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Piero’s fish food lunges from the backseat. Encircling Gina’s waist in my arms, I move back.
The car tips. The rear tire’s attempt to gain purchase is futile. It plunges. Gina’s screaming in my ears as I cushion her fall onto the stony gravel. Piero’s victim’s screaming is masked by the sound of the car, hitting branches and trees all the way down!
My hands are all over her face, my mouth wet from kissing her. Gina’s entire body is shivering above me. I rub the blood off the side of her face, taking my first exhale. It’s not her blood.
“You gonna kill me, Santino?” She squeaks. “You killed—almostkilled Carlos. Now, he’s really dead. You didn’t want me to die just now. You want to be the one to . . . Please don’t kill me. I’m sorry . . . Gabby did—”
I cradle her face in my hands, looking up at her. “Gina, that wasn’t Carlos. He has nothing to do with us. Oh, baby, I could never hurt you.”
“You were squeezing my breast . . .”
“I fucking love you, Gina. Did you tell me to stop crushing your nipples?”
For a split second, a sly grin is on Gina’s lips. “I’m alive! You love me. You saved me!”
Her lips are crushing mine when Piero commands, “Yes, beautiful, you’re alive. We don’t have much time. Get up, please!”
I sit up with Gina on top of me. She glances up at my uncle. “You’re the chef from Piero’s Pies.”
“I’m not just the chef, love. I’mtheePiero.” He takes her hand, kissing his way up her forearm and helping her up. “Piero Roman. Santino’s maternal uncle.”
“You resemble his mom,” she replies. “Gina Galloway.”
Piero kisses her awaited hand, then leads her toward my car. Glancing over her shoulder at me, Gina asks, “Why are we rushing? My legs are like jelly.”
I summersault into a standing position and take over where my uncle left off. Lifting her, I stride over to the truck and sit her in the passenger seat.
“I’m wanted for abducting you, Gina?”
Her eyebrows furrow. “That can’t be . . .”
“It’s true, Ms. Galloway,” Piero interjects in a firm, gentle voice. “I came to give him a few things, on the chance that he was hiding out atmy,uh . . . Fishing cabin.”
Gina’s facial expression registers:fishing cabin, sure.
Piero adds,“However, the car exploding down the mountain may draw unwanted attention to the area.”
“Gina.” I run my hands over the top of her thighs. The thin cotton pants are hardly warming her. “I’m not chancing the cops coming up here. I need to leave, figure out a few things.”
“But—”
“There isn’t anything that I want more in the world than for you to be at my side right now.”
Big, innocent eyes glitter up at me. “Santino, I’ll talk to them.”
I stroke her cheek. “Sweetheart—”
“Don’t—”
“Gina, Bella, love of my life, I have to go. There’s video footage of me taking you from a bar. If you come with me, I want to make things right between us and give you the birthday I promised.”
“The birthday?” The confusion lifts like a veil, and Gina’s face glows with bliss. “My birthday?”
“Yes, my love.”
“I want to be with you, Santino.”
“So, stay with me, or I’ll get you back to the cabin.”
