Taken by the highest bidder - الصفحة 17

06-12-07, 04:04 PM

المشاركة رقم: 81

المعلومات
الكاتب:	GKarima
اللقب:	عضو راقي

البيانات
التسجيل:	Oct 2006
العضوية:	15026
المشاركات:	10,594
الجنس	أنثى
معدل التقييم:
نقاط التقييم:	2934

االدولة

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كاتب الموضوع : GKarima المنتدى : الارشيف

دعوه لزيارة موضوعي

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"People always wanted to know his secret, and there wasn't a secret to his success. It was just him. His personality. Behind the wheel he was always cool, calm, and unflappable. But he was in*credibly strong. He won because he didn't tire—physically or mentally."

Sam slid up Cristiano's torso, pressed a light kiss to his chin and then his lip. "He taught you to drive?"

"Yes." His lashes flickered down, and then up again. The cor*ner of his mouth lifted in a small, rueful smile. "It's funny. As a driver he was cool and calm, as a father he could be short-tem*pered. I think he resented anyone or anything that took him away from the track."

"He must have traveled a lot."

"He lived to race. He didn't care what he drove, either. He'd race anything—Corvettes, Ferraris, Fls, Champ cars, oval rac*ers, even long distance sports car races."

"Did you ever go with him? On those trips?"

"No. My parents divorced when I was young, and I was sent to boarding school. I hated it. All I wanted to do was race, too. My dream was to someday drive with Dad. To make his team. And then when I was twenty-six I won the French GP and Italia Motors—my father's team—signed me."

"You must have been thrilled,"

He laughed faintly. "Over the moon. But of course I didn't get to race with him right away. I was the third team member, which meant I did a lot of sitting and waiting for my turn. I hated sitting, I'm a Bartolo after all, but a year later, here in Monaco for the Grand Prix, an injury to the second team driver opened up a spot for me. I took second that day, my father took first, and I never had to sit as an alternate again."

"So you helped each other win?"

"Teammates look out for each other. It's what you do,"

Sam heard his voice deepen and she glanced up into his eyes. Cristiano's hazel-green eyes were shadowed with pain.

"I'm sorry Gabby will never know him," he said huskily. "She should have known him. He would have enjoyed her tremendously."

"You said he died just months before she was born."

"Four months before she was born. In October. At the Brazilian Grand Prix."

Sam heard the heartbreak in his voice and it reminded her of the grief she'd seen in his eyes back in Cheshire. And not just grief, but remorse.

Sam chewed on her thumb and looked at Cristiano, studying his thick dark hair, his incredible cheekbones, and the most beautiful mouth in the whole world. "Tell me," she said softly,

"Tell you what?"

"Tell me what hurts."

"You already know my legs hurt."

She pinched his chest, just above his nipple. "I'm not talking about your legs; I'm talking about the other things, the hurt in*side you."

He lifted a hand, smoothed his palm over her hair, letting the curls coil around his fingers. "Sorry, bella.Men don't talk that way."

"Why not?"

"Because it's not—" his eyes briefly glinted, a flash of humor —“masculine."

She smiled wryly and then her smile faded and she leaned closer to his chest, letting her heart beat against his. "Your dad died at the race in Brazil."

"Yes,"

"And it still makes you sad."

"Yes,"

"It was an accident, wasn't it?"

"Yes."

Sam heard the catch in his deep voice and her eyes closed, her hands open on his shoulders. She could feel his pain. She could feel it as strong as anything and she was almost afraid to touch him. To be so close to someone and know how much they hurt.

To know you couldn't save or heal, change or fix. All one could do was listen. And care.

Care. God, she cared. She cared so much she thought she'd die if anything happened to him. For the first time in eight years she felt like a real person again, she felt whole and happy and for the first time since Charles died, she knew she'd have a long, normal life. With Cristiano. With Gabby. Her family.

