Page 73 of Thorns of Love
“By the way, we’re Americans,” Isla told them, stealing the words out of my mouth.
The two of us giggled as the door shut behind us with a bell. She looped her hand through mine and we strutted down the sidewalk. Her steps halted and my eyes took in the lingerie store.
My eyes flicked to her then back to the store. “Why are we standing here?”
“Maybe–”
I shook my head, not letting her finish. “No, no. If your brother learned I took you to a lingerie store and you bought shit to seduce Marchetti, it’d be my head.”
She rolled her eyes. “I doubt it. According to the messages I got from my brother, it’ll be my head if anything happens to you.”
A beat skipped in my chest. Warmth erupted in my heart. So many feelings bloomed in my chest. Illias cared enough for me to threaten his sister. His baby sister. The pressure in my chest grew, and I couldn’t wait to see him again.
Just as I opened my mouth, a feeling of being watched slid down my spine. I turned my head and a dark shadow turned his back to me. Familiar broad shoulders. Narrow waist. Muscular ass.
“Is that Nikita?” I asked, narrowing my eyes on the man walking away from us.
“If that was Nikita, he’d kick our asses,” Isla remarked. She was right. And he certainly wouldn’t be walking away from us.
My pulse sped up. It pounded in my throat. Buzzed in my ears.
Lingerie store forgotten, I rushed after the familiar figure.
He flickered a glance over his shoulder, giving me a glimpse of his profile. A tremor rolled through my body. Anxiety brewed in my chest and ran through me like frost in the winter. It swelled in my chest until it became hard to breathe.
I shook my head.No, no, no. It couldn’t be him. Calm down. Breathe, Tatiana.
Inhaling a deep breath, I exhaled it slowly. Then repeated it, and all the while my steps never faltered.
“Tatiana,” Isla called out. “Wait.”
I didn’t stop, my steps picking up speed and my Louboutin heels clicking against the pavement.
The familiar stranger turned the corner and disappeared from my view.
I started running, listening for Isla’s heels behind me.Click. Click. Click.The sound of our heels hitting the sidewalk blended together as I chased the phantom who’d been watching me. I reached the street and turned the corner, then stopped abruptly.
“Jesus, what’s that about?” Isla’s breath was labored as she bent over and put her hands on her knees. “These heels are a bitch to run in.”
She lifted her head, still half bent over, her eyes darting over the dark alley, then back to me.
“What is it?” she asked, still breathing heavily.
My eyes locked on the alley, I started to question myself. The man kept walking, although he wasn’t running.
“Nikita?” I called out. His step never even faltered. No acknowledgment. The guy didn’t even turn to see who called out.
I was just about to call out again when a bus cut off my view of the shadow man. Zoom. I barely blinked my eyes, the bus was gone and so was the man.
Nobody. There was nothing there. Gone just like that.
“Let’s get back to the hotel,” I rasped, staring down the empty street.
“Why?”
I swallowed, dread growing in the pit of my stomach.
Because I might be losing my mind.
