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Authors: Rachel Harris

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BOOK: A Tale of Two Centuries
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In the distance, shouts ring out from other surfers riding the waves, but here, on this patch of sand with Austin, I feel isolated.

One of us moves first, I am unsure which, but soon my knees are sinking into the sand, and I am tipping my head back to look into his eyes. The brilliant blue color has deepened again.

Awareness fills the thin sheet of air between us. I lick my lips without thinking, and he lowers his eyes to watch the flick of my tongue. I have never in my life been wanton, but the feminine empowerment I feel as he exhales a shaky breath makes me want to do it again. So I do. Slowly this time, gliding my tongue over my bottom lip.

A low growl is my only warning before Austin’s hands thrust into my hair. “I warned you about playing with fire.”

Breathlessly, I say, “And I told you I’m tired of being careful.”

He nods once…and then his mouth crashes onto mine.

Firm lips devour me, and I drown in the rush of feeling. In all my late-night dreams of what this moment would be like, I never expected it could be like this. My body collapses, and one of his arms locks around me, smashing my chest against his.

My first kiss is not the slow, sweet build-up I witnessed between Cat and Lorenzo. This is aggressive. This is passionate. This is Austin.

The shocking sting of teeth biting into my lower lip causes me to gasp, and Austin uses it to drive his tongue into my mouth. My knees buckle. If it weren’t for the splay of his hand on my lower back and the pressure of his fingers wrapped around the nape of my neck, I would sink to the sand.

I hang in the moment and briefly do nothing. Everything that is happening is so shocking, so unexpected, and so deliciously wonderful that I cannot think, cannot breathe. Then the taste of orange hits the back of my tongue, reminding me of the orange soda Austin drank on the way here, and I give myself over to the embrace. Good girls may not kiss like this where I come from, but I am here now, and there is no greater adventure then the feel of Austin’s lips on my own.

Suddenly he breaks away.

The heat in his eyes as he stares down at me is enough to melt my wetsuit. His shifting, unusually vulnerable gaze has me wanting to wrap my arms around him and bring his mouth back down to mine. But then the walls he chooses to hide behind come back up. They shut me out as effectively as if he had slid on a mask, and my arms dangle to my sides, weighted.

“So,” he says, pushing to his feet, “back to surfing.”

Acting as though nothing happened, Austin slides his arms through the slick fabric of his suit and zips it over his chest, the cold, metallic closing sound symbolic of his own attempt at retreat. But what he doesn’t know is that this time, I refuse to let him hide.

To quote an expression I heard a teacher use yesterday, I have Austin’s number now.

Today may’ve begun as just another one of his challenges, but now it is so much more. Licking my lips and tasting orange, I vow that before the day is done, I will know the
real
Austin a whole lot better…and experience kissing him a great deal more.

Chapter Nineteen

The turbulent waves crash all around me and I would be lying if I said I wasn’t terrified—this seemed like a much safer proposition on shore. After practicing on the sand until I perfected my pop-up, Austin handed me a pair of surfing booties and gloves to keep my extremities warm in the cold winter water. Then, after donning his own booties (he just rolled his eyes when I asked about his gloves), he grabbed the board and guided my prone body to a “calm” stretch of ocean between the breaking waves.

If this is calm, I do not believe I will ever be ready for agitated.

Who would have thought that a God-given ocean could be more frightening than a man-made, death-defying roller coaster?

It is imperative that Austin not see my distress. I want him to think me brave and confident. I want him to be proud of me—
I
want to be proud of me. So I sit up tall and grip with my thighs as another swell rams into my board.

“Feel that?” Austin asks, and I blink rapidly in reply.
Of course I felt that
. “This isn’t much different than how it’ll be when you’re really surfing; you’re just gonna be on your feet. Nothing to it, right?”

I give a thin-lipped smile and nod, then turn to watch the surfers in the distance. Austin said he chose this spot so we would not get in their way, but a side benefit is that I am without an audience. Instead, I can be one.