But she wanted to comfort Cristiano, comfort him the way he'd comforted her and yet she didn't know what to say, didn't understand the racing world, or why anyone would want to race in the first place. Cars terrified her. They were dangerous. Car accidents had taken three people she loved. Cristiano's own fa*ther had died in a race. Cristiano's friend had died practicing for a race,

"I'm glad you don't race anymore," she said, gently stroking his chest. "So glad that's behind you—"

"But it's not." He caught her hand, stilled it on his chest. "I still race. I never retired."

"But you haven't been driving..."

"We're off season but I still drive every day, Sam,"

"I thought you've been going to your office."

"Yes, after I go to the track."

She struggled to free herself but he held on to her wrist. "You never told me."

"You never asked,"

She tugged harder on her wrist. "How could I ask something I didn't know?" she cried.

"But you know who I am! You know what I do. This is how I pay the bills, Sam. I have sponsors, a team, and endorsements—"

"You also have an international driving school."

"Which is something I enjoy and am proud of. But I'm a driver. 1 love to compete."

"Even though racing killed your father?"

Cristiano's brow furrowed. His jaw tensed. He released her and let her roll away. "I am a Bartolo, Sam. I will always be a Bartolo."

She sat up on the side of the bed, her heart racing, hot tears burning the back of her eyes. "And what does that mean?"

"It means I love to drive fast. Cars—engines—speed, it's in my blood. And Gabriela's blood, too. We're the same—" '"No."

"Yes, and you might not like it, but you're going to have to accept it. I''m notCharles. I've never wanted to serve others. All I ever wanted was to race. That's it."

"And be on your dad's team."

06-12-07, 04:10 PM

المشاركة رقم: 82

المعلومات
الكاتب:	GKarima
اللقب:	عضو راقي

البيانات
التسجيل:	Oct 2006
العضوية:	15026
المشاركات:	10,594
الجنس	أنثى
معدل التقييم:
نقاط التقييم:	2934

االدولة

مدونتي

الإتصالات
الحالة:
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كاتب الموضوع : GKarima المنتدى : الارشيف

دعوه لزيارة موضوعي

مكتبة روايات عبق الرومانسية على هيئة كتب Epub

"And I am."

Furious tears stung her eyes. "Even though he's gone?"

"I can still carry on his name—"

"Not if you die in some accident!"

"I've already nearly died in some horrific accident. But I'm not going to quit. I will never quit,"

"You won't have to quit. You'll die first!" And she left the bed*room then, grabbed clothes from the dresser on her way out, de*termined to go elsewhere, sleep elsewhere, determined to escape the fire and fear burning inside her heart,

Sam ended up sleeping in one of the guest rooms, although she didn't actually fall asleep until three. It was late when she woke up, and the villa was quiet.

Going downstairs Sam bumped into Marcelle in the kitchen. "Where is Gabby?" Sam asked, putting the kettle on for tea.

"With Mr. Bartolo."

"Are they in the garden?"

"No, Madame. They're at the AutomobileMonegasque.But should be back in an hour for lunch."

Sam had a cold sick sinking feeling in her gut. "What is the Automobile Monegasque?"

"The track, Madame,"

"Track?

"Um, the facility where Monsieur Practices' Marcelle held her hands up as if on an imaginary steering wheel, "Practices-. -drives."

"Yes, I understand." But Sam didn't. At least she didn't un*derstand why Cristiano was there now, on a Sunday morning, with Gabby in tow. "I just didn't—" She broke off, swallowed her criticism. "Is the facility far from here?"

"No, Madame. Quarter of an hour by car/'

"Can you take me there?"

It was the longest fifteen-minute drive Sam could remember. Marcelle, still buoyant from yesterday's glamorous circus party, was reliving the highlights and Sam nodded when needed, mur*muring appropriate responses even as she struggled to suppress her turbulent emotions.

Relax, she told herself. It's not the end of the world if Cristiano takes Gabriela to the track. Gabriela would probably enjoy watching the action on the racetrack but even then, Sam felt deeply disapproving. Racetracks were no place for children, much less young children Gabby's age.

