that day on the beach when I overheard him talking about Dante.
What are they planning?
What the eff are they planning?
I look at Mia and she is staring at them too. And I can see on her face that she is also trying to figure it out.
“What’s going on?” I ask her.
She shakes her head. “I don’t know.”
I look back at them and they are gone now, disappeared into the crowd. And then I catch one glimpse of Vincent’s back. He’s headed down to toward the beach. And before I can think, I start shoving through the crowd to follow him. Mia is close on my heels.
“Excuse me,” I tell people as I shove them. “I’m sorry. Excuse me.”
Vincent doesn’t notice me because he’s still far enough ahead of me.
I wind my way down to the beach and I see Vincent ducking down in a secluded area about fifty yards away.
As I run toward him, I look at the Daniella. Dimitri, Elena and Dante are all on the stern of the ship and I hear Dimitri begin talking into the microphone. Dante and Elena are waving at the crowd.
And I no longer care if Vincent sees me, because I can feel in my heart that something is very, very wrong here.
Vincent bends down, kneeling on his knees in the sand and I see wires in his hands.
Wires.
He looks up and sees me at the same time as I see something small and black in his hands. And it is attached to the wires. He’s alarmed and starts to get up and I whirl around.
“Dante!” I scream. Mia starts screaming too and we’re screaming at the top of our lungs. But so is the rest of the crowd. Everyone is clapping and screaming and whistling and Dante can’t hear us over the rest of them.
I look over my shoulder and Vincent isn’t chasing us.
Weird.
And the look on his face is weird, too. It’s almost happy. And he is messing with the little black thing in his hands.
Everything is in slow motion now.
I turn, screaming for Dante again and this time, his eyes meet mine. He’s standing on the stern of the Daniella and his beautiful blue eyes meet mine.
And then his boat explodes.
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Fire is everywhere in the bay.
The Daniella is in pieces.
Mia and I are screaming and everyone around us is running.
Vincent is gone.
And I have to find Dante.
I run toward the water and plow into it, pushing away a piece of fiberglass that is floating next to me. It’s charred and jagged and I know it’s a piece of Dante’s boat.
I start crying as I plunge into the water and I try to swim but someone is holding onto my foot.
And then they’re pulling my foot.
I turn and find a security guard. He’s pulling me out of the water and telling me that we have to go. We have to go right now.
Apparently, Dante had a security detail assigned to me after all.
I argue and struggle because I have to find Dante.
But the security guard won’t let me go.
“Mia!” I scream. “Find Dante.”
She looks dazed and confused and I know she’s in shock. And so am I. And Dante hasn’t emerged from the water. Neither has his father or Elena.
In my panic to find him, I start fighting against the security guard again. I’m hitting him with my cast and I’m so afraid and hysterical that I don’t feel the pain.
He scoops me up and throws me over his shoulder.
And he carries me away from the water. Away from where Dante must be. He steps over the shattered remains of the crystal Regatta trophy. The tiny pieces glimmer in the sun like jewels.
“You don’t understand,” I cry. “I have to find him. Please. Please put me down.”
But he doesn’t.
I twist around to look behind us and now I don’t see Mia. And I still don’t see Dante. And I can hardly see anything because tears are blurring my vision.
The bay is in shambles. All of the boats that were lined up for the race have caught fire from the explosion and there is mass panic and chaos as some people evacuate and others try to extinguish the flames.
I squeeze my eyes shut and bang my hands uselessly against the security guard’s back. It doesn’t help. He acts like I’m not even there. He just continues to carry me through the crowds and up to the street where a black car is waiting. He speaks into his earpiece and then deposits me into the backseat of the waiting car.
He looks down at me as he’s fastening me into the seatbelt. His eyes are kind and through my panic and confusion, I almost feel badly about hitting him so many times. But he doesn’t seem to mind. Maybe, in all of the chaos and hysteria, he didn’t even notice.
“It will be alright,” he tells me. He slaps the top of the car twice and it speeds away.
And they’re taking me away from Dante.
“Please stop,” I beg the driver. I know from his black suit that he is a member of the security team, too. “I have to hunt for Dante. Please.”
“I can’t, miss,” he tells me, without taking his eyes from the road. “I have orders. This is your evacuation plan.”
Evacuation plan?
I have an evacuation plan?
Through my confusion and tears, I stop and try to think.
“Where are you taking me?” I ask. “Back to Giliberti House?”
The driver shakes his head.
“No. This is a Code Red Evacuation. You are to be taken to a plane immediately. You’ll use the Prime Minister’s private jet and it will fly
you to London. We’ll be at Heathrow in less than four hours.”
“We?” I meet his eyes in the rearview mirror.
“Yes, we. You and I. I have orders to not leave your side until you are with your father.”
I feel numb. This can’t be happening.
“How do I have an evacuation plan?” I ask simply. I can’t think of anything else to ask. This is happening so quickly.
“Everyone close to the Prime Minister has one,” he tells me.
“Where is Dimitri?” I ask. “And Dante? Did you see them? Are they okay?”
“I don’t know, miss.” The security guard averts his eyes and I don’t want to think about what that might mean.
I’m getting frantic again. I stare out the tinted windows of the car and we’re speeding away from the coast, away from the bay, and away from the last place that I’d seen Dante.
“I can’t leave here. Don’t you understand?” I am practically shouting. “I can’t leave Dante.”
“You have to,” the security guard tells me. “You don’t have a choice. It’s not safe here. This is what Dante wants. He approved this plan of action for you.”
“He wanted you to take me away?”
I am shocked. And I sit limply as the security guard nods.
“In the case of an assassination attempt, yes. He approved this plan to remove you from Caberra.”
Assassination.
Attempt.
I am stunned.
Because it happened so quickly, I hadn’t had time to think about it. Vincent tried to assassinate Dimitri. And Dante was with his father. And Nate had to have been in on it. That’s why Nate and Vincent have been together lately. That’s the connection.
That’s who Nate had been talking about on the phone that day.
And this was all about Dimitri.
It wasn’t Dante at all. Dante was collateral damage.
Dante was.
I’m already speaking of him in the past tense.
I gulp.
“Is Dante dead?” I whisper.
The security guard looks at me through the rearview mirror and then looks back at the road.
“I don’t know.”
And then I can’t speak anymore because I am crying. I try to cry quietly so that I don’t get hysterical again. I curl into a ball on the seat and I cry until we pull into the airport hangar.
Dante's Girl (The Paradise Diaries) Page 21