“Now watch that guy,” he says, pointing toward a boy just popping up onto his board. Austin changes his grip on my board and sits up taller in the water. “He saw the wave coming and started paddling hard. As soon as he felt the surge, he shot up to his feet. Wait for that feeling—like someone’s behind you, giving you an extra push. If you pop up too early, you’re just gonna fall off the back of the wave.”

I glance at the churning, swirling water. That does not look at all appealing.

“See how his knees are bent?” he continues, and I raise my head. “And watch his turn—all he does is take a slight step back near the fin, and that lifts the nose of the board. Now he has leverage so when he leans to the left, the board knows where to go. Then he goes right back to the center. It’ll be the same for you—like a dance. Take a step back, twist your torso just a bit, and then return to center and ride the wave. Make sense?”

Absolutely none.
“I think so.”

Austin grins. “Look, this is fun, but you have to relax. It’s just you and the water out here. No one’s watching. Well, except me.”

Though his attempt at encouragement causes my stomach to tighten more, it isn’t solely from nerves. Out here in his element, Austin is altered. He doesn’t completely give himself over and become the hidden boy that I know lives underneath, but he is softer. More caring. Sweeter, even. His patience with me has been boundless and he’s proven that he is worthy of my trust.

“Okay,” I tell him, taking a breath. “I’m ready.”

He smiles one of his rare, hard-earned smiles and I feel as though I can do anything. “There’s my girl.” Heat infuses my cheeks in spite of the cold, but to my surprise (and satisfaction), Austin doesn’t take back his words. Chuckling softly, he pats the back of my board. “You’re pretty tiny, so when you get into position, I’m gonna ride back here to give you some confidence and help steady the board as you stand up.” He glances out to the waves. “Ready to practice catching a few easy ones?”

As ready as I will ever be.

“I trust you,” I tell him, lying down as he instructed, belly to the board. “I know you will take care of me.”

When he does not immediately tell me where to go or what to do next, I twist my neck around, curious about the delay. Austin stares back with a disconcerted look on his beautiful face. After a beat, he coughs, then in a strange voice says, “Thanks.”

Hmm, not exactly the reaction I had expected. I know I am not the only one who feels this way about him—his sister Jamie believes he hung the moon. Puzzled, I set my elbow on the board and begin to sit up. “Austin—”

He abruptly looks off at the ocean. “Look, here comes a good one. Let’s go chase it.”

Recognizing a diversion ploy when I see it, I grant him his privacy and throw all my energy into following his instruction. I paddle hard, cupping my hands and pushing myself through the tossing waves of the water, loving the feel of power over the elements. When I get into position, Austin climbs on the back of my board, and I turn around and lie down facing the water’s edge. My foot brushes against the inside of his thigh, and my stomach flips, remembering the heat of our kiss. Then a spray shoots up and hits me in the face, bringing me back to the present. I wipe the moisture from my eyes.

A bird calls overhead. My heartbeat accelerates. The energy of the ocean ignites the blood in my veins, and I quiver in anticipation. The swell rises below me and propels my board toward the shore, and I pop up just as Austin taught me. I grin, knowing he is seated right behind me, steadying me, and I bend my knees.

Oh, Signore in heaven, I’m actually doing it!

Words cannot describe the feel of the wind on my cheeks and the sensation of oneness I feel with God’s creation. Needing to see Austin’s reaction, to know if he’s proud of me, I look back…and my legs wobble.

Time slows to the beat of my heart in my ears. Austin’s eyes widen. I face the shore again and throw my arms out, trying to rectify my balance—but the effort comes too late. My board flies up in the air, I pitch forward, and my chest hits the water with a loud, agonizing splash.

Pain radiates throughout my body. My body sinks as though made of lead, and the only thing I can think is,
I cannot swim.

Why didn’t I think about this before? The answer, as embarrassing as it is, comes all too soon. I was too eager, too trusting…too naïve. But I will not let my folly end my adventure in such a way.

I kick out my feet and throw my hands up, trying to paddle in the water as Austin taught me on land. Holding my breath, the pressure mounting in my head, I lift my eyes and look for the surface.

Water churns. Bubbles shoot past my face.

My lungs begin to burn.

Then a strong arm wraps around my waist and hauls me up.