Marcelle walked Sam through the private entrance reserved for drivers and crew, escorted her down to the track and pointed out a white car as it zoomed by.

"There they are," Marcelle said. "That's an Italia Motors car, you can tell by the insignia, and the number—that's Monsieur's number."

Sam nodded distractedly, looking around for Gabby. "But where's Gabriela? Who's watching her?"

"Oh. Madame, not to worry. She's with Monsieur."

"With Cristiano?"

"Oui,Madame. In the car."

It might have only been five minutes before Cristiano pulled into the pit and opened the door, allowing Gabby to scamper out, but for Sam it was a lifetime.

Every possible thought went through her head, every possi*ble emotion swept her, and every possible scenario had played out . Heart in her throat, Sam watched them approach. How could he do it? How could he be so stupid? So selfish? How could he put Gabby in the car with him?

Gabby spotting Sam, shouted her name and waved. Cristiano smiled, let Gabby's hand go so she could race to Sam's side.

Shaking, Sam grabbed blindly for Gabriela, settled her arms around Gabby's neck and shoulders. "How could you do that?" Sam demanded once Cristiano was at her side. "How could you do something like that?"

Cristiano hesitated, his smile fading. "I just took her for a drive—"

"But not at 200 mph!"

"I wasn't going 200 mph. I wasn't even going over 100."

Sam's legs felt as though they were going to give out. "Where was she sitting?"

"In my lap."

“Lap"

Gabby twisted away, looked up at Sam. "He was teaching me to drive."

Sam wanted to laugh, she felt nearly hysterical. "Oh, that's just marvelous. Gabby turns five yesterday so now it's time to teach her to drive?"

"It's not the first time, Sam," Gabby answered seriously, "I like driving."

"Not the first time?" Sam crouched down, looked Gabby in the eye. "What do you mean this isn't the first time?"

"It's not. I come here with Cristiano before school some*times."

"Sam," Cristiano said. "Let's not put her in the middle of this."

"Not put her in the middle? Cristiano, you've already put her in the middle! You've been sneaking her to the track—"

"There's been no sneaking. I don't sneak around. This is my life. This is what I do."

"But a child!"Sam couldn't believe it, couldn't accept it. "Cristiano, you've pushed it too far. You've behaved recklessly, thoughtlessly—"

"Marcelle," Cristiano shouted to the young woman where she stood by the wall. "Would you mind taking Gabby home for lunch?"

"No problem, Monsieur," Marcelle hurried toward them, swept Gabby into her arms and dashed away,

Sam waited for Marcelle and Gabby to disappear before con*tinuing- "You can take risks with your life but you've no right to take risks with hers."

"I'm very careful with her, Sam. I don't drive fast when she's in the car, but driving, racing, it's part of her, Sam, part of who she is and who her father was—who her brotheris."

"No more. You can't bring her here anymore. You can't take her in your car—"

"I've spent five years trying to get her back."

"Not very hard it seems. Where were you when she was born? Where were you when she was one?"

"I was in a hospital, Sam. I was hurt, and learning to walk again. And yes, it was a driving accident that burned me, and yes, it was a driving accident that killed my father, but I'm here now and I'm not going away."

06-12-07, 04:11 PM

المشاركة رقم: 83

المعلومات
الكاتب:	GKarima
اللقب:	عضو راقي

البيانات
التسجيل:	Oct 2006
العضوية:	15026
المشاركات:	10,594
الجنس	أنثى
معدل التقييم:
نقاط التقييم:	2934

االدولة

مدونتي

الإتصالات
الحالة:
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كاتب الموضوع : GKarima المنتدى : الارشيف

دعوه لزيارة موضوعي

مكتبة روايات عبق الرومانسية على هيئة كتب Epub

"How can you say that? You could be killed in two weeks in Australia, and if not Australia, then Malaysia after!"

He was silent, his features hard, defiant. "You can't change me, Sam. You can accept me but you can't change me."

