Twisted Fate (Dark Heart 2)

Fuck…she’s shaking. I squeeze her hands, frowning at her face; she’s pale, with red along her nose and cheekbones.

“Rosa…how’s it going?” I ask quietly.

She moves in closer to me, bowing her head against my chest, so her forehead presses against my pec. “I’m okay.”

But her voice sounds weak. I glance around. Seeing no one in our quiet vicinity, I can’t help folding her against me. “What’s the matter?” I rub her back. “Are you sick? Or hurt or upset?”

She feels like she’s shaking, and her body’s rigid even as my hand moves up to cup her nape.

She shakes her head once.

“You feel okay?”

Another glance around, and when it looks all clear, I let myself kiss her hair.“La mia rosa perfetta. Mi Manchi tanto…”

Her hair smells so goddamn good. There’s nothing like having my arms around her. Then her arms coming around my waist. Her nose nuzzles my temple, and somehow our mouths join. Her kisses are deep, hot, and minty. I feel like she’s breathing quickly, pulling away to gulp breaths more than normal—and by now I can tell for sure she’s shaking. Every time our tongues stroke, she lets out a mewl-like groan, and she trembles.

“Bella,” I murmur between kisses. “Bella Elise…questo è un così adorabile ciao.”

“Why are you here?” It’s a whimper.

I press my cheek against hers. “Why does the sun rise?”

She kisses my cheek and chin and brow—just gentle pecks. “I missed you.”

“I miss you more, la mia rosa.”

We kiss, hard and rough and aching, until she’s panting again. Then her eyes are on mine, making my knees weak. “Be careful when you’re moving things.” It’s barely whispered.

“What do you mean?”

“In Queens.” Her eyes are wide, imploring.

I smooth her hair off her warm forehead. “If you’re looking into that, you need to talk to Nicci Woodbern at the FBI.”

Her brows gather. I can see wheels turning in her head, which makes my heart kick up a notch. “You can’t talk to me about it, rosa.” I cup her flushed cheek with my hand and try to really look her over. “Are you okay?”

Her face is pale under the spots of color on her cheeks, and I think her eyes look glassy.

A little shiver ripples through her shoulders as she closes her eyes. “I had the flu. I’m better now.”

I hold her closer, and she sort of sags against me. “Is Jace around?”

“He’s away,” she says. “For work.”

Her cheek is on my shoulder, her arms holding onto my waist. I press my face against her throat and listen to her heartbeat. When she glances up at me, her eyelids look heavy.

“Povero tesoro…”

She’s not better. Sweet Elise is curled against me, holding on as if her legs might give out. Fuck, and I can’t really help her. Hugging her with one arm, I reach into my pocket with my other hand and dig out my key. Then I press it into her palm. “I’m parked at the Lutheran church across the street and a little down from Tavern on the Green. Can you walk to my car?”

Her eyes flicker up to meet mine, and I know it’s bullshit—that she’s better—when she just nods.

“That’s right.” I sweep her hair back off her forehead again. “Just get in and wait for me. I’ll come right after.”

She nods.

“You know where that church is?”

“Yes.” She gives me a small smile and steps away. With just a foot or two between us, she lifts her slender hand, as if to wave. Then she turns away from me and drifts into a slow jog.

Fifteen minutes later, I find her reclined in my front passenger seat, buckled with her eyes closed and an arm wrapped around her middle. When I get in the car, she peels her eyelids open, smiling a smile that looks painful.

“Stellina.” I smooth my hand over her warm forehead. “Anywhere you need to be?”

She shakes her head, closing her eyes. Then a shiver ripples through her, and she draws into herself as if she’s cold.

“Let me take you to my place, la mia rosa. Only for a few hours. Let me take care of you like you did for me at the cabin.”

She peeks up at me, looking definitely dazed. I lay my hand over her forehead again. Then I reach into the back seat for a hoodie I keep there. At the next stop light, I spread it over her.

“This might be a bad idea.” Her glazed eyes peek at me, even as she starts to shiver again. “I don’t want you to get sick.”

“I take all my vitamins.”

I rub her soft hair, using my fingertips to massage along her hairline while I drive us slowly toward the bridge.

“You hot or cold?”

“I’m fine.” She gives me a tiny smile. Now that she’s stationary and curled up, I can see how sick she really is.