“I got you,” Austin says, holding me high as I gasp and choke on precious gulps of air. He pushes through the water, holding me close, and then lifts me. A wave crashes below me as he pats my back, repeating, “I’ve got you. You’re all right.”

Cradling my head in the nook between his neck and shoulder, he runs through the foamy water, carrying me as if I weigh nothing. He doesn’t stop at the packed edge where the water and sand meet, but brings me all the way up onto the soft sand, away from any onlookers. I sputter and drag in more air as he lays me down and brushes away the long strands of hair stuck to the wet skin of my face. When I can at last inhale and exhale again with a bit of normalcy, he glides the back of his hand across my forehead and over my cheeks. “Alessandra, are you okay?”

Ignoring the loud buzzing in my ears, I manage a weak, “Y-yes.”

He shakes his head. “I don’t understand. I mean, I know getting tossed off your board can feel like you’re trapped in a washing machine, but the water wasn’t even that deep. What happened out there?”

I gnaw on my cold lower lip, scared to admit the truth and knowing that I must. A shiver rocks through me. Looking up into Austin’s worried eyes, I confess, “I can’t swim.”

Those worried eyes narrow in disbelief, then he closes them and releases a frustrated breath. “That’s something that would’ve been good to know
before
we got into the ocean.”

“I know,” I say through chattering teeth, feeling dreadfully stupid for what I’m about to say. “To be honest, I did not think of it.” Bewildered eyes fly open at my admission, and I hasten to add, “I-I was just so eager to partake in your world, a-and I guess I didn’t think I would fall.”

“Everyone falls at some point.” He rakes his hands through his wet hair. “I even have a freaking life jacket in the back of my truck. If you would’ve just been honest with me, this wouldn’t have happened.”

I shake my head, though whether he can tell through the rest of my body’s tremors, I am not sure. “I promise you, I did not withhold the truth on purpose—I truly am that ignorant. In the face of the big, bad ocean, I forgot I cannot even tread water.”

At my self-deprecating laugh, Austin finally looks at me. I offer a weak smile, and the anger burning in his denim blue eyes quickly dims.

He pulls me into his arms and begins rubbing my arms vigorously. After a moment, he exhales a long, steady breath. “Sorry for being such an ass. But you scared the shit out of me.”

Relieved he is no longer angry, I lean in to his embrace, my entire body relaxing. I would be content never to leave this position. Inhaling the scent of salty sea, I say, “I scared myself, too.”

His chest rumbles under my head, but his quick laugh turns into a sigh. “Well, that was surfing. Guess it’s time to head on back.”

At that, I lift my head. “But why?”

“Uh, because you can’t swim? Or maybe because you just wiped out?” He leans back and looks into my eyes. “Princess, you can’t seriously be saying you want to go back out there.”

I pause to do a quick internal inspection: lungs working, head growing increasingly unclouded, heart rate normal…well, as normal as could be expected when I’m near Austin.

“While wearing the life jacket you mentioned, yes. Surfing was fun. At least it was until I fell into the ocean and believed I would die,” I tease, hoping that confronting the problem head on will ease the tension.

For a brief moment that felt like forever, I
did
believe I was in trouble out there. But I also meant what I said before: I know I am safe with Austin, possibly even more so now. His attentiveness after my fall proved that.

Bestowing upon him my most dazzling smile—the one that got my brother Cipriano to do anything I asked—I say, “I would like to try it again.”

Austin turns and stares out at the uncontrollable ocean, his compressed lips the exclusive indicator that he heard my request and is considering it. A wave rolls and crashes on the sand. With eyes still trained on the line of surfers in the distance, he says, “You know, I believe there may be a shredder in you yet.”

And the proud gleam in his eye when he does turn back gives me all the confidence I need.

Chapter Twenty

Headlights dance across the streets of West Hollywood. Unlike at home where curfews reign and roads are quiet, California comes to life at night. Not that it isn’t alive during the day, but despite the growing late hour, people here gather. Bright lights buzz. Colorful, flashy cars race one another, squealing and stirring up the night air. A gust of it skims over my bare shoulders, sending a shiver down my arms. I pull on the hem of the red dress I bought a few hours ago with the money Cat generously made me carry and wonder, not for the first time, if perhaps I should’ve gone with a different style. One with slightly more fabric.

