Heartbeats Amidst Chaos, Part 3

4. Chapter 4

Chapter four

R issa woke to a gentle kiss on her temple followed by fingertips gently brushing her hair out of her face. A smile touched her lips as she opened her eyes to find Elio leaning over her, his dark hair standing erect, his hazel eyes bright. She couldn’t remember the last time she had woken with a smile on her face, and the thought gave her sleep-fogged brain pause.

“Good morning,” Elio said. “I was just about to go out for an early morning swim, and I wondered if you wanted to go with me.”

“What?” Rissa sat up, pushing the sheets aside to peer out the window at the lake. It was just past dawn, and a silver mist twined among the trees and hovered over the glassy water. It was beautiful.

“Oh, no,” she groaned, flopping back onto her pillow. Elio sat on the bed beside her, his face taking on a woebegone expression as he waited for her to explain. He was wearing the black and green swim trunks she had ordered for him and a green, cotton t-shirt. He looked wide awake and excited—and somehow both more innocent and more enticingly attractive than she had seen him yet.

“You’re a morning person,” Rissa sighed. “It’s been obvious from the very beginning, but I’m just now realizing.”

Elio looked at her uncertainly. “Is that a problem?”

“It is for me,” Rissa laughed. “Because I most certainly am not.”

The events of the day before flooded her mind as she lay looking up at his crinkled brow and hopeful eyes. Lifting her hand, she gazed again at the gorgeous engagement ring on her fourth finger.

“Breakfast in bed is one thing,” she said. “But if you’re going to wake me at the crack of dawn to go swimming in a cold lake, I’m afraid I may have to call off our engagement.”

“In that case, hand over the ring,” Elio said, smirking. “I’m going to have to pawn it to pay legal fees when I go out there by myself and immediately get arrested.”

Rissa huffed out a laugh. The strange emotions of the day before had not gone away. She felt light and happy and nervous and scared, all at the same time. It was as if her brain couldn’t figure out if she was truly on a romantic getaway or a dangerous spy mission.

One thing was for sure. There would be no rolling over and going back to sleep.

“All right,” she said, sitting back up. “I’ll come swimming with you.”

Elio bounced off the bed and went to the bags they had dumped on a chair in the corner while preparing for bed the evening before, after ordering room service dinner and having sex again, before falling asleep in one another’s arms.

Rissa took a deep breath as she contemplated the fact that she had fallen asleep in Elio’s arms two nights in a row now. The first night, in the motel, he was moaning in some disturbing dream as she lay awake, worrying. He had reached for her in his sleep, growing calmer as his arms folded around her, pulling her close. And she let him do it, had even relaxed against him soon after, and fell asleep herself.

Last night, they had both been fully awake and panting from intercourse, their arms and legs and naked bodies still entangled. And she had snuggled into him, feeling momentarily free from any inhibitions.

Watching him now, recklessly tossing through their few shared belongings, Rissa found herself readily admitting that she wanted Elio in every way possible. She wanted to kiss him, to pleasure him, to be pleasured by him. But she also wanted to sleep next to him, ride shotgun in his car, laugh with him, swim with him . . .

I’m falling in love.

Acknowledging it was enough of a shock that Rissa almost immediately dismissed the thought. But the truth of it lingered. Why else would she be risking everything—her career, her friends, her life—to be with him?

Taking another shaky breath, Rissa pushed those thoughts to the back of her mind as Elio found what he was looking for and turned around, holding it up gleefully—a barely-there red bikini. Rissa felt herself flush just looking at it. She had been feeling brave and playful when she’d ordered it the day before. She wasn’t sure she still felt the same way.

But she smiled as she stood reluctantly from the cozy bed, pulling the sheet with her to wrap around her naked body, and crossed the room to snatch it from his grasp.

“I seem to remember buying a beach dress to wear over this,” she muttered as she dug into the packages herself. Elio did not move out of her space. Instead, he slipped his arms around her from behind, bending his head to kiss the side of her neck. His hands cradled her breasts, slid down her sides, and caressed her sheet-covered butt before coming to rest on her hips.

Rissa sighed, leaning her head back and turning her face toward his. Their lips met, locking into the shape of each other like two halves of a broken heart charm. The tip of Elio’s tongue traced lightly along the inside of first her bottom lip and then her top, and Rissa felt tingles expanding from her center to her fingertips and toes. She drew back slightly.

“Swimming,” she murmured, and Elio nodded, reluctantly letting his hands fall away.

“I’ll make coffee,” Elio said. “There’s a machine in the kitchen.”

