Rushed(93)

"You two ended up in bed together," Luisa said with just a hint of jealousy in her voice.

I nodded, thinking back. "Afterward, we agreed to see where things went, and we kept seeing each other for the rest of the semester. But then, over summer break, things went bad."

"What happened?" Luisa asked, her voice soft and concerned.

“Sam’s father was a bit overprotective. He looked into my family, and of course, he figured out who I was. Long story short, he forbade her from seeing me again. So when the next semester started and I showed up at her dorm room to see how things went . . . it didn't go well."

Luisa nodded. "And thus, you became a player."

“Um, I guess you could call it that," I said softly.

"Then you met a Brazilian girl whose family would never approve of her being with an American," she commented, looking out the window. "For me, his name was Travis. I thought I was in love with him too, or I suppose I was. He didn’t feel the same way—he was one of my professors, had tenure even. He and I got together, and even after he told me he had a wife and swore to me that they were separating, I fell for it. Of course, I was an idiot, and later, I found out he'd been playing me for a fool. Apparently, it wasn’t the first time he’d done that to a student. My family found out, and that started the feelings, though they were already there to a degree."

We looked at each other, the gap between us narrowing but still so wide, our lives now being in the way. Luisa blinked and smiled. "So last night?"

"Was more than I let on," I said softly, reaching up and placing my hand on her arm. “You're probably the last woman I should be getting involved with. We seem to clash with one another, but then again, it could be because of the attraction between us.”

“Well, if it means anything to you . . . last night was something for me too. It may have been a lot of sexual frustration built up, but it was something I hope wasn’t just one night.”

She smiled, and I smiled back. "So what now? I'm going to be stuck here, and you're probably going to be back in Brazil before I'm let go."

Luisa shook her head. "I talked with my father, and I told him that I was the reason you’re injured. I convinced him that I needed to stay until you’re back on your feet."

I could see the hope flaring in her eyes, and I nodded. "Okay," I said softly. "But if I act like an * again, you understand, right?"

"I understand. If you can understand when I get bitchy."

I chuckled and patted her hand. “Hey, I’m starting to get used to it.”

Luisa growled softly and patted my cheek. “Careful. I'd hate to hurt your good shoulder.”





Chapter 10





Luisa





I felt flutters in my stomach as the blue SUV pulled up in front of the Bertoli mansion. Unfortunately for me, the only SUV owned by the Bertolis was a dark blue Chevy Tahoe, the irony of which had escaped nobody over the days since Leonard Frakes had tried to run me off the road.

I'd spent the entire last five days holding to the promise that I'd made to my father and to Tomasso, going to the hospital every day starting at noon to help him through the worst part of the day. The first day, I brought him a book, Seveneves. It was supposed to be good and was one of the books that hadn't looked read in his room. "For the hours I'm not here."

"Thanks," Tomasso replied, thumbing through it. "It was a coming home present from Adriana. In her note, she said after all that cut and dry business study, I needed to let my fantastical side out more."

We spent most of the time just talking, sharing memories about growing up in criminal families. "Like I said, in Brazil, the line between the criminal and what is merely seen as good business is often very thin," I remarked during one of the periods the nurses weren't in the room. Don Bertoli had paid well for a private room, and the staff knew not to interrupt us unless it was necessary. "When you come from a country where even the President is a criminal, and the judges are criminals, that line is very hazy indeed."

Tomasso chuckled. "You and my father should have this discussion. He feels much the same way you do. Me? I do see a clear line between right and wrong, and I plan on following that for my life. If that line is at odds with the law, so be it."

The next day, we'd talked about my family. "Unfortunately, my father is a notorious womanizer," I admitted. "It's why I'm so tall, while my sisters are short, and none of my brothers look alike. It's more accepted in Brazil, I think, but growing up, at least three women I called my aunt were actually mothers to my siblings. My mother met my father when she was a member of the Junior Olympic basketball team back in the nineties. He was in his twenties and she was still in her teens. It was a whirlwind romance, but it's from her that I get my height. And the blonde hair, which is totally natural."

"I never suspected differently," Tomasso said. "Not that I can check if the carpet matches the curtains, with that wax job and all."

I blushed, remembering the heat of our romp. "Well, maybe another time. But Mother may have put up with my father's ways, but she didn't like it. The fourth time it happened, she left, and I stayed with my father in Porto Alegre. My mother got an apartment in Rio, and I would sometimes visit her during breaks from school. She got some boyfriends, not that my father cared. They never officially divorced. They are both Catholics, although the fact that they are both adulterous as hell is something I'm not so sure the archbishop would approve of either."