Behind me, music pounds the darkened windows of Lyric, the crowded club Austin suggested for the rest of tonight’s challenge. The vibration tickles my back. I look to my left to see if I can spot Cat past the line of people awaiting entrance, and instead catch Austin’s eye a few feet away. He flashes me one of his devilish grins, and just like that, my body temperature rises, dulling the chill.

“Cold?” he asks, subtly bobbing his head to the loud music coming from inside.

I shake my head, then grin. “Well, perhaps a little. Cat and Lucas should arrive soon, though.”

After the second time I left school without telling her, Cat asked if I could keep her apprised of any new misadventures. When Austin suggested we come here, I immediately grabbed the cell phone she’d thrust at me this morning, knowing I should inform her. But as the phone rang in my hand, I realized this provided an excellent chance to further my own goals as well—assisting Cat in following her heart with Lucas. Of course, when issuing the invitation to meet us, I didn’t confide the additional member I hoped would be joining our party.

Sickly sweet perfume claws at my nose, a distinct, un-Cat-like scent. A group of girls around my age slinks past on their way into Lyric, all four of them poured into dresses much shorter—and tighter—than my own. One of the girls, a slender brunette, puts a hand on the arm of the heavily muscled gentleman manning the door as her friends take their place at the back of the line. He rolls his dark eyes as the door opens behind him, sending music bursting onto the sidewalk.

The tallest of the group, a gorgeous redhead wearing the highest heels I’ve ever seen, saunters back toward us. She slides a dismissive look over me before feasting hungry eyes on Austin. “Save a dance for me, handsome?” The flirtatious lilt of her voice sets my molars on edge.

The brunette near the door snickers, and she and the others exchange knowing smirks.

Jealousy pitches and roils in my gut. Anger burns in my blood. This girl is stunning, sexy, and wise to the ways of this century. She is everything I am not, and it’s clear that she rarely hears the word
no.
But though she may be accustomed to obtaining male attention everywhere else she goes, she won’t be sinking her red-lacquered talons into this one.

Before I can open my mouth to say so, however, Austin pins me with a look that says he knows exactly how I’m feeling. He bites off a smile, then with eyes trained on me, tells the temptress, “Sorry, but I’m only dancing with one girl tonight.”

The heat of his stare ensnares me, and a moment later, she walks away in a huff. Another group enters the building, the foursome among them, and the sound of the club softens.

We are alone again.

Inexperience has me wanting to look away from the intensity in his eyes, to break this silent moment we seem entrapped in, but the stronger part of me denies the weakness. I vowed earlier that I’d find a way to experience Austin’s kiss again, and right now, I cannot think of an opportunity more perfect to do so.

I take a step on the trembling high heels I also bought today, with the now-dwindling money in my borrowed purse. But every cent spent is worth it if it brings me closer to his lips. My chest feels as though a hummingbird is caged inside, the beat of its wings sending my pulse into an erratic rhythm. Austin watches my approach with hooded eyes, his long body casually leaning against the cold brick building of the club. His gaze traces the lines of my dress, the length of my bare legs, and the straps of my red shoes. When he looks back up, our eyes meet. My breath hitches.

“Less, is that really you?”

The astonished question asked in my cousin’s familiar voice breaks the magical spell. I blink and look over Austin’s shoulder to see Cat strolling up behind him. She gives my outfit a wide-eyed appraisal and laughs. “Wow, I’d say you’re definitely acclimating”—she glances at Austin—“to America. You look hot.”

Despite her horrendous timing, I lower my lashes and inwardly do a joyous twirl. Austin assured me that my previous jeans and shirt would’ve been suitable for our venture, but I wanted something more daring, so I asked him to take me shopping once our surf lesson was over. And I am glad I did. If the redhead inside is to be my competition, I want to look every bit the woman I have become.

Cat nods her head toward the beefy doorman guarding the main entrance. “So you guys ready to head on in and shake it?”

