Page 100 of For Your Eyes Only

I love you.

CHAPTER28

GIA

“So you’re good?” Bianca’s voice is insistent. “You haven’t had any strange visitors?”

“I’m fine, B! I’m sewing, hanging out with Michele… It’s all good.” I hate lying to her, but I don’t want her to worry. She’s too far away to help me anyway.

Glancing towards the window, I remember Andre standing in my door a week ago, his eyes desperate and scary. What would Trip say if he knew Andre came here? Would he care?

Exhaling heavily, I have to stop thinking about it. Trip doesn’t want me, and I have to put him behind me and move on with my life.

“I’m glad Michele is with you. Tell him everyone is asking for him.”

“I will. Is that all you needed?”

“Yeah, I just needed to hear your voice.” Her tone is gentle now. “I miss you, Gia. We all do.”

My lips tighten, and I inhale slowly. “I miss you, too. Tell the girls I said hey.”

“Maybe you can come visit sometime soon?”

“Maybe.”

We say goodbye, and I slide my phone in my pocket. Michele is out, and I’m supposed to be finishing up a dress for the dry cleaner.

It’s a beautiful, gray Prada dress made of nylon gabardine. It’s backless with a halter top and a skinny belt at the waist. The full skirt has been torn at the stitching, and I’m carefully aligning the pleats, reattaching it under the belt, pretending I’m in the fashion house, preparing for fall Fashion Week.

I carry the dress onto the small balcony overlooking the sea. The breeze is in my hair, and as I stitch, the memories flood my mind. For a little while, I was a princess. I wore beautiful clothes and lived in a beautiful place. I made love to a prince.

I think about our first date at that elegant resort. I was so nervous in my fancy Carolina Herrera gown. I’d never worn anything designer. I’d never felt beautiful.

Trip was so handsome in his suit, his hair long and cheeks scruffy. I remember the dimple when he’d smile. He was so naughty. He made me feel so many new things.

Pressing my lips together, I remember his mouth on my inner thighs, between my legs, that orgasm… Oh, God… Will I ever feel that way again? Mist heats my eyes, and I prick my finger with the needle.

“Shit!” I hiss, hooking the needle in the skirt so I can fetch a bandage. “No bleeding on the designer dress.”

I’ve just entered the room when Michele bursts through the door, eyes wide. “He’s been shot!”

My heart jumps, and I quickly place the dress on a chair. “What are you talking about? Who?”

Shuffling noises come from the stairwell, and I hurry to the door. DJ’s face appears, red with strain, and my heart stops when I see the man he’s carrying.

“Trip?” I can barely breathe as I grip the banister. His face is so pale. His eyes are closed, and he looks like he might die. “Oh my God! Bring him inside. Hurry!”

DJ and Michele work together to get him through the door and onto my queen-sized bed near the open window.

“What is he doing here?” My stomach cramps, and I sit beside him, placing my hand on his shoulder.

“I’m okay,” Trip groans as the stocky bouncer adjusts him to a sitting position.

His face is so pale, and with his beard shaved, a sheen of sweat is visible on his upper lip. His hair is a little shorter, but it still curls at his collar, behind his ears. My fingers ache to touch it, and despite it all, my heart burns like I’ve found a long-lost treasure.

I have to grab the reins on that response.

“He’s lucky to be alive,” DJ tells me. “He was shot right in the chest, missed his heart by a fraction.”

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