Page 20 of Duty and Desire

He wasn’t kidding.

I clung to the ropes as we climbed through a gully, water trickling down the rocks on either side. “Do you trust this rope?” I quipped.

“It’s been here a while, so yes.”

I was glad one of us had faith.

The steep climb ended at a bench of all things, hewn out of the rock, and we sat for a while, mainly to let my heartbeat return to its normal rhythm. I glanced at my dirt-covered calves and chuckled.

“Well, you did say there’d be mud.” I grimaced. “And what the hell were those little spiky flower heads that kept scratching my legs and making them itch? What do you call them?”

Nick grinned. “Little spiky flower heads.”

I tore my gaze away from the wonderful views to look up. “Are we nearly there?”

“Yes, not far now.” He peered at me. “I was right about you.”

I arched my eyebrows. “Oh?”

“To do this hike with someone else, you need to have a high degree of certainty that they’re up to it. Because let’s be honest. This would be beyond a lot of people.” His eyes were warm. “But I felt sure you could manage it. Glad I was proved correct.”

The words were out before I could rein them in.

“You speak excellent English, but I don’t think it’s your first language.”

Nick didn’t look at me as he spoke. “I was taught English from the moment I began talking. I studied it at university. And you’re right, it wasn’t my native language but I don’t ever remember speaking anything but English. Oh, and French, of course, which I hated learning.”

I chuckled. “When I was little, I spoke two languages—English outside the house, Italian in it.”

“I did wonder with a name like Gio. Is it short for Giovanni?”

I nodded. “Less of a mouthful. Giovanni Francesco Colonna. An old Italian name according to my nonna.”

“Do you still speak it?”

Another chuckle. “Enough that I get great service in Italian restaurants. The weird thing is, I’ve never been to Italy. It’s on my bucket list, though. I want to see Rome, Florence, Venice, Sicily, Pompeii…Nonna is very keen for me to see Rome. I think that’s where our family came from.” I smiled. “Maybe I will one day when I write a book that stays at the top of the bestsellers list for about, oh, I don’t know, five years?” I ducked a second later, shielding myself with my hands.

“What did you do that for?” Nick regarded me in bewilderment.

“I was taking cover. I didn’t want my head to get bashed in by the feet of those pigs flying over us.”

He stared at me for a second before bursting into laughter. “Wow. You have self-deprecation down to a fine art.”

“I’m a realist.” I straightened. “Me having that kinda success is about as likely as the next pope being called Bertha.”

Nick bit back a smile. “Iwasgoing to ask you about your books, but now I’m not so sure.”

We lapsed into silence, both of us gazing at the view.

What came to mind was Aulani, but for the life of me, I couldn’tthink how to broach the subject.Why is there someone stalking you?seemed a little too out there.

“Ready for the final leg?”

Apparently, our conversation was at an end.

“Sure.”

I knew the moment we reached the summit: the wind picked up, and the peak of Mount Otemanu was shrouded in cloud.

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