Deception of the Heart (16 page)

‘You promise not to spill the beans?’
She enjoyed the secretive camaraderie more than she should have, his grin sending thousands of butterflies into her stomach.

‘Scout’s honor,’ he promised
, and she believed him. Truth be told, he could have promised on the dead dog he never had, and it would have sufficed. She wanted to tell him, her own excitement making it hard to resist sharing.

‘Well, I was very surprised to see Pete so involved, you know,’ she started
. His encouraging nod made it even easier to talk. ‘I wasn’t so sure he really liked Daniel. I mean, I know he really respects him and all, and he was super excited about coming here, but…’ She paused, searching for the right words, and he waited, patient and slightly amused. ‘I didn’t sense him really connecting with Daniel, I guess. He seems to have some issues with the way Daniel lives, which bothered me a lot.’

‘Sometimes people just don’t get along
.’ Jon shrugged, his face impassive. ‘While with others, you feel as if you’ve known them all of your life.’

She wanted to ask if she fell into th
at category, but she stopped herself just in time. She could only imagine how pathetic that would make her look.

S
he decided to keep going with her story, any personal comments left aside. ‘True, but with Pete, it was different. It’s hard to explain, but I almost had the feeling he resents Daniel, if that makes any sense. Well, I am glad to be proved wrong,’ she finished dryly, recalling Pete’s plans. ‘He must like him if he had stepped up to this whole elaborate scheme to surprise him on his big day, right?’


Yep, and I am very curious what kind of surprise they have in mind.’ She could have sworn a small tinge of irony crept into his last words, making her wonder what exactly he thought of Pete. Was he jealous? She dismissed the idea right away, the absurdity making it impossible to believe. Why would he be jealous? Just because she wanted him to care didn’t make him care. She needed a reality check and fast.

Jon turne
d off the engine, the car coming to a stand in front of something that looked a lot like a rundown restaurant. The few tables in the front sported cheerful tablecloths and half-wilted carnations in small vases. No people sat outside, and the voices on the other side of the half open door made it obvious guests preferred the shady shelter of the building’s thick walls. Melanie looked around, registering the grove of orange trees and a few more scattered buildings, low, stony walls brilliantly white against the backdrop of the blue sky. A dusty road disappeared around the curve, lined with tall cypresses and palms.

‘We’ll have to walk from here,’ Jon explained, gesturing to the road. ‘
The ruins of the old parish are lower in the valley. Up here, they built a restaurant and a few souvenir shops.’

A man walked out
of one of the shops, his Italian too fast for her to catch anything beyond the words ticket and visiting hours. Jon obviously had no such difficulties, and his short exchange with the older man left them with two tickets and a colorful brochure describing the site. The man gave them a friendly wave and disappeared back into his shop, the encounter as fleeting as if it hadn’t happened at all.

She spotted two other parked cars, once again marveling at
how the small, elegant machines were so different from the huge trucks back home.

‘I guess it’s a slow day today,’ Jon commented wryly, pointing
at the almost empty parking lot. ‘Which is actually good, because places like this get better with peace and quiet, don’t you think? They usually have more visitors on Sundays and during the holiday season, but right now, it’s not the case.’

Their short walk took them to a meadow surrounded by
a thicket of tall oaks and somber evergreens, making her think of guardians protecting their precious secret. Green grass dotted with small poppies and marguerites grew around a few broken up remnants of what was once a stone building shaped like the cross. Ivy crept into the crevices of the walls, cascaded over, and wove its way into the dark interior of a crypt nestled against the time ravaged walls.

‘Come closer
.’ Jon beckoned and she followed, not hesitating as he led her into the dark building. She trusted him. She felt his fingers wrapped around her palm, the warmth of his skin both exciting and reassuring. ‘They have an underground chapel built here,’ he explained as they slowly descended to a cavernous room, dimly lit by a few lamps and what must have been a skylight carved through the thick, vaulted ceiling. ‘It has some of the oldest surviving mosaics from early Christianity.’

‘It’s beautiful
.’ She gazed around, noticing the detailed pictures made of blue, black, and green stones. Faces of angels and holy men looked back at her, their dark eyes somber and peaceful. ‘It looks so undisturbed and almost alive,’ she whispered, her gaze lingering on images of lambs, rabbits, and fish. Surprisingly accurate, the animals looked no different from the flocks their car passed on the way there. The dark eyes of the sheep reflected the light, and even though she knew better, she half expected them to blink or move as they came to life. She was fully aware it was just a trick of the beams reflecting from the polished surface. Still, the hand of an artist from two thousand years ago had managed to capture something that remained current, oblivious to the passage of time.

‘People gathered her
e for their weekly prayers,’ Jon continued, his hand still wrapped around her palm. ‘Especially after the persecutions against them began, it was a safe place to meet and talk about what they faced.’

They
walked around, the interior surprisingly large. The room opened into another, much smaller area, the ceiling much lower. It was so low Jon had to bend his head to avoid colliding with the rock.


This was their chapel,’ he explained. He pointed at the slab of stone in the middle. ‘And that was the altar, I think.’

She liked
it. She looked at the simple, grey rock, free of any adornments. She had never considered herself a very spiritual person. Her religious past was mostly agnostic with a few visits to church. Mostly for weddings and funerals, if she recalled correctly, and she was surprised by the strong emotions the chapel evoked deep inside her. She sensed a presence there, and the lack of distractions allowed her to focus on the most important aspect – the divine one.


I came here once before.’ Jon’s breath tickled her ear as he stood near her. His voice was the only sound breaking the silence. ‘I found this place very calming and beautiful at the same time. Actually, I think it was the first time in twenty years or so that I felt any need to pray…’ He sighed, running a hand through his short, dark hair.

