Page 14 of Tempted Hearts
“Grazie.” I took the wine, ignoring the waitress’s attempt to flirt. I had no interest in anything at the moment except Juliette’s story.
“You know Italian?”
“Not really. I looked up a few phrases on the plane.”
She seemed amused by that. “‘May I have a glass of red wine’ being one of them?”
“Came in handy. Now, about that backpack…”
She was doing everything possible to avoid the topic. Understandable, given the circumstances, but I wasn’t one to let her off the hook. Just the opposite. Something about her made me want to push buttons I had no business pushing.
“I dunno. I was thinking about how grateful I was, to be here with Delaney, drinking a limoncello spritz on the way to explore one of the Cinque Terre towns… and I just… washed my hands and left. Delaney handed me the drinks, went into the bathroom herself, and that was it. It didn’t occur to either of us that the backpack was missing until halfway to Vernazza. When we went back, it was gone without a trace.”
I had so many questions.
“Maybe drinking spritzes while hiking was part of the problem?”
Juliette apparently didn’t like either my question or my tone, and her face said as much.
“Then maybe they shouldn’t sell them at the entrance to the hike. Especially since once you’re on the actual trail you can’t bring them.”
“Hmm. So chugging spritzes and hiking?”
“We didn’t chug them.”
“No?”
“No.” She squinted at me. Annoyed. “Maybe a little.”
My head fell back as I laughed. Not at her words but at her expression. “Parker says you write thrillers. Ever hear the expression ‘if looks could kill’?” I asked when I finished laughing.
“First of all, I haven’t had a ton of time for my fiction writing, so that’s a bit misleading. Second, I have heard the expression. And third… actually, I won’t say that out loud.”
It was hard not to smile around this woman. She was outrageous.
“You looked everywhere in the area, I assume. For the backpack, that is?”
As expected, she rolled her eyes. “No. We actually hiked back, looked in the bathroom stall and then returned to the hotel. I didn’t even think of looking anywhere else. What if”—she paused and made a face that made me realize she was being sarcastic—“someone took it and gave it to the bathroom attendant? Or the restaurant next door? Holy crap, do you think we should go back and ask around?”
Halfway through her speech, I was inexplicably struck with the desire to kiss her. Just to make her stop talking.
“Actually,” she said, stretching out her legs, “maybe I’ll finish this glass of wine instead.”
Since her wine was just about finished, and there was no sign of the almost newlyweds, not surprisingly, I flagged down the waitress and ordered her another.
“So you’re one of those guys, huh?”
I pretended to miss her meaning.
“Pardon?”
“That orders a wine for a woman without asking if she wants another one.”
“Did you want another wine?”
“Besides the point.”
“Is it, though?”
