Page 87 of Sinful Escape

Chapter Nineteen

The following four days were a juggling act between shuffling guests from one place to the next, avoiding alone time with Roman, and answering texts from Zali that alternated between ‘Are you okay?’ and ‘Snap out of it, sister; you’ve done nothing wrong,’ to ‘You’re a sexy, single young woman who deserves to be fucked 69 ways to the moon and back.’

Luckily for me, I hadn’t had too much time to stew over my conflicting emotions. Since we’d left Monte Carlo, we’d been to the Leaning Tower of Pisa. In Florence, we’d visited Galleria dell ’Accademia to marvel at Michelangelo’s giant naked statue of David, and we’d crossed the Ponte Vecchio bridge where, for the first time ever, I bought a trinket from the overpriced jumble of shops.

In Rome, we did the half-day tour of the morbidly fascinating catacombs and bone church, strolled around the Colosseum and surrounding ruins, and ate freshly made pasta from one of the dozens of cute restaurants dotted along a cobblestoned street. We had a gondola ride in Venice complete with Valentine, one of our gondoliers, singing a surprisingly spectacular rendition of “That’s Amore” that had all the ladies giggling and the men rolling their eyes.

Finally, we hopped aboard the bus again for an early morning drive to Austria.

I’d taken to sitting in amongst the passengers to chat with them about each city we visited, and I was pretty sure Roman knew I was dodging him. Each of the sixteen times he’d asked me if I was okay, I’d given him the same response . . . yes, of course.

But I wasn’t okay. I was far from it.

What I’d done with Oscar had changed me, and I couldn’t decide if it was for the better or worse. Our sexual encounter had been absolutely amazing, there was no denying that, but it was what had happened afterward that screwed with my brain.

Oscar had gotten what he wanted and then cast me aside.

The problem was, I’d gotten what I wanted too—sexual gratification. I’d gone looking for it and I received it. I’d also had two of the most amazing orgasms of my life. But given my limited experience, that wasn’t such a grand statement.

Yet, my mind wouldn’t let go of how my night with Oscar had ended.

It was like I’d expected more. Flowers. Chocolates. His phone number. I had no idea what the ‘more’ was. But I felt hollow and couldn’t figure out why.

Recognizing the road Roman turned the bus into, I excused myself from the seat beside Claudette and stood.

With the microphone on, I held it to my lips. “Okay, party animals, who’s ready to work off those lunchtime calories?”

There were as many affirmations as there were groans from the passengers.

“Our next adventure is hiking along the Liechtensteinklamm alpine gorge. Pop on your walking shoes and grab a water bottle and your camera. Everything else can stay on board with Roman.”

As people began shuffling about, changing their shoes, fiddling with packs, I continued talking. “This is the longest and deepest wild-water ravine in the Alps. The chasm was carved out during the last Ice Age and is named after Johann II, Prince of Liechtenstein, who donated a bucket-load of money to complete the walkways in 1876. You can explore on your own, and I suggest walking all the way to the waterfall at the end—it’s magnificent. I’m not going to tell you anymore; this place speaks for itself.”

“Thank God. Thought she’d never shut up.”

I cocked my head at Warren, and he snapped his eyes away.

His point was taken though. I’d barely shut up in four days. My tortured conscience was torturing everyone else too. I made my way to the front of the bus and hooked up the microphone, and as I sat, Roman eased the bus into the designated parking bay.

I glanced at him and when he met my gaze the disappointment in his eyes had tendrils of guilt inching up my spine.

Everybody but Roman piled off the bus, and I led the group the short distance to the walkway entrance. I paid for our tickets and gathered them together, requesting their attention. “Okay, listen up, I need you all back on board in one hour, forty-five minutes.” I checked my watch. “So that’s quarter to four. Don’t be late.”

I handed out the tickets and the American men stormed on ahead. After everyone had headed off, I was in two minds over whether to explore the gorge again or sit with Roman.

Deciding I wasn’t ready to explain my tumbling thoughts, I stepped onto the narrow walkway and prayed the pristine scenery would give me some clarity. Legend had it that the springs beneath the gorge had healing powers. For the next ninety minutes, I hoped osmosis would infuse those powers into me.

The path had been attached to the rock wall by incredibly talented engineers, but its age meant it required constant checking by geologists. On my first visit here, I had taken every step carefully, and the hovering walkway that clung precariously over the gorge made my stomach do flips. Not anymore though, I stepped onto the elevated platform with confidence, ready to purge my blackened conscience.

Below me, the fast-flowing water was an intriguing teal color, like it had flowed right off a glacier. The raging water was flanked by vertical cliffs that soared one thousand feet high. Sunlight struggled to enter the gorge, and in some places, it was almost impossible to see.

The walkway curved around corners, over bridges, and through tunnels that’d been carved into the rock. Faint mist drifting up from the torrent gave me a wonderful mystical feeling, and I breathed in deep, cleansing my mind and soul.

My thoughts floated to my current turmoil and why it affected me so much.

Oscar and I were both consenting adults. I’d gone to his room with every intention of getting my clothes off. We didn’t even get that far, but there was no denying how incredible the sex had been.

So, what was my problem?

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