"Well, I can't accept you. I can't accept you'd risk every*thing—me, Gabby, your future—for a sport!"

"It's not a sport, it's my career."

"Your career?'

"And just how strongly do you feel about this, Sam?" His voice had dropped, become ice-cold.

She felt the distance yawn between them, the distance greater now than it'd ever been.

Sam was too upset, too angry too heartsick to even cry. It had all come down to this. The worries, the fears, the anxiety had been building in her since she discovered just what it was he did profes*sionally, but it was about to explode out now. "I'm not...I can't..."

"Can't what?" he demanded, voice clipped.

"Do this,"

"Do what? Live with me? Love me? Accept me? What?"

Her eyes burned. Her chest burned. She burned all the way through and she could only imagine the agony Cristiano felt when his body really was on fire. "All of the above,"

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

Cristiano stared at her, hearing the words she said but unable to believe it. "Do you even know what you're saying, Sam?"

Paling, she nodded. "I know I can't live worrying about you every time you get behind the wheel of a car,"

"Then don't worry. I've been driving since I was eleven. Won my first kart race at thirteen. Sam, I've made mistakes, some I have to live with forever, but I'm not reckless."

She didn't say anything for a long moment, just stared at him with those blue eyes, anxiously pushing loose hair back from her face. "Why hasn't Gabby ever told me you've brought her to the track? Gabby tells me everything. Why didn't she tell me that?"

That's when Cristiano knew they'd turned a corner, headed a direction that might take them places they hadn't ever wanted to go. "I asked her not to."
How quickly her stormy blue gaze turned cold. "Why?"

"Because I told her you were afraid of cars and it might scare you, and I didn't want to upset you."

"And telling a five-year-old to cover the truth—essentiallyto me—wouldn't upset me?"

He was angry, too. Angry and tired. He'd slept like crap last night, his gut in knots, heart heavy. He didn't want to fight. He hated fights. All he wanted today was to have things better, "I thought your fear was irrational," he said finally, wearily.

"Irrational?" Sam's jaw jutted furiously, "I've lost everyone

I've loved in car accidents, and you have the gall to say it's irra*tional?"

'Tm not your parents, and I'm not Charles—"

"Cristiano! Have you looked at your legs? Have you seen what racing has done to you? How can you think you've escaped unscathed?"

He laughed, audit was a brutal sound. "I'm well aware of the risk, and the price we pay. But I've accepted it and I deal with it, and if you want a life with me you have to deal with it, too."

Tears filled her eyes. "No. 1 don't have to deal with it. I won't deal with it, I love you, but I can't live like this. It'll destroy me—"

"Because you're letting it destroy you. Make a different choice—"

"Why don't youmake a different choice? Why don't you compromise? Why should I be the one to have to change?"

"Because this is what I love to do more than anything else in the world,"

And that just about said it all, she thought, holding her breath and looking at him.

He did love his cars and racing more than anything else. He loved the danger and the adrenaline. He loved competition. He loved to win.

But he had to also understand how she felt about him, how frightened she was of losing him. He had to know that life would be unbearable for her and for Gabby if something happened to him now.

She turned her head and looked at him, really looked at him for the first time in a long time, taking him in as if trying to re*member. There was so much she loved about him, so much she loved in his face—the shape of, his jaw, the quirk of his mouth, the lips that felt so right on hers...

"I'm sorry, Cristiano." She felt the tears well but she wouldn't let them fall, not today, not this time. She didn't understand this emotion, didn't understand what was making her feel so fierce, so wild, so volatile. Was it love? Hate? Was it something else?

06-12-07, 04:11 PM

المشاركة رقم: 84

المعلومات
الكاتب:	GKarima
اللقب:	عضو راقي

البيانات
التسجيل:	Oct 2006
العضوية:	15026
المشاركات:	10,594
الجنس	أنثى
معدل التقييم:
نقاط التقييم:	2934

االدولة

مدونتي

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كاتب الموضوع : GKarima المنتدى : الارشيف

دعوه لزيارة موضوعي

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She didn't know, and what she did know was that she craved peace. Peace for her heart, peace for her mind. Peace from the chaos rioting inside her. Love, hate, whatever it was—she didn't want it anymore- She just wanted relief, "I've lost my parents in a car accident, Charles in a car accident, and I'm not going to lose you, too. Not that way'

He made a rough, guttural sound in the back of his throat. "No, you'll just lose me another way."