Nodding, Rissa rummaged through the bags with hands that now shook slightly, finally finding the net beach dress she included in her order. Needing space to sort through her thoughts and quiet her body’s intensity, she headed for the bathroom to change. On her way, she grabbed her burner phone from the bedside table, checking the screen for messages.

The only person she had given the number to was Reagan, calling her during the drive to the resort with an abbreviated version of what had gone down and what her and Elio’s plan was. Obviously, Reagan had been none too happy with the idea, but Rissa managed to convince her to keep an ear to the ground and text with any inside developments by promising to keep her in the loop and text her multiple times a day.

She saw that Reagan had already texted her this morning. The message was cryptic.

I have info. If this is still Rissa, tell me what sport I excelled at in junior high.

Rissa smiled. It was a longstanding joke.

You were the thumb war champion. Why would I not still be Rissa?

Reagan’s reply came immediately.

If you had been murdered or kidnapped, I didn’t want to just hand free info to the bad guys.

Call me?

Rissa paused before answering. The smell of coffee had begun to drift from the kitchen, only a few feet away in the small cabin. Elio was waiting for her to go for a swim in the lake.

Whatever her confused feelings and fears, she suddenly desperately wanted a little more time to pretend that this was a carefree vacation, to simply be a little in love with the guy she had met only weeks before but who made her feel things she had never before felt. Real life would come crashing down soon enough. There was no reason not to put it off for a little while.

Biting her lip, she tapped her answer into the phone.

I’ll call you later. Give me a couple of hours.

She did not wait to see what Reagan’s outraged response would be to this put-off. Instead, she slipped into the bikini and the short, curve-hugging net dress and headed to the little cabin kitchen.

There was a mug of steaming black coffee waiting for her next to the single-serve coffee machine, along with a couple of little packets of creamer. The door to the deck was open, and Elio was outside, leaning on the railing and gazing down at the lake.

For a moment, Rissa took the opportunity to just watch him, still trying to sort out the feelings that blossomed in her every time she was in his presence or he crossed her thoughts. It wasn’t simply sexual attraction, although that was most definitely present. His personality attracted her too—he was funny and sweet and thoughtful. He made her laugh and feel safe and beautiful, even in the most unusual of circumstances. Everything about him felt right, despite the fact it seemed that her connection with him was turning her life on its head.

Maybe I wanted that to happen, she thought. Maybe I needed it to happen. The question is: Is there any going back?

It was a question she was far from ready to answer.

Elio reached up to rub absentmindedly at the sutures behind his ear, reminding Rissa of another purchase that should have been delivered with their clothes. Returning to the bedroom, she found the packaged pair of short, blunt-tipped suture scissors and carried them and her coffee out to join Elio on the deck.

The wooden planks prickled a bit beneath her bare feet, and she stepped carefully to avoid splinters. Elio turned as she reached him, a smile ready on his face. Rissa held up the scissors.

“You want me to take your stitches out before your swim?” she asked.

Elio shrugged. “Sure,” he said. “You want to do all of them?”

“Definitely the head wound,” she said. “Let me look at the ones on your abdomen.”

Without preamble, Elio shucked his shirt over his head and stepped closer, half sitting on the rail and lifting his arm away from the jagged ridge of sutures that crawled across his torso. Rissa ran her fingers gently along the line, pleasantly surprised to see that the wound had knit together quickly and smoothly. It would leave a dramatic scar, especially where the sutures had broken early on and been replaced by butterfly bandages, but the fact that it had healed so easily was remarkable.

“Yup, these can come out too,” she said. She set her coffee mug on the railing next to Elio and tore open the package holding her scissors.

“This won’t take long,” she said, glancing up to gauge Elio’s impatience to get on with his swim. He was gazing down at her, his expression uncharacteristically soft.

“No rush,” he said, his lips curling into an easy smile. “You’re still the hottest doctor I’ve ever had, by the way.”

Rissa rolled her eyes as if his words did not ignite a warm flame of delight within her.

“You’re also a really good doctor,” Elio said quietly.

Rissa looked up at him again, surprised by his suddenly serious tone.

“I’m going to make sure helping me doesn’t ruin your career—or anything for you, Rissa,” he said.

Her hands stilled for a millisecond before she continued snipping away the tiny strands of his sutures. It was almost as if he had read her thoughts this morning. Great—now she had to add one more attractive characteristic to the list in her head: Perceptive.

“Well, you have been an unusually trying patient,” she said, casting him a smile. “Now, if you can bring yourself to cooperate and sit in the chair over there so I can reach the sutures behind your ear . . .”

Elio nodded, the sparkle returning to his golden eyes as they stayed locked on hers.

“Whatever you say, Doc,” he drawled.