La Vita Dolce Ch. 17

She couldn't bring herself to lay down. Her nerves were too frayed. She half expected Luca to burst in at any moment and kill them all.

Instead she pulled an armchair up to the large window overlooking the rows of grapevines and the drive up to the chateau.

She told herself that she was just watching the sunrise over the estate, not watching the driveway for a cavalcade of black SUVs racing up to the chateau to deliver her to her death.

She was so intent that she didn't hear the soft knock at her door hours later.

Gianni's gaze went immediately to the untouched bed, and then to the chair facing the window.

Natasha was there, staring out the window blankly, her legs tucked beneath her.

She started when she noticed him standing at her shoulder.

"Have you slept?" he asked her quietly, taking in her red rimmed eyes and the pallor of her face.

She shook her head. No.

Sighing, Gianni bent and lifted her into his arms. He sat her on the edge of the bed to tug off her boots. He unwound the scarf from around her neck.

He pulled her up into his arms once more and settled himself onto the bed, tucking her against his chest. "Sleep, Natasha," he soothed, lightly stroking her hair. "He won't find us here."

"How do you know?" Her voice sounded small, even to herself.

Gianni pressed his cheek against her brow. "Bertrand is an old friend of my mother's," he said quietly. "She was nothing like my father and neither is Bertrand. He's nothing like my father, or Luca, or me for that matter. He's a good man and we're safe here. You can sleep."

He tightened his arms around her. Natasha pressed her cheek against his chest, listening to his heart beat strong and steady. She let her heavy eyelids close.

Sleep. When was the last time she had been able to sleep without fear of Luca entering her room drunk—without worry what new hurt or humiliation that the next day might bring. It had been years. She instinctively wanted to reach for her purse and the pills within that would ease her into repose but she resisted the urge.

Gianni could feel her fighting sleep, struggling. He continued to hold her tightly, stroking her hair until her breath evened out and she let go of consciousness.

Only then did he allow himself to fall asleep as well.