The lilac people, p.11
When She Falls, page 11
“What else would it be?”
My teeth sink into my bottom lip. “Hell.” It’s hot enough for that to be the case.
There’s a long pause and then a low chuckle. “You really think the world of me.”
With effort, I lift my forehead off my knees and twist my neck to look over my shoulder.
Ras looks back at me. He’s in a low squat, one arm balancing on his left knee while the other is rubbing my back.
I let out a confused groan. “I don’t understand.”
He drops his hand. “Come on. Let’s get you cleaned up and back in bed.”
If there’s an opening to push him away, I miss it. Even my blinking feels sluggish.
He hooks his forearms under my armpits and hauls me up like a rag doll against his freakishly hard chest.
“Jesus, you’re still burning up,” he mutters as he leads me back into the room. I resist the urge to put my feet on top of his own so that he can do the walking for me too.
I’m truly pathetic at the moment.
My gaze scans the bedroom. “Where’s Cleo?” Her bed isn’t made, but the enormous T-shirt with Britney’s face that she sleeps in isn’t there either. Where’s her suitcase?
“Not here.”
“Get me Vale.”
“She’s not here either.”
He turns me around and sits me down on the edge of the bed. His touch on me is firm but gentle.
When I meet his gaze, there’s a graveness to it that makes a shiver of panic creep up my back. “What happened? Are they okay?”
“Vale and Dem left on their honeymoon.”
They were leaving the same day we were supposed to be flying back to New York.
“When?”
“Yesterday.”
An outlandish suspicion starts to build. “And my family?”
“They left yesterday too.”
“They left me here.”
No way.
They wouldn’t.
Ras lets out a sigh and lowers to his haunches in front of me. He wraps his palms over my knees in a reassuring hold. “You’re with me, Gem.”
My chin starts to tremble. I know I should try to keep my emotions in, but my body is so wrung out, I’m incapable of it. “They left me?”
Ras’s gaze is soft as he studies me. “Your father had…important meetings he couldn’t miss.”
“What about Cleo?”
Even if Papà left, she wouldn’t just abandon me here.
“Cleo had to meet some guy.”
“What guy?”
“A marriage prospect, from what I understand.”
I rack my brain for any memory of this. Oh. Ludovico—the stodgy capo Papà promoted recently. He’s been sniffing around Cleo for years. She’s already threatened him once with disembowelment.
Yes, I vaguely recall Mamma mentioning something on the way over here about meeting with him. But was that meeting really so important that they chose to leave without me?
A sob bubbles up.
“Hey, you’ll be okay.” Ras’s palms tighten on my knees. “I promise, I’ll get you all better, all right?” He gets up and comes back a moment later with a tissue. “I’ll go get your meds. You need to take them now.”
I wait until he’s out of the room before I fling myself onto the bed and weep into the pillow.
I’m so weak.
I’m in so much pain.
And my family abandoned me, leaving me with Ras of all people. Ras doesn’t even work for Papà. How did Papà allow this?
After a few minutes, my tears stop, and I sit back up, clutching the bedcover in fear. There’s no way this was Papà’s idea. He would have dragged me on that plane even if I was delirious, which means someone stopped him from doing that.
Vale and Dem.
“Oh God.”
Ras picks that moment to reenter the room. He hands me a little white pill and a glass of cool water.
I glance down at the pill. “What is this?”
“Something to get your temperature down.”
When I stare at it suspiciously, Ras clicks his tongue. “For fuck’s sake, Gemma. What do you think I’d give you?”
“Cyanide.”
“Glad to see you’re feeling better,” he mutters. “If I wanted to kill you, I had plenty of opportunities to do so before you regained consciousness.”
He has a point. I swallow the pill and chase it with more water.
“What did you do to make Papà leave me here?”
“Doctor’s orders.”
“Don’t lie to me.” Papà would not have let a doctor prevent me from leaving.
Ras’s jaw hardens. “We told your father that you were too sick to travel and that we wouldn’t allow you off the property until you’ve been cleared by a medical professional.”
“And Papà agreed?”
“It wasn’t a negotiation.”
I clutch my head with my hands. “No, no, no. I’m screwed. Papà will be furious. There’ll be hell to pay when I get back to New York.”
God, I can’t even imagine the speech I’ll get from Mamma. To make myself such an inconvenience for everyone will rank high on her list of my biggest fuckups in life. And Papà won’t be happy about me being the cause of Vale and Dem telling him what to do.
Shit, shit, shit!
When Ras doesn’t say anything, I tear my gaze off the floor and look at him. He drags his palm over his chin and gives me a look so pregnant with meaning it makes my stomach drop.
“You mean when we get back to New York,” he finally says in a low voice.
“What?”
“I’m taking you back. And I think I’ll stay for a while.”
I wake up in the middle of the night, the darkness so thick it makes me question if all light on Earth was permanently extinguished while I slept. My hands pad over the bed. They’re sticky with sweat. I don’t even know what I’m looking for, but when I don’t find it, I start crying.
The bed dips, and there are suddenly arms around me. “Shh, you’re okay.” Someone’s rubbing the small of my back. “Do you need to throw up?”
