Heart and the City Page 10

  "Oh, Ricco." She stroked his back. "You should've told me you were hurting so much."

  “Didn’t want you to come out of pity,” he gasped. “I didn’t think you’d come at all…. Sent you the file cuz…cuz—” He shuddered and hid his face in the crook of her neck. His skin burned.

  “You need to lie down in the dark,” she said firmly. “Sitting here will just make it worse.”

  He started to push himself to standing, refusing the hand she offered. When he was upright he went a shade paler still. Lea put her arms around him again. Now he accepted her help, leaning into her with a shaky sigh.

  Lea got him settled in the darkened bedroom, then retrieved the washcloth and ran it under the cold tap again. Ricco had curled up on his side, hiding his face from the trickle of light coming from the bathroom. His shoulders were shaking.

  “Honey, don’t cry.” Sitting next to him on the bed she rested a hand on his shoulder. He was in so much pain, she couldn’t bear to let him suffer alone. She was a doctor, she’d given an oath to help people. But it was more than that. This man had stolen into her heart, and now she found it impossible to close off her feelings. “Turn over, let me look at you.”

  After a moment Ricco rolled onto his back. His eyes were puffy and sore, and his gaze was laced with pain.

  She wiped his face and neck with the cloth. His eyes fluttered shut and silent tears escaped from under his lashes. Lea placed her hand against his face, and his hand came up to guide it onto his right eye. He sighed at the sensation of her cool fingers against the soreness.

  “You came.” His voice cracked. “I’ve got no right to ask anything of you, but I’m real glad. I blew it, again. I never mean to, but all I do is cause pain…to everyone, to myself…now to you.” He gave a shaky sob.

  “Let’s worry about that later.” Lea wiped away his tears. “Honey, I didn’t bring my kit. You have new pills, right?”

  He glanced in the direction of the bathroom. “Puked them back up.”

  “Do they work, though?” she asked. “When they stay down?”

  “When it’s not so bad.” He shrugged. “The new doctor gave me something else, too. Haven’t tried them yet. He said they’re for emergencies.”

  “Where are they?” she asked.

  “Bathroom cabinet.”

  Lea went into the bathroom. She spotted the small bottle on the first shelf. Lioresal, rescue medication. She took it back to the bedroom. “This is good stuff. Problem is, you need to not have vomited for an hour before it’s any use taking them.”

  “Yeah, I read the label.” He sounded exhausted.

  Lea thought. “Have you got any herbal teas? They’d help settle things down.”

  “Peppermint, I think?” he said. “You don’t have to stay.”

  “I know I don’t have to, but I want to.” She smiled at him, remembering when he had said the same thing to her.

  She pushed some locks off his forehead. “Close your eyes and rest. I’ll make tea.”

  “Hmm.” His eyes slid shut.

  Lea went up one level to the kitchen. She found the tea and put the kettle on. Then she located a plastic basin under the sink. When the water had boiled she carried mug and basin down to Ricco’s bedroom.

  Lea stopped in the doorway and watched him for a moment. Ricco had curled up on his side, legs drawn to his belly, hands knotted together, and resting on the pillow. He looked exhausted and fragile.

  A powerful surge of emotion coursed through Lea. She’d been afraid of him when he had rounded on that paparazzi, but that wasn’t the essence of Ricco Como. Pushed beyond endurance something had snapped, and while that was very real, very much a part of his personality, what she saw right before her now was much more real, if such a thing existed. A vulnerable, sometimes clueless guy who was sweet and kind and who had touched her heart in a way that nobody had in a long time.

  Something changed as she watched him sleep. She got it. Ricco’s life was not just a little different. His fame had changed his existence beyond recognition, and he’d not been in the least prepared for it.

  And what he had endured the last twelve months – the break-in, the cutting incident, the insistent fan interest – had affected his coping abilities. He would need to deal with the anger and the trauma, but aggression wasn’t naturally part of his character. Lea was no longer afraid.

  He stirred, and Lea’s train of thought was interrupted. She put the basin and tea on the bedside table. He turned to face her, looking disoriented. Lea sat down by his side. “You okay, honey? Feeling sick?”

  Ricco’s hand came to rest on hers. It felt hot and clammy. He shook his head. “My head hurts something fierce, tho.”

  “I’m so sorry, darling,” she said. “Let’s sit you up so you can drink some tea. And you’ve sweated through that shirt, shall I help you change?”

  “Thanks, doc.” He pushed himself up. “Tees are in the drawers over there.”

  When they had accomplished the tasks Ricco lay back and closed his eyes. Lea regarded him for a moment. He was still pale and sweaty but looked less sick. She took his hands and stroked his wrists.

