Page 67 of Winter With You

Gabriella shook her head. ‘It’s really not. I wanted it to be. But they edited it so much she’s almost erased now.’ She sighed. ‘I don’t know how or when it happened but it’s like somewhere along the line the book lost the reason I wanted to write it.’

‘Which is why you should talk about your sister. In your interviews.’

She shook her head again. ‘There’s nothing left to say.’

‘I don’t believe that.’

‘It doesn’t matter what you believe. It’s my truth.’

‘Or your lie.’ He held his breath as her eyes found his.

‘Why are you talking to me like this?’ she asked him.

Her tone gave him goosebumps. It was like here together in the middle of this festive centrepiece, they were slowly, rawly, stripping each other completely bare.

‘I think we both have things we want to share, but we’re too afraid to share them.’

‘That’s what you think?’

He paused for a beat, let himself linger inside those chestnut brown eyes. ‘It’s what I’m feeling, and what I’m learning.’

‘Well,’ she said. ‘I don’t do that.’

‘Neither do I.’ He carried on holding her gaze. ‘I also don’t kiss girls on Manhattan Bridge and forget about it.’

You want to kiss her again. You want to kiss her again and not stop there.

‘You should forget about it,’ Gabriella replied.

But her tone was saying the opposite, as was how he could feel the light but somehow intense pressure of her body next to his. He leaned in to that a little…

‘Have you forgotten about it?’

He was holding his breath now, like her answer could steal everything he had.

‘No,’ she whispered.

And as his libido practically caught alight, suddenly, over Gabriella’s shoulder, something caught his eye. A man. Long dark coat. Carrying something by a handle. There was no time to do anything but pull Gabriella towards him, fusing them like melting glass until she was completely enveloped by him. He held her tight, closed his eyes and then it hit. Liquid. Soaking. Smelling. Blood?

41

Gabriella felt Luca let go and then he leapt up from the bench. He was covered from head to foot in dark red liquid, like from a horror movie scene. People were screaming and Luca looked a little crazed, eyes scanning the crowd.

‘Did you see where he went? There was a man, in a black coat.’

‘Gabriella,’ Phoebe said, rushing towards her with Mr Darcy. ‘What happened?’ Then Gabriella watched her niece notice Luca. ‘Luca! You’re hurt!’

‘It’s OK,’ Gabriella said, going to her niece, waffles abandoned. She dabbed at her own coat with one of the provided napkins; the spatters of red liquid had also got on herself. ‘No one’s hurt. It’s just paint.’

‘Are you OK?’ It was Luca back, addressing her while he dripped a pool on the floor.

‘I’m OK,’ Gabriella assured. ‘But you’re not and it’s all my fault. Cheyenne said that some activists might want to make a political statement and use me and the book to do that. I didn’t believe her when she went on about security but I guess that’s what this was. Although I’m not sure what message they wanted to send.’

‘Is it blood?’ Phoebe asked, quivering a bit.

‘No,’ Luca said fast. ‘No, it’s fake blood. Like they use in movies. There’s nothing to worry about. But I should go. Get cleaned up.’

Phoebe looked at Gabriella. ‘You said it was paint.’