"I don’t want to lose you."

He gave her a long hard look, "Sam, I'm beginning to think you don't even know who I am,"

"I know who you are."

"Then you know what I do."

"How can you love your work more than—"

"Don't even go there. You can't say that. I won't let you."

Maybe he didn't love his work more, but he did love the dan*ger. He lived for the adrenaline rush. He was a risk-taker, a thrill-seeker, a man that thrived on pushing his limits over and over again.

He wanted to be great. Wanted to be famous. He wanted to make a name that equaled—if not eclipsed—his father's. But men be*came famous in one of two ways—they did something death de*fying, or they died. Either way it was dangerous. Either way, those who loved him would suffer and Sam didn't want to suffer any*more. She didn't want to fear, or worry. She didn't want to go to bed alone, or wake up alone, and miss. She was so sick of missing.

Life had to get easier.

It had to get easier.

"I won't give up racing, Sam," he said quietly. "I won't give it up for you, won't give it up for anyone. If you care for me, you accept me for who I am...not for who you want me to be,"

"Fine. Don't give up racing. But I'm not going to another fu*neral, and in your sport—profession—people die. Maybe not every race, but every year, and these aren't old men, Cristiano. They're young. They're twenty-four, twenty-seven, thirty, thirty-four, thirty-seven...they're fathers, brothers, husbands, lovers. They're men just like you."

"Sam, there's risk in everything."

She just shot him a long, disapproving glance. There was risk, and there wasrisk. He was a smart man. He had to know the dif*ference.

"I'll take you back." he said.

She nodded woodenly. That was that then. She exhaled slowly as she walked with him to his car.

They rode in silence as he drove back to Cap Ferrat. As he pulled through the villa's wrought-iron gates, she glanced at him. His jaw was thick, hard, and tight. In front of the villa, he shifted into park, but he didn't turn off the engine.

During the drive she'd stared out the window, not letting her*self think, not letting herself feel, but now that they were here, she was afraid to get out of the car. Afraid of what would hap*pen next. "You're not coming in?"

"No."

"What will you do?"

"Go back to Monte Carlo."

She swallowed the lump in her throat, rubbed her hands to*gether, the friction keeping her distracted long enough to keep herself together. "When will we see you again?"

"We'll have to make arrangements regarding Gabby. I'm not going to lose her, or give her up. We'll just have to share her—"

"No."

"Yes." He made an impatient sound. "Sam, things are going to change. But we have to do what's best for Gabby,"

"And what's best for Gabby?"

"Both of us. Which means, she'll spend part of each week with me. Part with you. When I'm on the road, she'll stay with you, of course."

"We could always spend time with her together."

"I don't see us doing things together. I don't want to try to do things together, not if it's over." He looked at her, expression shuttered, "I tried. Sam, I really did."

She opened the car door, slid out. This was crazy, absolutely crazy. Only yesterday was Gabby's party. Only yesterday everything had been wonderful- Magical, Sam's eyes burned and she drew a quick breath, and then another. “I’ll need a place to stay in Monte Carlo when I'm there with Gabby."

Her voice broke, and she bit ruthlessly into her bottom lip. "Is Johann's villa still available?"

"That place is a dump,"

"I don't mind,"

"I do. I don't want Gabriela there "

Sam closed her eyes, wondering how on earth she'd explain any of this to Gabby. My God. It would break Gabby's heart. "What do we tell her, Cristiano?" Tears fell and she dashed them away with the back of her hand. "She loves you, she loves me, and she loves the idea of us together."