“No. I’m scared. It’s so dark—”
A light comes on. For a moment, its appearance is so shocking that it steals my breath.
We’re good. It’s all good.
“Breathe, Gemma.” Warm palms squeeze my shoulders. “It was just a fever dream.” There’s an intentional brush over my forehead. “You’re still a bit hot. But at least you’re not burning up like before.”
That deep, pleasant voice. I know that voice.
I… I think I like that voice.
The strange, muddled thoughts inside my head take a back seat as I try to figure out who’s helping me.
There’s a sense of déjà vu when I find a warm hazel gaze on me.
“Ras,” I breathe.
A wry kind of amusement slips in. “Ah, so she finally recognizes me on the third time.”
“Third time? What?”
“This is the third time you’ve woken up all worked up.” He straightens my pajama top and brushes my hair away from my neck. It’s all so familiar. He’s done that exact thing before.
I suck in a panicked breath.
“Calm down.” A glass of water appears in his hand. “Drink this.”
He watches me follow his instructions, and I watch him back. This is the first time I’ve seen him with his hair untied, and it’s beautiful. Dark-chocolate tresses hang to just over his shoulders in soft waves. He runs his fingers through it, and I have an urge to do the same, just to find out if it’s as soft as it looks.
I glance down at the suddenly empty glass. “I did it?”
His lips curve into a kind smile. The type you give to cute animals and little kids. “Good job.”
Confused. I’m so confused. Has he always smiled like that, or is that new? No, it’s new. It was never like that when he smiled at me before.
I hiccup. “Oh no.”
He brushes more hair out of my face. “What?” he asks softly.
“I hate hiccups.”
“Oh.” A different kind of smile plays over his lips, one he’s trying to hold back. “They are annoying.”
“I hate how I c-can’t speak properly with them.”
“We don’t have to speak. Unless there’s something you really want to say to me.”
The next time he raises his hand to brush my hair back, I clasp it and press his open palm to the side of my face.
Amusement leaves his features, but he doesn’t move his hand.
He doesn’t move at all as I mirror him and cup his cheek with my own hand.
I don’t see him take a single breath as I slide my hand into his hair and run my fingers through it.
My eyes fall shut from the sheer pleasure of it. “So. S-oft.”
He shivers.
I tangle my fingers through that hair while he drags his thumb back and forth over my cheekbone. I’m probably giving him a bunch of knots, but he doesn’t stop me. He just lets me do whatever I want to his beautiful mane.
“Gem?”
“Hmm?”
One slow swipe over my cheek.
“Who did this to you?”
What is he talking about? I should know… It’s on the edge of my consciousness.
I hiccup and take my hand back. A weakness spreads through me, pulling on my eyelids, pulling me down…
“Let’s get you back down. You’re falling asleep.”
Hands appear at my shoulders, a pillow disappears, then reappears, and then I’m being tucked in.
“How did I end up here?” I mumble.
“Beats me.” Lips brush against the shell of my ear. “I’m wondering the same damn thing.”
CHAPTER 12
GEMMA
I suck in a breath, my eyelids popping open. The remnants of my dream ping-pong around my head, disjointed images of fantastical, nonsensical things. Through the window, I see the beginnings of a new day and the glimmer of the sea. I think it’s dawn.
A soft snore travels across the room.
I swivel my eyes to Cleo’s bed and see a large man lying there, cloaked in shadows.
My skin tightens.
Wait a second.
Oh, those dreams… They weren’t… They weren’t…
OH MY FUCKING GOD.
I slide up against the headboard.
Ras’s ankle slips off the mattress. He’s dressed in a pair of pinstriped black slacks and a white undershirt. His jacket and dress shirt are tossed carelessly over a chair by the bed.
Wait, I remember those slacks.
He wore them at Vale’s wedding.
An indescribable mixture of horror, apprehension, and embarrassment solidifies right in the pit of my stomach.
I think I might throw up again, because there’s no way—no way—Ras has been taking care of me since the night of the wedding.
My body breaks out in a sweat. I haul the covers off me, swivel on my butt, and place one unsteady foot on the floor but stop halfway with the other.
What the hell am I wearing?
Definitely not what I was wearing before. I remember the blue pajamas from when Ras straightened them out for me. I thought it was a dream, but at this point, I’m ready to acknowledge that all of my “dreams” are likely part of a nightmarish reality.
Someone changed me out of my clothes, and the only other person in the room is the most likely suspect.
Heat travels in a slow wave up my chest.
Let’s add vulnerability to that mess in my gut, shall we?
I pull back the neck of the random pink T-shirt I brought with me from New York and breathe a sigh of relief when I discover that my bralette is still on. An image of Ras handling my body with those big hands, dragging a calloused thumb over the bralette’s lacy edge, rudely intrudes inside my head and makes my mouth go dry.
My gaze pings back to my…my…nurse? Guard? Caretaker?
My bare toes dig into the plush carpet.
Ras has been taking care of me this whole time.
On his own.
While my family couldn’t even be bothered to stay behind for a few extra days.
My heart constricts.
