Page 85 of Sinful Promises

He waggled his head. “Walk.”

“Oh, I can walk there? How long does it take?”

A weird smile wobbled across his lips, giving me the impression he was playing with me. “Thirty minutes.”

“Okay.” I can do this. “Where do I start?”

He waved my attention toward the very steep hill ahead of us. “You will see signs.”

I see a sign, all right. A sign that this may be a bloody tough walk.

“Grazie.” Dragging my case behind me, I began my descent down the hill. Thank goodness I was wearing my Del Rey sneakers and not my sexy knee-high boots or I would’ve gone ass over tit within seconds.

The view was stunning and improved with every step. Riomaggiore was the first town on the Cinque Terre walk, and one of the biggest of the five towns. Manarola was the smallest. With each step down the main street toward the ocean, I wanted to pinch myself. I was actually doing this.

I, Daisy Chayne, was stepping waaay out of my comfort zone to chase the man I loved.

And I do love him.

I love him so much my heart aches.

I didn’t even want to think of the consequences should he not be happy to see me. I couldn’t go there. Not now. Not yet. I was here, doing it. If that guard was right, in thirty minutes I’d be in Roman’s little town. Hopefully within an hour of that, I’d have found him.

So, within two hours, Roman and I could be walking along the beach, watching the sun set over the ocean. Oh. My. God. My heart skipped a beat at the lovely visions dancing across my mind.

The air smelled all salty and fresh, but aromas of garlic and melted cheese set my stomach rumbling. Food would have to wait. I was on a mission.

The buildings on either side of the paved street were all four or five stories high, each sharing a wall with the one beside it. The only way to tell them apart was their color. Yellow, orange, pink, green, blue—all pastel shades. The overhead balconies were wrought iron and decorated with pretty vines. Potted plants bursting with colors lined the doorways. I was approaching a restaurant with tiny circular tables and matching twin chairs, and a middle-aged woman in a black dress draped with a white apron was standing in the doorway. She nodded at me as I approached and I nodded back.

“Ciao. Hai fame?”

Yes I was hungry, but I had much more important things to do. “Ciao. Scusa.” Hoping she spoke English, I said, “I can’t stay.” I indicated walking with my fingers. “I have to walk to Manarola. Do you know where the path is?”

She flicked her hand. “You keep walking. You see signs.”

“Sì, grazie.”

Okay, signs. Signs. Where are you, signs?

I dragged my case past more pretty buildings and more cute Italian restaurants, but many of the shops were closed for winter. Three tiny wooden boats painted bright blue were propped up on wooden blocks and filled with colorful plants. A couple walked out of an alley opposite the boats, and I was lucky they did. I was so busy admiring that eye-catching display that I just about walked right past a sign with two pictographs—one showing a stick figure walking and another of a train. Believing this was a sign for me, I dragged my case into the alley and the hard plastic wheels clattered over the pavers and echoed off the stone walls.

At the end of the alley was a large courtyard with little booths dotted about that were all closed up. At the far side of the expanse was the train station. It was dark and deserted. But to the left of the single platform was another sign indicating the start of the Cinque Terre hiking trail.

Yes! Now we’re talking.

Following the arrows, I moved as fast as my feet could drag my suitcase. But when I reached the set of stairs, my brain thudded to a stop.

These weren’t just stairs. They were fucking giant blocks—like something from the Viking ages. The first step alone was as high as my thigh and so narrow I doubted my case would even fit.

What the fuck, people? That is not a frigging hiking trail. That’s an army endurance training ground.

I slumped my ass onto my suitcase and stared up the dark stairs. The handrails on either side snaked into the distance and disappeared. Gnarly tree branches hung over the path, blocking out what was left of daylight, confirming that even if I could drag my case up there, it was so dark I would barely see twenty feet ahead.

I wanted to scream.

Shoving my palms over my eyes until bright sparks shot across my eyelids, I inhaled a deep, calming breath.

“Right, Daisy. Get your shit together.”

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