Page 8 of Finding Love

She would rather collapse on the floor than let me touch her. The thought guts me, and I need to step away before I say something I don’t mean.

Being out in the hall lets me breathe easier. I’m not quite as overwhelmed as I am in her presence.

I adore this woman.

I need her like I need air.

Like blood flowing in my veins.

Yet she has no idea who I am to her or what she means to me.

It only takes the nurses a few minutes to bring a wheelchair. Then, with a half dozen guards to keep watch as they escort us, we head to the armored SUV waiting by the loading dock, where linens and other supplies are delivered. Emilia goes along with everything, not saying a word, clutching her bag to her chest like it’s a shield.

I’m not naïve. I wasn’t expecting a happy homecoming.

It doesn’t make any of this easier.

4

EMILIA

This is the most surreal thing I’ve ever experienced, rolling through the gates embedded in gray stone walls, sandwiched between Luca and his sister in the back seat. A handful of flashes go off on the other side of the tinted windows, making me flinch away.

It’s Luca’s attempt at comfort, but his hand he briefly places on my knee makes me flinch harder. “There’s been a lot of media lately,” he explains in a tight voice.

Now I remember what I saw on the news about increased violence and bloodshed between his family and the other one. What was the name again? I can’t remember, and trying to force myself to call up the memory only makes the throbbing ache in my head turn to something closer to pounding that makes my stomach churn. I don’t need to make things worse.

What would those photographers think if they knew I was being driven into the compound against my will? I don’t want this, any of it. My gut tells me Luca was telling the truth when he said this would be the safest place for me. I feel more secure now that I know it won’t be just the two of us. How bizarre is that? I would rather be in a household full of murderers than be alone with one.

But they can’t all be ruthless murderers. Guilia seems like a sweet girl. “Wait and see,” she chirps as our driver takes us down what’s closer to a boulevard than a driveway. “You’ll be feeling better in no time. And when all this war stuff is cleared up, we can go shopping again at Saks.”

The way she says it, it’s obvious she’s trying to jog my memory. When all I can do is offer a weak smile, I see the twinge of pain that etches itself in the lines over the bridge of her nose.

“Neither of you are going anywhere for the time being,” Luca reminds us. I’m sure there are women in this world who would find his commanding, no-nonsense tone sexy. It makes me gag a little.

I’m sure I had to be faking my feelings for him.

As much as he irritates and repulses me, I can imagine our time together wasn’t all a big sacrifice. When he keeps his mouth shut, it’s easy to melt a little in the heat from his strong physical presence. His cologne is spicy and masculine, leaving me resisting the urge to lean closer and indulge in the scent.

To think it’s been hours since my last dose of meds, yet I’m ready to curl up like a kitten and purr in his lap. All this because of a nice cologne and his rock-hard thigh pressed against mine. I won’t stand a chance while medicated. I can only hope he gives me time and space and doesn’t expect things to get physical. I could always fake my symptoms if I needed to—at least he seems respectful of that.

However, right now, I’m not faking it. When we emerge from the tall, stately trees lining both sides of the driveway, the enormous Italianate mansion in front of me is a little blurred. I try to blink it away, only the effect gets worse.

How much longer am I going to be like this? The question makes me grind my teeth against a frustrated whimper.

“What is it?” Luca looms over me, frowning with concern. Is it all pretend? I don’t think so. Then again, my head is about to split open, and there are currently two of him in front of me, so what do I know?

“I’m not feeling very well,” I confess. I’m sure it’s obvious, anyway.

His frown deepens. Dammit, he’s even handsome when he frowns. “I’ll take you straight to our house,” he decides. “You can always see Mama in the morning.”

“She’ll be so disappointed,” Guilia interjects.

“Let her be disappointed,” Luca growls out before one of the guards opens his door and lets a blast of cold air rush over us.

“It’s all right,” I insist. “I can at least say hi.” Because, for one thing, I’m already tired of him deciding what I can and can’t do. It’s obvious he’s used to getting his way and expects nothing else.

For another, the idea of us being alone together in his house makes my stomach twist into knots. I’ll do whatever I can to postpone the inevitable, even with my head in a vice the way it is now.

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