Page 73 of Chasing Caine

Bodyguard One—boots squelching from wading into the water to help load us in—hopped onto the platform and held the boat in place. Antonio donned our packs and picked me up.

“I can walk,” I said, as Bodyguard Two, the helmsman, took me from Antonio. He smelled fresh, like sea air and coconuts, and was exceptionally firm.

Antonio climbed out of the boat and accepted me into his arms. “I’d rather carry you a few more minutes, bella.”

His eyes were soft, shutting down any argument. I wrapped my arm around his shoulders and resisted tucking my head against his neck. One more failure. He kissed my temple and I closed my eyes. At least I had him with me.

Find your center, Sam. Calm. Relax. Breathe. The ankle will be fine. You’ll never see these guys again. Don’t worry if they think you’re weak.

Pasquale gestured to curving pale wood stairs leading up to the main deck. “The sick bay is up this way.”

There was a matching staircase on the port side. Between the two staircases hung the ship’s name in large golden letters,Five Sunflowers, and its port of registration below, Valetta. The name didn’t match the menace of the ship’s appearance.

Bodyguards One and Two followed closely behind us along the deck, between the railing and tall windows, which provided a view into a lounge area. Ornate rugs, long couches, chairs, a piano. And artwork on every wall. That room matched the name.

I inclined my head toward the windows so Antonio could catch a glimpse.

He asked, “Are you an art collector, Signor Fiori?”

“I am.” Pasquale glanced over his shoulder as he opened a heavy metal door and stepped inside the ship. “Once your girlfriend’s in the sick bay, I can give you a tour.”

My arm clenched around Antonio and I gave him a warning look. My gut told me there was something menacing about this place. Separating was another poor choice.

“Don’t worry, bella,” Antonio said, turning sideways to move through the door slowly, my feet going first. “I’m sure you won’t be long.”

“Dr. Ivan’s the best,” said Bodyguard Two, weighed down on one side by a heavy duffel in his hand. “He stitched me back up after—”

Bodyguard One nudged him, imperceptible if I hadn’t been looking right at them over Antonio’s shoulder.

The interior was opulent. Beige linen walls, dark wood framing, and pot lights lining the edge of the hallway into a library. One wall was all window, the other all books. And more artwork. A woman in shorts and a short-sleeve shirt was dusting the bookshelf. At our approach, she stopped what she was doing and came to ease, nodding at us.

Pasquale opened a wood-paneled door into a small room that looked almost like a bedroom. Twin bed at the center of the room, desk and chair to one side, cabinets all around. Only one small window.

The man sitting at the desk stood. He was tall and fit, not like the creepy guys following us, but lean with broad shoulders, as though he swam a lot. He wore similar navy shorts and light blue shirt as the cleaning woman. Dark blond hair cropped short with kind hazel eyes which settled on me.

Pasquale said, “This is Dr. Ivan Hayle, our physician.”

Antonio stiffened. What was that about?

“My patient?” the doctor asked in heavily accented Italian.

“Maybe I should stay with her.” Antonio stood just inside the doorway to the sick bay, unmoving.

“She’ll be fine with Dr. Ivan.” Pasquale gestured to the bed. “I’d like to discuss some of my artwork with a Ferraro, to be honest.”

Dr. Ivan put a hand on Antonio’s arm. “I promise I’ll return her in better condition than you’re leaving her.”

Antonio lowered me onto the bed slowly, whispering, “Do you want me to stay?”

I looked from him to the doctor, to Pasquale and the bodyguards. Was I overreacting? What was I worried about? That they were going to kidnap us? Kill us? I was being ridiculous. There was no fear in the cleaning woman’s eyes. Despite the bodyguards' near silence, one of them attempted to calm my worries. And the doctor’s face seemed kind.

It was my injury, the lack of control and strength. The inability to run, if needed, always threw me off.

I cupped Antonio’s cheek, still so close to mine. “Don’t worry. The doctor will confirm my ankle’s perfectly alright and we’ll be on our way in no time.”

He pressed his lips to my forehead, then took my hand to kiss it, as well. “I love you, bella.”

“Good,” I whispered with a smile.

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