He doesn’t even like me.
He’s just doing his job. Which currently appears to be making sure I make it home in one piece.
Everything is slowly coming back to me. When he said he was taking me back to New York and was planning on staying there for a while, I think I momentarily passed out.
That actually may have been the trigger for the rest of the mess in my head.
I rub my eyes. I still don’t really understand how any of this happened.
What on earth is Ras going to do in New York?
Is he going on his own? Does he know anyone there besides us? And frankly, doesn’t he have better things to do here or back in Italy?
I try to run my fingers through my hair only for them to get stuck on a knot.
Knots. Hair knots.
A fuzzy memory of touching something soft, something that might be Ras’s hair, finally gets me on my feet.
I need a shower.
Desperately. And not only because of the multiple layers of sweat that have dried on my body.
I need it so that I can attempt to wash away the thick, humiliating knowledge that I was my most vulnerable, deranged self around my enemy.
My gaze coasts over to the man on the other side of the room.
There are bags under his eyes and he looks like a tired mess, and yet he’s still undeniably, irrefutably gorgeous.
If that’s your enemy, maybe you should take a second look at your friends.
I smooth my palms over my abdomen, feeling incredibly flummoxed at the thought.
The bathroom is a mere step away when his voice halts me. “Hey.”
I fold my lips over my teeth. Here we go. But I’m not a coward, so I turn to face him. “Hi.”
Ras yawns and sits up on Cleo’s bed. “How are you feeling?”
Confused.
My gaze follows the smooth lines of his biceps as he reaches behind his head to tie his hair.
“Like I was run over by a truck and brought back from the dead.”
His eyes sweep over my body before he tips his head in the direction of the side table. “Check your temperature.”
I walk over, pick up the ear thermometer, and wait for it to make two beeps before I check the screen. “Ninety-eight.”
Ras frowns. “I have no idea what that means. Read the Celsius.”
“Thirty-six point eight.”
He nods, his profile illuminated by the sun rising on the other side of the window. “Good.” He scrubs his palm against his jaw and yawns again, looking unruffled.
Like it’s perfectly normal for him to wake up in the same room as me.
I grit my teeth, waiting to see which one of us will be the first to point out the absurdity of this situation.
Instead, Ras asks, “Hungry?”
I blink. Are we doing that thing where we pretend nothing out of the ordinary happened?
Okay, I can get on board with that.
“No. I’m going to shower. Maybe you should do the same.”
“You saying I look like I need one?” He arches a brow, a soft grin on his stupidly handsome face.
When I don’t answer because words are difficult to come by at the moment, he huffs a quiet laugh. “I probably do. Didn’t want to leave you until you were on the other side of it.”
Oh God.
I pull on my bottom lip with my teeth and look away. He really has been here the whole time.
Then I remember something. “Did you…take off my clothes?”
“Ah, so you noticed.” He stands and grabs his jacket and shirt.
My cheeks prickle. “Ras—”
“You were soaked with sweat,” he says, glancing at me from under his brows while he adjusts his hair tie. “I couldn’t let you sleep like that. It would have made the nightmares worse.”
I don’t know what to say, so all that comes out is a strained, “Oh.”
He studies me, his hazel eyes shimmering with something guarded. His voice drops lower. “I had to. I was quick.”
Rough hands brushing over my bare skin, nudging my shirt over my breasts. When he sees my lacy bralette, his eyes darken.
“Do you like it?” I breathe, delirious.
He sweeps his thumb beneath the strap over my shoulder and then sighs and jerks his hand away. “Put this on.”
I blink a few times, my face all hot.
That wasn’t a dream either.
Something desperate rises inside of me, and its only intent is to bring us back to safer ground.
Wherever that is, it’s not here. Not in this room. Not in these memories.
“Now you want me to believe you’re capable of being a gentleman?” I ask.
It’s as if the walls suck in a collective breath.
The air stills.
Ras’s eyes flash with hurt before he gives me a withering look that fills my chest with bright, hot shame.
This is better, isn’t it? The voice in my head is feeble.
“You think I’d take advantage of you while you’re sick and unconscious?” His jaw hardens. “You’re unbelievable, you know that?”
Is this how you thank him for what he’s done for you?
I slump against a bedpost. No, this isn’t right. I should apologize.
“The doctor said once your fever’s gone, you’re in the clear. I’m going to arrange our flight.” He crosses the room with jerky steps, irritation emanating off him like a cloud. “Get yourself ready. We’ll be leaving today.”
“Ras—”
The door slams behind him.
I squeeze my eyes shut.
Okay, I earned that.
That man probably has my vomit somewhere on his shirt, and here I am being an asshole before he’s even had a chance to change his clothes.
I’ll need to fix that.
Add it to the never-ending list.
But it’ll have to wait until after that shower. I move to the bathroom. A strip of light from the skylight above bisects the space. I step into it and turn to the mirror.
A gasp escapes me.
My makeup’s gone.
And on my left cheek, there’s a fading bruise.
Five hours later, I’m showered, dressed in clean jean shorts and a button-up blouse, and my things are all packed up in the trunk of Ras’s car.
