Total pages in book: 107
Estimated words: 102355 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 512(@200wpm)___ 409(@250wpm)___ 341(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 102355 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 512(@200wpm)___ 409(@250wpm)___ 341(@300wpm)
My lips part. I’m about to make this easy on the both of us, and then instead, I say, “I had a sister. Actually… she’s the reason I’m here for the summer.”
Chapter Fifteen
Cristiano
I’m staring out at the traffic in front of me, concentrating on the road. La carretera de Sant Antoni hasn’t been this crowded all summer, but now that it’s early June, we’ve officially entered high season and the tourists are out in full force. I won’t have a slow night at any of my clubs or restaurants from now until the end of September.
“You’re being quiet,” Juan Carlos notes.
I hmm to let him know I’ve heard him but have nothing to say on the matter.
“Something on your mind?”
I don’t answer.
“You haven’t said much since you and Elle—”
I swerve and slam to a stop on the side of the road, eliciting a cacophony of honks behind me.
“Get out.”
Juan Carlos laughs. “Are you crazy?”
“If you keep asking questions, I’ll make you walk home.”
He holds up his hands. “Got it, cabrón. I’ll shut up.”
I pull back out into traffic more annoyed than I was a few minutes ago.
My cousin—the insufferable ass that he is—only makes it two more streets before he speaks up again. “Going to Aura tonight?”
I flip on my blinker, and Juan Carlos just cracks up. “Jesus, man. Forget I asked.”
No, I’m not going to Aura tonight. I’m going home to take a cold shower, then a cold bath, then a fucking cold plunge. After, I’m going to check on one of my restaurants or clubs. I don’t even care which one, as long as it isn’t Aura. I can’t see Isabel again today. I can’t. She’s burrowed so deep inside me at this point I’m scared shitless.
I have an image of her locked in my head, though not the one from when she was sunbathing on the lounger, not the moment she had her legs spread open on my lap. It was when we were eating lunch on our way back to the dock. She was more sun-kissed than ever, all her midnight-black hair piled in an updo to combat the wind. She’d slipped her cover-up back on and she was laughing with Annika and Simone, her expression so guileless, so achingly sweet, I wanted to reach across the space separating us and claim her with a kiss.
I had no intention of touching her today on my yacht, no plan to seduce her in that pool, but the thought almost makes me laugh, because I wasn’t the seducer. No, that was all Isabel, and fuck… she was the hottest little thing. Watching her overcome her shyness, slip through the water toward me, climb onto my lap. Even now, her turquoise bikini tortures me. I’m so on edge.
I didn’t want to push things too far with her. After she leapt away from me in the pool, she looked startled by what we’d done, and I immediately felt like a jerk. Should I have resisted a little more? Should I not have touched her?
It’s just…
Not as simple as it should be.
She is not simple.
I didn’t know about Winnie. Caterina De Vere never told me about Isabel’s sister. As an only child, I can’t begin to comprehend Isabel’s grief over losing someone that significant—a sister and best friend. Losing Dolores was extremely hard; she was a mother to me, but Dolores was in her seventies and had experienced all the joys and heartaches life had to offer.
Once Isabel mentioned Winnie, I wanted to know everything, so I asked questions. For Isabel it seemed like talking about her sister was a gift. Memories surged to the surface and one story easily led into another.
When we were little…
She always laughed…
We always planned to…
Toward the end…
I watched her explain her sister’s death with a bravery I admired, and then, before I knew it, I’d taken hold of her towel and gently tugged so I could draw her into my arms. I was so relieved when she pressed into me rather than resisting, dropping her cheek against my chest and tilting her face down. I felt her shudder, listened to her quiet sniffle, shared in her pain.
“Shh, Isabel,” I murmured against her temple, soothing her by rubbing her hair while wishing there was something more I could do. I haven’t comforted many friends in heavy moments. The right words failed me and emotion tightened my throat so that even if I had come up with something wise and helpful to say, I’m not sure I would have been able to force it out anyway.
I would have stood there for as long as Isabel wanted me to. She leaned her full weight against me, frozen in her grief, and I held her firmly until she’d calmed and managed a few shaky inhales. She looked up at me, her black lashes damp with unshed tears. I watched her smile and tuck away her emotions, but before they were all packed up and wrapped with a pretty bow, I cradled her face, my eyes looking into hers, imploring her to understand my silence. It will be okay, I promise. Her expression was so resolute, so fierce in her bid to shut me out and regain her strength.