  “You’re scared of me.” It was a statement, not a question, and it came so suddenly Lea was lost for words. Ricco glanced at her sadly. “I wouldn’t hurt you. I don’t know what that was. I’ve never done anything like that before. That guy, he startled me, and he said…he said some awful things, about you and the girls…he called you my ‘pretty little whores’. But I didn’t want to hurt him. It happened so fast.”

  Lea felt disgusted at the paparazzi's words. How could anyone be so callous? "I'm not scared, Ricco," she said.

  He turned his face away. “Maybe you should be.”

  “What?” She stared at him. “You just told me I didn’t have to be scared.” She sighed. “Ricco, we have to talk. I was going to leave this until later, but it can’t wait.”

  There was apprehension on his face. Lea looked away. If this should have any chance of success she couldn’t cave and let him string her along just because she felt sorry for him.

  “You have to tell me the truth,” she said in her firmest tone. “No hints, no insinuations. Don’t assume I know, and that I can guess the rest. I really don’t, and I can't. Remember, this is totally new to me. I have no experience with celebrity. My reality is science and facts. Not gossip and tabloids and concealment." She took a deep breath. "Do you want me to trust you? Do you want this to work?"

  He nodded. “I do want this to work, so much, you got no idea.”

  “Then talk,” she said.

  “What… what do you need to know?”

  “Do I need to be scared of you?”

  There was a pause. “I don’t know… I really don’t. Ever since that incident at my house I’ve felt strange. I’ve never been so scared in my life. And then the guy with the knife, and all these rumors, and people never leave me alone for a minute. I just don’t know. It’s like I never got time to think. And, I can’t talk about it, it’s like it’s choking me…not even to you, and I really want to.” He gave a shudder and gripped her hand tight.

  “What happened to the people who broke into your house?” she asked. He would need a guide or he’d never be able to tell her. “Did you press charges?”

  Ricco was silent for a moment. The tears that had been threatening spilled over. One rolled down his temple and into his hair. “I couldn’t. I just can’t face it. I…I sold that house. The police said it’s not up to me, under Canadian law…but the officers, they were nice. They gave the guys a caution…they’re still out there, though.” His voice cracked.

  "Oh darling," Lea said. "Do you want to hear what I think?"

  “Course.” His hopeful gaze went straight to her heart.

  “I think you should press charges. These people should be punished. But that’ll not solve your main problem.” She sighed. “You’re traumatized, it might be PTSD,” she said. “You need professional help. The migraines.” Lea placed her
hand against his temple. “They’ve gotten so bad because you’re stressed. And it’ll only get worse. So, will you see a therapist?”

  He hesitated. “I’m scared.”

  “I know,” she said. “But doing nothing is much scarier.” She intertwined their fingers. “And you don’t have to do it alone. I’ll be with you every step of the way.”

  Epilogue

  His head hurt much less, and sleep wasn’t far off. She lay curled up by his side, her hand still on his temple. The lights were off, what a relief.

  She’d agreed to stay the night. He’d believed her. From now on, she’d be there for him, stay with him through it all. She’d help him fight his demons.

  Those demons were old friends, he’d fought them many times. But the new ones were something else. They nearly destroyed him. They’d caused him to lose the most precious thing he’d had in a long time. A real person, a friend.

  More.

  Someone who saw him. Who didn’t care that he was Ricco Como. Who believed that he was a good man.

  Ricco Como, the product, a means to an end, making other people rich. That guy wasn’t around when Lea was with him. He’d not felt this much like himself in years.

  With her by his side maybe he could just be that guy again, someone he recognized. She didn’t mind his weirdness, she wanted to get to know the real him. And he wanted to show her who he was – someone worthy of that wonderful woman sleeping by his side.

  To be continued in Book 2

  Thank you!

  I hope you enjoyed the story. If you want to know what happens next with Lea and Ricco, the next novella will be out soon!

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  About the Author

  Cecilia Fyre is the pen name of a romance author trying out something new.

  She likes sunny, crisp autumn days. Cups of hot cocoa with little marshmallows floating on top. The roaring of the sea. Laughing until your face hurts. The silence when you curl up with a good book.

  Her stories are about people. Some of them are strange, some think they're boring. They all have secrets, they're all scared sometimes. Cecilia writes about life, about love. About how hard it is to do it right. Usually, there's a happy ending, or at least there might be one, someday.

  But life's not all sunshine and roses, and that's why Cecilia tells her stories.

  In the real world, Cecilia lives in England.

  You can find Cecilia on Twitter and Facebook.

  Also by Cecilia Fyre