Page 78 of Chasing Caine
Her lips tightened, but the bouncing shoulders gave her away. “Oh my god.”
“But in all seriousness, amore, snooping around a man like Fiori will only bring trouble, whether he was somehow involved or not.”
Her eyes darkened for a fraction of a second—the need to challenge everything likely battling against the logical side of her brain. I stood my ground, waiting to see which side won out.
After what felt like an hour, her shoulders relaxed and she let out a long breath. “You’re right. I’ll text Elliot later.”
Every cell in my body rejoiced. For fear a kiss on the cheek would seem condescending, I simply nodded.
She gestured to the side with her head and I moved out of the way. Putting her left foot down on the ground, she took one tentative step. “And my ankle’s doing a lot better today.”
I frowned and cocked a mock-lecturing eyebrow at her. “What happened to the woman who professed honesty and trust were the two most important qualities in a relationship?”
“Very funny.” Her weight returned to the crutches, and she pulled the injured leg up behind her as we continued. “I’m serious. I heal fast.”
“I once sprained an ankle playing football and—”
Another whistle sounded, a different pitch from the children and the basketball game. More urgent, repeating over and over. Accompanied by yelps and cries, and the distinct sound of a man’s voice shouting “Arresto!”
As one, Samantha and I spun to see a man running in our direction with a purse swinging from his hand, two polizia in pursuit. People launched out of his way, he shoved others, but he was still too fast for the officers.
“Samantha!” I reached for her arm to propel her to safety but met empty air.
She’d reacted faster than me, pivoting toward the running man. Dropping one crutch, she choked up on the other like a baseball player and took the man’s legs out from under him. His feet tangled in the crutch as he slammed into the ground, taking her down with him.
I fell to her side, just as the polizia arrived. One put a knee on the thief’s back and placed handcuffs on him, speaking in his ear the whole time. The other knelt next to Samantha and me, asking if she was alright.
Samantha sat on the pavement, still holding her crutch, a ridiculous smile on her face. “That kinda hurt.”
“Foolish woman,” I said, performing a quick inspection. Abrasions on her elbows and knee, but she appeared otherwise fine.
“I know.” She laughed through a grimace. “But at least we caughtsomeonetoday.”
Fierce and stubborn. This woman did not let things go.
Two women jogged up next to us, one of them speaking excitedly in English. “Thank you! Thank you! I mean, grazie! Grazie!”
The first officer dragged the thief to standing and handed the woman her handbag. She smiled briefly, but her attention remained on Samantha, offering more thanks.
“Don’t worry about it.” Samantha waved the women’s proficient thank-yous and offers of compensation off until the police pulled them aside for questions.
People continued to stare as I helped her up, one polite gentleman handing her the second crutch. I gestured to the concrete barrier at the edge of the sidewalk which was low enough for her to lean on. I had to be certain she was alright.
“We still need to get to the Castel.” Her eyes twinkled like they had yesterday morning at the Casa just before she slammed her arm into Umberto’s.
“Bella, I want to check your ankle.”
She shook her head. “I’m fine.”
After the grotto experience, it was clear this was an argument I shouldn’t bother with. A different tack, then. “I know you’ll be fine, but I need a breather after all that excitement.”
“Wimp.” She grinned but walked with me to the barrier and sat atop it, tucking the dress between her thighs like a pair of shorts and propping the crutches up. I knelt in front of her to take a closer look. Her right knee was fine, the left scratched, but not even a drop of blood.
I looked up at her, her eyes cast down on me, and a smile creased her beautiful face.
“It would appear you’re right.” I kissed the barely scratched knee, and she ran a hand along the side of my face. “Nothing for me to do here.”
The day I met the grown-up Samantha Caine, I called my sister, Sofia, and told her I’d met my future wife. Kneeling in front of her, the tenderness flowing between us… it was clear I’d been right all along. It was a good thing I didn’t have anything resembling a ring on me at that moment. Samantha would have rolled her eyes and said I was being ridiculous.