Treasured Secrets (EBOOK)

Chapter 1
Rosalina breathed in the crisp, salty air, trying to eradicate the torment racing through her mind. During her short walk to the marina, she usually planned her meals for the day.
Not today, though.
Not when she’d laid awake most of the night worrying about Archer. She’d tried to talk to him many times about his nightmares. But he refused to open up. Last night’s nightmare was one of his worst.
How much longer could they live like this? Months? Years?
And how many more would the future hold? What kind of life is this?
The nightmares were parasites, every night nibbling at his sanity.
It was time to do something about them.
The smell of frying bacon wafting in the breeze snapped her free of the impossible questions and she turned her attention to planning today’s menu.
Heavy ropes clanged against towering masts of the surrounding boats in a creative staccato and she waved to familiar faces as she walked along the pontoon to Archer’s luxury, multi-million-dollar yacht.
Evangeline’s sleek lines showed off her power and shiny chrome railings proved she was loved.
Rosalina headed to her favorite place on the yacht. . . the galley. Archer would seek her out when his stomach rumbled enough. He always did.
Within minutes of fitting her apron, she whizzed around the kitchen with the skills she’d mastered at one of Italy’s most prestigious culinary schools. Although, her love of cooking came from her beloved Nonna, the woman who’d raised her and her five siblings.
Nonna’s constant mantra had been. . . ‘eat, then we talk’.
Food solved everything.
But that wasn’t always true. Not with Archer.
She opened the oven door to check on her pastries, and the sweet aroma of apples dusted with cinnamon sugar filled the galley.
She nibbled on the buttery pastry, hoping it would ease her apprehension. It usually did. Not this time, though. As a full-blooded Italian and a chef, that rarely happened.
But she was not one to procrastinate and at the sound of footsteps, she made up her mind to discuss the nightmares. Again.
She lost her appetite and put the half-eaten pastry aside.
Archer strolled into the kitchen. His white sleeveless t-shirt highlighted his healthy tan.
Rosalina drank in the lines of his nicely toned shoulders, just enough muscle to make her feel safe in his arms, but not too much to throw his figure out of proportion. She inhaled his musk-scented cologne as he kissed her cheek and reached for a still steaming pastry.
“Looks like it’s going to be a nice day.” She leaned against the counter, hugged her mug to her chest, and breathed in the full-bodied aroma, but her favorite coffee blend did little to settle her nerves.
His quick smile drilled a dimple into each cheek. “Sure is. There’s a nice breeze coming in, but it’ll be a hot one.” He bit into the pastry, but the heat had him sucking in air.
He never waited for her pastries to cool. Yet it didn’t stop him from devouring it in three more mouthfuls.
“Mmm, yummy.”
She smiled. “You’re the one that’s yummy.”
He picked her up, sat her on the marble counter, and parted her knees to ease his hips between her thighs. She wrapped her legs around him and hooked her ankles together, trapping him.
His eyes softened, and subtle creases curled at their corners when he smiled. “I’m sorry about last night.”
“That damn nightmare…” She let the sentence hang, hoping he’d respond.
“Did you get back to sleep?”
“Yes.” He drove his fingers through his blond curls.
“I know you didn’t.” She studied him, trying to read his mind. It was impossible.
The halo of gold flecks around his dark irises vanished. He released her ankles and stepped back; his jaw clenched.
She persisted anyway. “Honey, I really think you should see someone about what’s haunting you.”
“Not this again.”
“But it’s always the same dream. Right?” It was a trick question. She had no idea what the nightmares were about.
“Yes.”
“Are you being attacked or something?” She held her breath; her heart thumping as she waited for his answer.
He narrowed his eyes. “I know what you’re doing. But forget it. I’m not talking about it.”
“This is ridiculous, Arch.” She jumped down from the counter and tilted her face at him. “For three years you’ve been waking up beside me screaming, and I don’t know how to help.”
He grinned. “Lying next to your naked body helps.”
She cupped her coffee mug in one hand, placed her other hand on his chest, and stared into eyes that’d lost a fraction of their usual glimmer. “Let me in, Archer.”
“I told you, no.” He took another step back, shaking his head.
“Just tell me what it’s about. Are you being murdered?”
“No.” His tone implied she was being ridiculous.