She didn’t interrupt. Somehow she sensed he wanted to share with her
a moment of talking about himself, offering her a glimpse into his private life that had been mostly a mystery so far.


You know, life makes you and breaks you, as they say.’ His smile held just the tiniest hint of sadness, impossible to ignore. She wondered what had happened to him in those last twenty years to harden him into the self-reliant, strong man she’d met. She knew she wanted to know more.


You don’t seem like someone easily broken,’ she ventured, hoping to prompt more revelations. ‘Quite the opposite. I’d venture to guess you are the strongest person I know.’


Oh, but you don’t know me that well, Melanie.’ Suddenly he turned, pulling her closer. ‘You don’t know what kind of a man I am at all.’

His fingers left her palm only to stroke
higher up her arm, resting lightly against her neck. He didn’t pull her closer, not really. His touch was as light as thistledown, barely there. Yet it felt as if traces of fire ran under her skin wherever he touched. Slow, steady fire that warmed her blood and heated her skin, now acutely aware of the slightly abrasive texture of his fingertips.


What if I want to find out more?’ she challenged breathlessly, unsure what she was doing. In that moment, she didn’t really care. She desperately wanted to get closer to him, even if only for the few remaining days she had in Italy.


Curiosity killed the cat.’ He grinned, but she sensed the change in him. Every cell of her body responded to the current between them, invisible yet powerful. ‘What if you were disappointed?’


Somehow I don’t think so.’ She let her fingers travel up his arm, enjoying the firm muscles beneath her fingertips. ‘But then again, I am a very curious person.’

Before he had a chance to answer, the tense silence
was interrupted as a group of young men barged into the room, laughing and shouting. Dressed in T-shirts and jeans, they looked just like any other group of local men she had seen around. The shrewd look in their eyes when they noticed Melanie and Jon told her that somehow they were different. Different and horribly wrong, and she didn’t like the way their smiles deepened.


Ciao
.’ The tallest man approached them, his olive skin marred by chicken pox marks. ‘You visit our museum here? Tourists from America,

? Do you need a guide?’ He stepped closer, his small eyes narrowing into slits as he waited for their response. From the corner of her eye, Mel noticed the three other men spread across the room. The short burly man in a tight red T-shirt was uncomfortably close to her frozen body. She didn’t like the way he looked at her, his assessing gaze almost palpable.

‘Thank
you, but we’re just fine.’ Jon’s voice calmed her instantly, her heart rate slowing down at the sound of his unperturbed response. ‘We are just about done here, I think.’


Why the rush?’ the tall man raised his hand in a soothing gesture. It would look convincing if not for the smirk sneaking around his thin-lipped smile, and Melanie took an instinctive step away.


We come here often, so we know this place well,’ another man, silent so far, added. He had a raspy voice that matched his rather disheveled appearance. Longish, bleached curls framed his round face, his chest disproportionally wide compared with his short legs and narrow hips. The build of a ring fighter, Melanie realized with a sinking feeling. She sensed that Jon shared her trepidation. The stillness of his body reminded her of a wild animal, coiled to spring and attack if needed. The other men didn’t seem to notice anything amiss, or maybe they didn’t care. There were four of them, after all. They didn’t need to worry about one man and a girl who was no match for the smallest of them.

Jon
shook his head in a polite yet icy cold refusal. ‘As I said, we really appreciate your offer, but we’re leaving.’ He shrugged, his voice friendly yet definite. ‘Enjoy your stay.’

She wasn’t sure what happened next, the flurry of activity impossible to follow. Suddenly she felt a rough hand grab her wrist and pull her to the side. Surprised
, she tried to keep her balance. The sudden jerk was painful enough to bring tears to her eyes. She struggled to free herself, an instinctive response that kicked in instantly. It took less than a second or two, but it felt like a lifetime until she was free again. The short, burly man was sprawled on the ground, his hands pressed to his chest as he groaned.


That’s enough,’ Jon ordered.

Melanie
glanced at Jon, his thunderous expression sending a frisson of fear down her spine. He looked… dangerous, for the lack of better description. Without her even noticing, Jon had brought two of them down, both writhing in pain on the ground. ‘You can pick yourselves up and leave before things will get worse,’ he ordered the men, his brows pulled together. ‘Just make it quick before I change my mind. Assaulting tourists is a crime, so get lost.’

‘You think you’re so strong,

?’ The tallest man glared at Jon venomously, his eyes moving back and forth from his hurt colleagues to the other man still standing. ‘There are four of us, you
pazzo
Americano. You and your
ragazza
here can do nothing if we choose to hurt you. We could make her suffer if we wanted to.’ He sent a sleazy look her way, and she shivered in disgust, feeling as if he’d undressed her with his gaze.


Just walk away.’ Jon’s voice carried such lethal authority that she saw the man cringe, stepping back and hesitating for a moment. ‘If you look at her one more time, I cannot guarantee you’ll be able to walk anywhere anytime soon.’

Another
litany of profanities followed as the man backed away, his shrewd eyes assessing Jon and coming to the right conclusion. After all, two of the men were limping to the exit, both their faces frozen in a grimace of pain. Whatever martial arts Jon knew, he was pretty good at them. They gave him one last glance, torn between wanting to get even and realizing that maybe they had bitten off more than they could chew. The fear won out, and they disappeared in the dim corridor, as fast and silent as if they were never there. Just a bad dream, nothing more.

She didn’t really want to move, not while there was a chance
they’d change their minds and come back to face Jon again. He didn’t seem to share her worries.

She felt his hand pull her near, closing the small distance between them. ‘You
okay?’ he asked urgently, ignoring his victory over the men. His dark eyes rested on her face, intent and worried, and she nodded jerkily, her teeth chattering as the shock settled in.

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