After the talk with her father, Valentina went out into the gardens to quietly revel in this unexpected, but much desired, turn of events.

Because hip, hip hooray! Free at last!

Valentina was distracted from her happy thoughts when she felt her phone begin to vibrate in her pocket. She laughed out loud when she saw the irreverent, loving, and funny text, telling her that her cousin had made it safe and sound to the other side of the Atlantic. Only Gia would be able to wrangle herself into a first-class seat next to a very good-looking and high-profile quarterback on his way to Italy for an endorsement photo shoot. Gia ended the text: Silver Lining. The very best part of Gia being advantageously seated next to that hunk of a gorgeous NFL player was that he was sure to take Gia’s mind off Riker Devlin. Although Valentina had not had the stomach to look at any more texts between her cousin and the bad-boy, the giggle and blush on Gia’s face was a sure tell-tale whenever she was texting him. And it was happening a little too often as far as Valentina was concerned. But thankfully, no-one or nothing held Gia’s attention for long so Valentina felt sure the infatuation with Riker would wear itself out soon—probably before that plane landed.

Feeling exhausted by the whirlwind of events over the past few days, Valentina headed into the house. She stopped off at her father’s wine cellar and picked out a bottle of Luna di Miele to cap off her evening and hopefully lull her into a deep, dreamless sleep.

Valentina sighed wearily as she slipped off her shoes and made her way soundlessly up the long staircase. As much as she wanted to take Pauli’s trip at face value, she knew her father only too well, and she couldn’t help but feel that he was keeping something from her. She found it hard to believe that after months of having her uncle chained to her like a favored guard dog, suddenly that leash had been severed with seemingly little regard—especially after what had occurred at the clubhouse.

But it was bound to happen that sooner or later some business would distract Gianni’s uber-focus on her. While Valentina sent up a silent prayer to Saint George to protect her dad from his enemies, she couldn’t help but be thankful.

Of course, as all fathers should be, Gianni had always been a commanding presence in his daughter’s life, and god willing, he would continue to be one for many years to come. But Valentina had known for a long time now that she had to stop letting her father bulldoze her. The job in Haiti had been a huge step in that direction.

Yeah, and look how that turned out, Valentina frowned at the self-defeating thought.

She kicked shut the door of her bedroom, plopped down on the side of the mattress, and poured herself a large glass of wine. After taking a long sip, she went into the en suite and added a generous amount of scented oil into the tub. Valentina inhaled the heady aroma and began to undress. First, she unbuttoned her shirt, then she reached back and unhooked her bra. Exhaling a long-tired sigh, she gently rubbed away the slight irritation caused by the stiff crescent of the underwire cup before she dragged both pants and panties down her thighs. Then she strode naked back into the bedroom to throw her clothes into the hamper. With a press of a button, the rifts of George Winston’s piano music followed her back into the bathroom. The soft, lilting sounds hung in the air and mingled with the fragrant steam that rose from the jetted tub.

Valentina poised herself with one pedicured foot on the edge of the tub and one on the tiled floor before she gingerly began to ease herself into the warm, whirling water. 

Humming quietly along with the music, she took the thick sea sponge which was now heavy with gardenia scented bath gel, and concentrated on sliding the warm soap over the tight knot of muscles in the back of her neck. She lathered her hair with thick shampoo then dipped her head back to rinse in the scented water. It was like a test for her; each time Valentina dipped the back of her head into the water, she stayed prone like that a little longer, pushing her head back a little deeper. Eventually, she hoped to graduate to being able to totally submerge the back of her head all at once, even just for a second. Then she would tackle what her therapist referred to as The Big S.

That would be: Showers.

The saner, rational, more healed part of Valentina really missed showers, but the still damaged part of her recoiled at the thought of all that water trickling down on her face and onto her body. The very thought of it brought to mind the rivulets of mud and raw sewage that had been her constant companion when she was trapped. It had been like water torture—that dripping —and when the dry dust and unrelenting heat had cracked her lips and wrung every bit of moisture out of her body, she had been forced to …

Stay in the day, her inner voice gently urged her.

Obediently abandoning those dark thoughts, Valentina got out from the bath and snagged a cotton turban off the counter. While bending over at the waist, she coiled her hair in the thick, absorbent cloth. Then she padded across the tile to where she had left the bath towel warming on the wall unit. A shiver of pleasure coursed through her at being enveloped in the heated Egyptian cotton towel.  As the steam slowly dissipated, she considered herself in the mirror with a critical eye and sighed.

She was just on the other side of twenty-five, and every one of those years showed.  There were fine frown lines between her brows and dark smudges underneath her eyes. Her lips were red and puffy from the way she constantly bit at them, and her eyes looked sad even when she smiled. In one breathe, Valentina was worried that she would never forget about those days trapped in rubble, and in the next breath, she worried about what it would say about her if she did. 

Valentina only knew that her Catholic heart was filled with guilt, and she feared that her very soul was in peril.

Center yourself.

Valentina let out a long, fractured sigh and went over to the dresser where she kept her perfume bottles.  One deep sniff of Lily of the Valley and Roses kept her grounded. She had had the mixed floral scent specially made for her in Paris. The fragrance reminded her of spring and sunshine and fat red robins tweeting their early morning song. A little drop on her pulse points went a long way to calming her.   

But the perfume was not in its usual place. Thinking the bottle must have somehow fallen behind the dresser and rolled someplace, Valentina spent the next half hour growing increasingly more anxious as she searched every inch of her bedroom. To her utter confusion and dismay, she could not find the bottle anywhere. While Valentina knew for certain it could not have vanished into thin air, she couldn’t for the life of her figure out where it might have gone.