Cristiano looked at her so long, his hazel-green gaze pene*trating; it felt as though he'd pierced his heart "So did I."

He revved the engine, reached for his sunglasses in the center console. ''Stay here at the villa for now. Once I leave for Australia you and Gabby can have the penthouse. I' 11 get a place of my own,"

"And what will I tell her—when you're off traveling for weeks at a time?"

He shrugged. "Tell her what most fathers who travel for busi*ness tell their kids. I'm working." He shifted gears and drove away.

Those first few days after Cristiano left were unreal—hard, hard, heartbreaking, lonely.

She couldn't sleep at night; she couldn't focus during the day. She wanted to call him, wanted to talk to him, wanted more than anything to hear his voice, to have him talk to her, miss her, and love her.

But he didn't call and he didn't reach out to her and it seemed—as difficult as it was to believe—that he really intended for it to be over.

The weeks passed, slowly, very slowly until it had been a month since Cristiano left and by the end of March Sam felt like the walking dead.

The villa on Cap Ferrat was still gorgeous, the gardens still perfectly manicured, the views as breathtaking, but Sam couldn't find pleasure in it anymore. In bed at night, she tossed and turned-

She'd try to sleep but couldn't stop thinking long enough to let sleep come. Some nights she just gave up pretending sleep would come and then she'd leave bed to go out on her balcony. Sitting there, wrapped in a blanket, she'd look at the stars and listen to the ocean and fight tears.

It was crazy, absolutely crazy. Charles and her parents were killed in car accidents and she was so scared of cars, and scared to drive, she hadn't driven a car in years. She didn't even like being a passenger in other people's cars. And yet who did she fall in love with?

06-12-07, 04:12 PM

المشاركة رقم: 85

المعلومات
الكاتب:	GKarima
اللقب:	عضو راقي

البيانات
التسجيل:	Oct 2006
العضوية:	15026
المشاركات:	10,594
الجنس	أنثى
معدل التقييم:
نقاط التقييم:	2934

االدولة

مدونتي

الإتصالات
الحالة:
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كاتب الموضوع : GKarima المنتدى : الارشيف

دعوه لزيارة موضوعي

مكتبة روايات عبق الرومانسية على هيئة كتب Epub

A Grand Prix driver.

Curled in the chair on her balcony, Sam dragged the blanket more tightly around her shoulders, burying her chin in her blan*ket-covered knees.

She couldn't believe she'd given Cristiano an ultimatum.

Worse, she couldn't believe he'd accepted it.

What a fool she was. Not just for giving him an ultimatum, but for missing him as much as she did. Because even now, in late March, she found herself still waiting for his Italia Motors sports car to appear, or the phone to ring and discover it was Cristiano on the line.

But he didn't call her. He didn't communicate directly with her. He sent messages, terse e-mails, conversations and discus*sions through Marcelle who had somehow—and this was per*haps one of the hardest things to swallow—become Gabriela's new nanny.

It was Marcelle who chauffeured Gabby to the parties and playdates that began streaming in once people knew that darling little Gabriela, was actually Gabriela Bartolo.

It was Marcelle who updated Cristiano on Gabby's progress in school and extracurricular activities.

It was Marcelle who advised Cristiano when Gabby seemed tired or a little under the weather.

Sam might resent Cristiano for cutting her so completely out of his life, but she did admire his devotion to Gabby. He called her daily, no matter where he was on the road, as attentive to her now, as when they all lived together. Three weeks ago he was phoning Gabby from Australia, ten days ago it was Malaysia, and now Bahrain.

He was doing well on the road right now, too. He took first in Australia, third in Malaysia and first again in Bahrain. Sam might have a broken heart, but Cristiano was on a roll.

Less than a week later, Cristiano was back in town. She hoped she'd see him, maybe have a chance to talk to him when he col*lected Gabby for the weekend, but she didn't even know he'd been at the villa until Sam saw Marcelle walking Gabby out to the car.

Cristiano didn't linger. He took off once Gabriela was buck*led up and Sam watched the two people she loved best in the world disappear for a weekend together.