“It’s frightening to see you like that.” She hesitated, her mind scrambling for the best way to make him open up. “You always seem so scared. If I knew a little, I could help.”
“It’s nothing like that. Just a shark attack.”
She searched him for signs of truth. Although this admission was huge, it struck her as strange. When they scuba-dived together, she’d seen him try to touch sharks many times. He was obsessed with getting close to them. Him having nightmares about sharks made little sense. “But you’re not scared of sharks,” she stated the obvious.
“Nope. It’s a stupid dream.” He reached for the necklace that never left his neck, wrapping his fingers around the unusual pendant. The heavy, gold piece was curved like a crescent moon and about the same size as his thumb.
As she’d done a hundred times before, she pondered its significance. It was another secret that frustrated her. Why won’t he talk about them?
She decided to push her luck. “Does the pendant have anything to do with it?”
Simmering distrust flashed across his eyes, and she instantly regretted the question.
“I’m not talking about it, so drop it.”
Rosalina sighed and placed her coffee mug on the marble countertop. The morning elixir had become bitter. Archer’s stubborn reluctance to trust her with the details of the nightmares and the pendant had her heart crumbling.
What could make them such guarded secrets?
The two things were linked somehow. . . the way he clammed up when she mentioned either of them was testament to that.
“We can’t go on like this, Archer.” Their love would never be whole if he couldn’t tell her everything. “You refuse to talk about two significant things in your life, and I go crazy thinking about them.”
“You don’t need to know. They mean nothing.”
Her heart slammed against her chest at his intense expression. “They mean everything to you, and that affects me. Your nightmares have us both crying in the middle of the night, and that damn pendant you refuse to take off just about knocks my teeth out every time we have sex.”
His eyes drilled into her. Rosalina had crossed a line.
But this was the argument they had to have.
“This is who I am, and I can’t change. Maybe it’s time. . .” He hesitated, the muscles in his jaw tightened, “for you to leave.”
Her stomach lurched. He’d said that so easily. As if he’d been searching for a reason to say them. “Is that what you want? You’d rather lose me than share your secrets? What the hell, Archer? Do you even love me?”
He folded his arms across his chest. “Right now, I don’t know.”
Her heart launched hammered in her chest. “Love isn’t something you can switch off. Either you love me, or you don’t.”
The coldness in his eyes scared her. Her chin quivered, but she fought her emotions. She wanted the truth and didn’t want her tears affecting his reaction.
She walked to the window, turning her back to him, steeling herself. “Answer me. Do you love me?” She held her breath as she stared out at the marina. His stony silence was sickening.
She spun towards him. “Will you ever let me into your heart?” She waited for a reaction. . . any reaction.
Archer appeared frozen, trapped in confusion. His usual smiling eyes darkened, and in that moment, Rosalina had her truth.
She tore off her apron and stomped from the galley. Tears spilled down her cheeks. By the time she reached the pontoon, her throat had constricted so much she could barely breathe. The smell of frying bacon made her nauseous.
Archer called after her, but she sprinted away, ignoring the stares from people along the marina.
Rosalina kept her pace until she reached the door to Archer’s apartment. Once inside, she jabbed the combination into the alarm panel and raced to the upstairs bedroom.
Archer would stay with the real love of his life. . . his luxury super yacht, Evangeline. And Archer did love her. He spent every spare moment refining the multi-million-dollar yacht, preparing her for clients with fistfuls of money and a sense of adventure. And that meant he’d be trapped onboard Evangeline for the rest of the day.
That gave her seven hours to get out of his life.
Anguish burned a hole in her heart. It was time to return home to Italy.
Resisting the urge to throw herself onto the bed and cry the day away, she went into the restroom to splash water on her face. The mirror reflected her bloodshot eyes and fighting back tears had brought out the small scattering of freckles across her cheeks. Eleven freckles in total. They weren’t there when she’d left Italy nearly five years ago.
It was over.
Everything was over. . . her relationship with Archer and her dream of living in Australia forever. She couldn’t live in the country she’d grown to love without him. It would never be the same.
With Archer unwilling to open up and trust her, she realized that leaving this all behind would mean sacrificing not just her relationship, but the very essence of who she had become. The thought of losing that part of herself was almost more than she could bear.

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