CHIARA
The cruise returned to the port, and people disembarked. Some with long faces and some with a mature understanding of the series of events that took place, which urged the trip to stop midway.
At the exit was a crowd of reporters waiting to crush anyone with their questions. I said my goodbyes to Viva and Leo because I didn't want to get caught up in their wave when they were surrounded by reporters who were demanding their statements.
Alex's death was all over the media, just for starters.
While I was zoned out in my theories, a hand wrapped around my wrist. "This way." And then I was pulled away with my suitcase in his other hand. I followed along, watching the back of his head.
The perfect lines of the cut, and the little bit of pointy ears that stood out in his facial features, and then down to where he was holding my wrist. The touch wasn't foreign, but it was very unexpected of him.
He stopped by the boat, "Get on before they catch a whiff of us." He said. I looked back at the crowd that swamped around Viva and her fiancé and then back at Carmelo's tall figure. "Didn't know you were this scared of paparazzi."
His eyes narrowed, "Scared?" A scoff left his lips. "That's the second time you wrongfully used that word on me." He murmured, looking past me with a concerned face.
"Huh? When was the first?" My eyebrows drew together. He shook his head, making a strand of his hair fall on the side. How could a simple act like that make one look hot?
"Just get on." There was annoyance laced in his tone, so I stopped playing and got on the boat. Very aware of his hand placement on the small of my back. He placed my suitcase in before he weighed the anchor so professionally. He then stood behind the wheel and sailed us away towards the lake.
I watched as the view behind us got blurry slowly as we drifted further. I came here for a reason, and I refused to leave without achieving it. So, for the sake of it, I was ready to do anything. I had no time to waste on my side. I turned back to his imposing figure, controlling the wheel with so much ease in his dark shades. The shirt outlined his muscled back as the wind blew it softly. His dark brown hair moved in sync.
Carmelo was the owner of a reputable traveling agency despite being the sole heir of his family business. He had his branches all over Italy over the years. It wasn't surprising that he got a personal boat out of the blue and was now sailing us to God knows where.
"I asked for a drink, where the hell are you taking me?" I asked, getting comfortable in my seat. He turned slightly. His side profile was far more captivating as the sun lit bright at our front. "To skin you alive." He replied with a hint of amusement. "Haha, funny." I rolled my eyes.
"You didn't think that we were going to get drunk on empty stomachs, did you?" He said, his hands turning the wheel. The greenery and the villas around the lake came closer.
"Oh, so you're worried about me?" I asked, teasingly. His hands paused, turning the wheel for a moment before he faced me.. "Just sit back and relax. We're going to have lunch first." He uttered and turned back.
At least he was talking to me like a normal man and not like his usual snobbish self. I smiled in a small victory and leaned back, facing the sky, my shades shielding my eyes from the bright sun. Some places were just so heavenly made, even I, a picky person, knew that Lake Como and its surroundings were ethereal.
Time passed as I was lost, basking in the glory of nature. "We're here." His calm voice came. I opened my eyes, annoyed that he pulled me from the therapeutic silence that I was enjoying.
I sat up and looked around. The boat pulled up at the shore before the engine hummed off. We were in Varenna. The wonderful Italian village, which was widely known as a jewel in the heart of Lake Como.
"Here, wear this." He handed me a white silk head scarf with gold prints. Without arguing, I wrapped it around my head and adjusted my shades. All the while, my eyes watched him put on his blue baseball hat, pulling it lower to his forehead.
Although I hated to admit it, he looked good. And it was my first time seeing him with a hat on. It was always black suits and rectangle-framed glasses whenever I ran into his posts on social media.
He got off first and outstretched his hand for me. I looked up at him, and our gazes held. That stupid moment where we just stared at each other passed again. Almost like hypnotization. You could've sworn his eyes talked. I snapped out of it and placed my hand in his.
He helped me out and let go the moment I got my footing. I rubbed my cold hand from the absence of his warm one. Why the hell did it feel good? Something was wrong in the air.
"Hey, what about my suitcase?" I asked when he started to walk off without saying a word.
"Leave it. Nobody would touch that boat." He said nonchalantly. Yep, I judged too soon.
I looked back at the empty shore, then to my suitcase, biting my lip lightly, and then rushed after him.