She was truly on the outs. And it hurt. And the hurt didn't get better; it was just getting worse,

I'm so lonely, Sam thought. I'm lonely and lost and this is how I felt when Charles died, only no one's died. Cristiano was very much alive—traveling and working and racing and being interviewed on television.

How ironic that she, who hated cars and racing, now watched everything she could about the Grand

Prix.

No, he wasn't dead. He was just moving on with his life, and excluding her from it.

Sam tried to distract herself that weekend while Gabby was with Cristiano. She took walks down to the water, walks into the village, walks through the Rothschild garden and museum.

But the walking didn't stop her from thinking, and it didn't stop her from feeling,

Sam loved Cristiano like mad. She missed him so much she felt shattered inside. It wasn't one thing she missed, it was everything.

She missed the way they talked late at night with the TV turned down low.

She missed the way they used to smile at each other over Gabby's head when she said something particularly funny.

She missed his sexy voice, his even deeper, sexy laugh. She missed the way he touched her low on her back-She missed the way when he hugged her, he'd bring her so close and her insides would flip—eager, responsive, excited. She missed making love—God, she missed making love-She missed the life she'd had with him.. .even if it had been brief. Shaking her head, she tried to chase away the pictures filling her head, pictures of him, and her, and them together, pictures that were tormenting her heart.

If only she hadn't lost so many people in her life. If only she were a different person altogether,

Sam drew a deep breath, battling for her famous British stiff upper lip, the one Cristiano had teased her about, but if only he knew, the lip wasn't very stiff.

The lip, as a matter of fact, was trembling.

Sunday afternoon finally arrived. Gabby should return by din*ner. To pass time Sam tidied Gabby's room, sorted clothes, re*organized toys and then with nothing left to do, headed outside to visit the garden.

Restlessly she wandered around the garden, through flower beds and then past the fountains to the pool.

Taking a seat on one of the chaise lounges at the pool, Sam pulled her knees up against her, propped her chin on her hand and gazed out at the ocean. The sea was still so beautiful here, layers of cobalt-blue and azure-green. She didn't think she'd ever get tired of looking at the water, and as long as she just concentrated on the water, on the tide and the breaking surf, she'd be okay. But the moment she lost focus, the mo*ment she let herself think about her, Gabby, Cristiano—she just lost it.
She loved Cristiano.

And that's all it took for her eyes to fill with tears, and her mind to spin off in futile directions.

She loved Cristiano but he wanted different things than she did. He wanted glory and she just wanted security. Family. Peace.

Closing her eyes, she wouldn't let herself cry. She'd cried far too much this past month. Cristiano's not dead, she told herself, and he’s just away.

And he'll come back. He will. He has to.

Next time she opened her eyes the sun was lower in the sky and alight blanket covered her shoulders. Blinking, disoriented, Sam shifted, stared up straight into Cristiano's shadowed face.

Cristiano?Sam sat up swiftly, knocking the blanket off her in her haste. "What are you doing here?"

"Brought Gabby home,"

"What time is it?"

"Almost six."

"Six?" She put a hand to her head, still dizzy from sitting up so quickly. "That long?"

"You've been asleep since I got here, and we've been back a couple of hours."

Sam stood, busied herself folding the blanket. "Where's Gabby?"

"Playing in her room."

This was so strange, she thought, surreal. She hadn't seen or talked to Cristiano in weeks and weeks and she'd done nothing but miss him and now here he was and they were having a con*versation as if it were the most normal thing in the world.

The fact that they could have a normal conversation made it that much worse.

There was no reason for them not to be together. There was no reason...

Other than the fact that she feared losing him in a violent ac*cident and he refused to acknowledge how difficult, or heart*breaking, such a loss would be for her and Gabby.

"Congratulations on the win in Bahrain," she said now. Hold*ing the blanket against her as she faced him. She was so full of conflicting emotions, emotions that hadn't dulled in the weeks since they said goodbye.