“Um, actually,” I say, stalling as I open my handbag and withdraw my phone, “not quite yet.”

I read the glowing time display and sigh impatiently. Just as I thought—Lucas is late.

Upon returning the phone to my bag, I lift my head to find Cat staring at me through narrowed eyes. “Less, what did you do?”

Just gave fate a little nudge.

Fluttering my lashes in total innocence, I say, “Nothing bad.”

She purses her lips. “Yet somehow I don’t believe you.” The sound of a rock skittering across the pavement grabs her attention, and the tension in her lips softens. I don’t have to look behind me to know the reason.

“Hey, guys, sorry I’m late. Parking was a beast.” Lucas sidles up to our group, and Cat elbows me in the ribs. He meets my gaze in a brief friendly greeting before bestowing his warm smile on my cousin. “Ladies, you look beautiful.”

Cat smooths nonexistent wrinkles from the skirt of her dress. I can almost feel the hum of tension between them. “Thank you, Lucas.” She looks to the ground, then back up and motions toward Lyric’s entrance, an almost desperate edge to her voice as she asks, “Everyone ready to head inside?”

I withhold my sigh, knowing that she has been hurt before, but send up another silent prayer that she will soon choose to leave that in the past. I take a step toward the door and come to an abrupt halt when Lucas says, “Actually, Cat, I was hoping I could talk to you first.”

Hope surges through me. With a grateful glance to the heavens, I turn to see Lucas tapping what appears to be an odd-shaped painting against his thigh.

Cat swallows nervously. “Me?” She grabs my arm, yanking me back as I try to give them privacy, and shoots me a look that clearly says,
Stay put
. Shrugging, she says, “Sure, what’s up?”

Lucas scratches the back of his neck, glancing at Austin, then at me. I offer him an encouraging smile. With a short laugh, he presses on. “Look, I know you’re probably used to guys falling all over you. You’re beautiful and funny, and you’re talented as hell. You can have anyone you want, and there’s no doubt you deserve someone better than me, but that’s not gonna stop me from trying, anyway.”

My cousin inhales a deep breath, and my previous hope turns into pure joy as I realize Lucas is finally declaring his feelings.
Thank you, Signore.

“Cat, the night I met you,” he continues, “everything clicked into place for me. The move to the States was suddenly a blessing instead of a curse, and life made sense again. I won’t pretend to understand why you’re so determined to fight the feelings I know you have for me, too, but I just wanted you to know that I’m here.” He takes a step forward. “I’m not going anywhere.” He takes another step and brushes a strand of hair away from her face. “I felt something between us the night of your party, and I feel it between us now, and I’m not gonna give up. Not until you tell me to.”

My heart melts, and I steal a look at Cat. She is as enraptured by Lucas’s words as I am. I bite my lip to contain my excitement.

Lucas holds out what looks like a small painting. “This is for you.”

Bewildered, Cat takes the odd painting. When she opens it, I realize it’s a box, containing a row of sharpened pencils, much like the ones she has on her desk. She bites her lip and looks up. “Art pencils?” Lucas nods, and she asks, “But why?”

“To let you know I see you. That I care about you. Hopefully when you do your next kickass sketch, you’ll use these and think of me.”

Her gaze drops to the box again, and she traces the cover with a trembling finger. “
Madonna and Child with Apples and Pears
.”

Even though the painting has yet to be created in my time, I know the name. It is the painting that launched my cousin’s fascination with the Renaissance. It’s what inspired the tattoo that she has on her hip and the piece that most likely prompted her to become an artist herself.

“How did you know?”

“I pay attention.” Lucas smiles, and when Cat raises her head in confusion, he explains. “You have a copy of that painting in your art folder. I noticed you look at it whenever you get frustrated in the middle of a project.”

He shrugs his shoulders as if his gift is nothing special, when I know that to Cat it means everything. Probably even more than his declaration. And when the lightest glow blooms across her cheeks and a smile breaks across her face, my heart soars.

All is going as planned.

“Thank you, Lucas,” she whispers. “I love it.”

