Page 130 of Burning Caine

Exhaling, I covered my face again. “I shouldn’t have called. I’m sorry.”

I hung up before she could get another word in, blinking away tears as I paused the timer on my watch. Why was I even timing it? What was I trying to prove? My phone buzzed with a text message from Sofia. His phone number and address in Naples.

I decided to find the right woman for me. And I think I’ve found her.

He terrified me. No, my feelings for him terrified me. If I gave him my heart, he’d break it.But it was too late. Instead of giving him a chance, I broke it for him.My heart weeps.And his heart had been caught in the crossfire.

I shut the phone off.Because you are perfect for me.Then I turned it on again. And off.

Grabbing my backpack, I swung my legs over the cloisters’ half-wall, into the covered walkway, and made my way toward the exit. Janelle had forgiven me, I’d forgiven Matt, but I couldn’t forgive Antonio. Was Cass right? Was it nothing more than an excuse? Was I running away from him before he could run away from me?

I looked at my watch. The timer was paused on two hours.

What do you look for in love?I’d asked him.

Someone who chooses time with me when they have two hours left, he’d responded.

I started to run.

Chapter 53

Samantha

Theplanelandedatthe small airport, and I jostled for position. I rushed through baggage claim and out the doors to the waiting line of taxis, hiring one and handing over the address.It took an hour through winding streets and highways, my head spinning the whole way. I was exhausted. It had been a long day and a long flight. This was either the smartest thing I’d ever done or the stupidest.

To my right, the bay was clogged with ships of all sizes; to my left, Mount Vesuvius loomed over the city. As we slowed, I put the window down and inhaled the peppery scent of an olive grove on the warm salty air. The car turned a corner into a side street and came to a stop. I paid the driver and asked him to wait for ten minutes, in case.

I approached a tall, narrow metal gate, leading to a stone courtyard and a three-story white stucco villa. The dark wooden doors were open, and a score of windows faced the water. My heart was pounding so hard and my hands shook.

Please, just please.

A familiar-looking man stood in the courtyard, cleaning a motorcycle. Tall and muscular, with broad shoulders and dark hair, but it wasn’t him. As I pushed open the gate, it creaked, and he turned to give me a once-over. His face reminded me of Antonio’s so much. This was the right house.

“Buongiorno, bellisima,” he purred, stalking over to me.

“Is Antonio here?” My nerves were such a jumble, I’d spoken in English.

“Antonio?” He scoffed, in a thick Italian accent. “He doesn’t see the pretty tourists. But I do.” He bit his lip to make his intentions clear. “I’m Mario, his far sexier cousin.”

I stood frozen, backpack over one shoulder, unsure what else to say.

He came closer, tilting his head, taking in every angle of me. Suddenly he paused, pursing his lips. “Un momento…I know this face. You’re his Samantha?”

“I hope so.”

“Good you are here. My cousin talks about you.” He smirked, so much like Antonio’s smile that my heart skipped. “A lot. He has been very boring.”

My breath caught when I heard bare footsteps on the tile inside the doorway. Antonio appeared, in dark gray lounge pants, nothing else, arms folded. No smile, nobellagreeting, and he stopped before he reached the courtyard. The bruise had faded to yellow, but still covered half his cheek. His posture was defensive, but his cousin’s words…Maybe this wasn’t a mistake.

“Mario, leave her alone.”

The cousin winked at me and disappeared into the villa.

“What are you doing here?” Such sorrow in his eyes.

I could have run to him and been done with it, if he still wanted me. But there was so much I had to say. “You remember when you asked what I’d do if I knew I would die the next day? And you told me how sad my answer was?”

His brows knit together. “Sì.”