Page 40 of The Wanted Prince
CHAPTER 15
LAURA
“I’ll try bribing him,” Alessandro was saying.
The man aimed his phone at us, but it wasn’t a phone. I couldn’t tell what it was with the sun in my eyes. He was shouting something loud in Italian. Alessandro squared up to him, but I pulled him back.
“Get your hat on,” I hissed.
“It’s in the car.”
The man waved his not-phone and shouted again. He jerked his head at the road, and I yelled out, dismayed. Our car was peeling out, pluming dust in its wake. I started after it, then stopped with a curse. Alessandro raced past me, up the old steps. He stood at the road’s edge, dust swirling around him, and I watched as his shoulders slumped and he let out a groan.
“Ladri,” said the stranger, then in English, “Thieves.” He held up a tape measure, the retractable kind, then pointed at a tiny shack half-hidden in trees. A net hung outside it, gossamer-fine. “We’re putting, come si dice, leg bands on birds?”
My head spun. “So you’re not, you’re not taking pictures?”
“Ah, pictures, sì!” He pulled out a camera and flipped out the preview screen. Pictures of birds flashed by as he swiped. “Here, it’s a cute one. Pecking my thumb.”
Alessandro came stalking back down the hill. He spotted the camera. “What are you doing?”
“He’s a scientist,” I said. “Out tagging birds.”
“Birds, yes. Uccelli.” He held up the screen. Alessandro smiled at it, but his smile soon faded.
“My phone’s dead,” he said, and held it up. “No signal.”
“Let me try mine.” I felt in my pockets. “Oh, yeah. I left it at the hotel. I’d been on it for days, so I thought— I’m sorry.”
“Not your fault.” Alessandro turned to our rescuer. “Do you have a phone?”
The man stared a moment, then shook his head. “Sorry, no telephone. But there’s a village up that way.” He pointed in the direction the thief had fled. “If you can wait till evening, we’ll give you a ride.”
“Evening, that’s hours. How far is this village?”
“Twenty kilometers, give or take.”
“That’s too far,” I said.
Alessandro looked like he might explode. He bunched up both fists and paced up and down. Then, out of nowhere, he laughed out loud.
“Okay,” he said. “Evening is fine. Might as well have our day at the beach.”
I thought our day might be tense after that, but once Alessandro accepted we were going nowhere, he threw himself into making the most of our lost day. We kicked off our shoes and walked in the surf, letting the waves lap over our feet. When we came to a rocky patch, he lifted me over it, and I squealed in surprise, and then in delight. We came back around three to our vending machine lunch, but the scientists caught us and disapproved of our choices, and shared their sandwiches with us instead. They’d even brought strawberries for dessert, and I blushed when I caught Alessandro watching me eat mine.
“Strawberry lips,” he said, when we were alone again, and kissed me hungrily. I nipped at his lip.
Our scientist saviors were as good as their promise, and they picked us up at sunset and drove us up the road. Alessandro spoke up when the village came in view, a cluster of lights twinkling on the horizon.
“Just drop us here,” he said.
“Here? Are you sure?”
“Yes, it’s a nice night. We could use the walk.”
They let us out, and we cautiously approached the village. Our plan was, I’d run up and call for a taxi, and Alessandro would wait by the road. But it soon became clear it might not be so easy: cars kept whizzing by us, and a lot of foot traffic, people in masks and bright, festive clothing, all of them closing in on the village. Alessandro ducked his head down to hide his face, but we were attracting curious stares. A little kid ran to us and squinted up at our faces, and asked us some question in squeaky Italian.
Alessandro smiled down at him. “Uh… non so? Mi dispiace.”