She reaches back to hand me the present, and before I can even wonder why, she closes the distance between them, wraps her arms around his neck, and presses her lips to his. Delighted at the turn of events, I bounce on my toes and open my mouth in a silent cheer of joy, still grinning when she steps back a moment later and rubs her thumb over Lucas’s lips. He presses his forehead against hers and closes his eyes.

After giving the happy couple a moment, I playfully bump my cousin’s shoulder, completely pleased with my success. “Now I’m ready to shake it.”

Cat laughs. She twines her fingers with Lucas’s and pulls him toward the entrance. Austin waves his hand forward, amusement shining in his eyes. “After you, Cupid.” We slip inside the dark, hazy club.

Inside the dark, hazy club, it takes a moment for my eyes to adjust to the dim light. When they do, I’m surprised to find that instead of an overcrowded room, we are in a small hallway. The walls are black, the carpet red. On one side, a weary woman waits behind a sign asking for patrons’ jackets, and on the other, tucked just inside the door, stands a bright-eyed woman behind a cracked wooden counter. Cat grabs my elbow and pulls me to a stop.

“That was quite tricky inviting him tonight,” she says, giving me an indulgent grin. I follow her gaze to Lucas, talking with Austin a few feet behind us, a dazed look still on his face. “You’re determined to see the two of us together, aren’t you?”

“No.” Clearly unconvinced, Cat pins me with a look, and I rest my head on her shoulder. “Determined to see you happy.”

She looks at Lucas’s present, shuddering with an indrawn breath, and I smile. She deserves to be happy—even when she refuses to make it easy for me to make her so.

Cat places a swift kiss on the top of my head as the guys join us. Opening her purse, she puts away the pencil case and pulls out her wallet.

Austin waves her off. “Tonight I’m buying.”

His authoritative voice carries over the pulse of the music pouring from the curve in the wall ahead, and Cat lifts her hands. “Hey, I’m never one to pass up a free ride.” She deposits her wallet back in her bag and shoots me an approving nod. “Thanks, Austin.”

Settling a searing palm on my waist, he leans over to give the woman behind the counter a handful of cash. “We’re all under eighteen,” he tells her.

Nodding, she grabs a strange object and shoves it onto a dark pad. “Hands, guys.”

As Cat lifts hers and receives what appears to be an instant tattoo on her skin, Austin doesn’t remove the hand he has around me. In fact, he presses closer. Heat from his palm scorches the thin cotton of my dress, and my body melts back against him.

I don’t know if it is the stuffiness of the enclosed room or the feel of Austin’s hard chest behind me, but perspiration prickles at the nape of my neck. He thrusts his other arm out to receive the ink tattoo, and the scant space left between us vanishes. The scent of his newly applied cologne envelops me. My senses heighten. My silly heart dances in my chest.

“Alessandra?” Austin asks a moment later, the dark notes of his voice laced with satisfaction. I look up, and he lifts his chin at the woman behind the counter. “She needs your hand.”

I swallow hard.
And I need a massive fan with which to cool my heated flesh.

In lieu of one, I exhale a strong puff of air, lifting the dampened tendrils off my face, as I raise a shaky hand. “Of course.”

Once we have all received
stamps
declaring us underage—Cat explained the concept the other night at dinner when I mistakenly asked for a glass of wine—we follow the red carpet down the hall and cross the threshold into Lyric.

A lit-up stage at the back of the room catches my eye. Bodies sway on the darkened floor before it, moving in cadence to the powerful beat of the live, screaming band. Overhead, a series of tracks and small boxes bathes the entire space in diffused shades of amber and red. And running the length of the wall nearest us is a glossy mahogany bar. Cat steers me in its direction.

“Boys, we’ll be right back.” The look in her eye, more than the suspicious tone in her voice, says she’s up to something. “Just have to make a quick stop in the ladies’ room.”

As we walk away, Lucas heads for a set of unoccupied chairs edging the dance floor. He pulls four together and then sets a black boot on one of the rails. Leaning an elbow on the thin ledge holding various bottles and plastic cups, he turns his attention to the hypnotic pulse of the dance floor.

Austin remains where we left him, following my progress with curious eyes.

BOOK: A Tale of Two Centuries
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