Fall From India Place
Samantha Young
The New York Times bestselling author of On Dublin Street and Down London Road returns with a story about letting go of the past and learning to trust in the future…
When Hannah Nichols last saw Marco D’Alessandro, five long years ago, he broke her heart. The bad boy with a hidden sweet side was the only guy Hannah ever loved—and the only man she’s ever been with. After one intense night of giving into temptation, Marco took off, leaving Scotland and Hannah behind. Shattered by the consequences of their night together, Hannah has never truly moved on.
Leaving Hannah was the biggest mistake of Marco’s life, something he has deeply regretted for years. So when fate reunites them, he refuses to let her go without a fight. Determined to make her his, Marco pursues Hannah, reminding her of all the reasons they’re meant to be together.…
But just when Marco thinks they’re committed to a future together, Hannah makes a discovery that unearths the secret pain she’s been hiding from him, a secret that could tear them apart before they have a real chance to start over again…
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It
thrilled me even more when he absconded with me down onto Princes Street to the
German market. It was there every December for Christmas, along with the small
fairground and the ice rink. We ate iced pastries, drank coffee, and held hands
as we shuffled through the crowds. As we were walking through the gardens, the
light fading, the Christmas lights twinkling all around, I smiled down at the
ice rink in the distance.
“That
looks fun.”
Marco
pulled me tighter into his side. “That looks cold.”
“I
used to ice-skate in the gardens every Christmas when I was younger. I don’t
know why I stopped.”
“Because
it’s cold.”
“It’s
worth it.” I grinned up into his face. “We should do it.”
“There’s
no way I’m putting my feet on ice.”
“You
won’t. You’ll put skates on ice.”
“There’s
no way I’m putting my feet in rented skates.”
I
stopped, probably annoying everyone who had to walk around us to continue down
the pathway. “Please,” I pleaded.
He
stared at me, completely unmoved.
Realizing
this was one occasion where being adorable wouldn’t work for me, I changed it
up. Instead, I raised an eyebrow at him. “You’re afraid to skate.”
“Reverse
psychology? Really?”
I
huffed, laughing half in amusement and half in annoyance as I pushed against
his chest. “Come on. I want to skate with you. We’ll be like a perfect,
romantic, Christmas card. Except not vomit-inducing.”
Fifteen
minutes later . . .
“Hannah,
I don’t think you should do that,” Marco warned, crossing his arms over his
chest as I showed off.
For
someone who was as big as he was and who hadn’t skated much, Marco had great
balance. He hadn’t fallen on his arse once, although he’d stuck to the outer
edges of the rink in hopes that I’d let him disembark soon.
I
was surprised by how easily skating came back to me, how quickly my body
remembered how to balance on the skates. I glided around the rink a couple of
times, passing a slow-moving Marco.
I
wanted to show him the spin I used to be able to do, but people kept getting in
my way.
“It’s
fine,” I promised him, smiling.
I
was having a ball. Seeing a gap in the stream of skaters I pushed back on the
skates in order to give myself space to move forward into the spin. To my
shock, however, I felt myself hit something solid.
An
“oof” sounded and then the solid weight collapsed behind me, taking my
balance with it. I stumbled around, letting out a yelp, as I swung my arms to
balance myself. When I turned, righted, my eyes bugged out in horror.
Unfortunately,
the something solid I’d hit was a girl who’d then crashed into a boy, who’d
crashed into a couple, who’d crashed into another young woman.
As
chaos reigned and limbs splayed I could only watch in mortification at the ice
rink devastation I’d created as other skaters skidded to a stop to watch them
all hit the ice like dominoes.
Groans
and curse words lit the air as the crashers all sat up. My eyes jumped from one
to the next to make sure there were no major injuries.
A
warm hand wrapped around mine and I found myself jerked back against Marco.
“They’re fine,” he said through clenched teeth and yanked on my arm. “Let’s get
you out of here. Now.”
Realizing
that was probably a good idea considering the murderous looks aimed my way, I
shot an apologetic glance at the casualties, who were regaining their footing
quickly, and I ungracefully slipped and skidded as I hurried after Marco off
the rink.
With
quick efficiency Marco got our skates off, our shoes back on, grabbed my hand,
and started hauling me back up toward Princes Street. We were only halfway up
the hill when he suddenly let go of my hand and looked down at me, appearing
ready to explode. And then he did.
His
laughter was loud and infectious, and he couldn’t seem to catch his breath. My
surprise soon melted into shared hilarity and I collapsed against his side,
giggling like a madwoman.
“Oh,
man.” Marco finally calmed, wrapping his arm around my shoulders. “I didn’t
realize you were such a klutz, babe.”
“I’m
not! I just . . . don’t have the best spatial awareness. Obviously.”
His
body shook with laughter again. “That’s the fucking understatement of the year.
Jesus, that was like a skit. You couldn’t have rehearsed it better.”
“Should
I prepare myself for a constant stream of teasing for the next few hours?”
“More
like years of it. Any time we see a pair of ice skates . . .”
I
harrumphed. “No one got hurt.”
He
snorted and I could tell he was trying not to lose it again.
I
punched him playfully. “You keep up the teasing, you’re not getting your
Christmas present.” I’d bought him a Blu-ray player since he’d said he didn’t
have one and I knew how much he loved movies.
Marco
looked down at me, pulling me in closer to his side. “You’ll still get yours.”
My
eyes lit up. “You got me a present?”
“Of
course.”
“I
like presents.”
His
gaze turned deeply affectionate. “Duly noted.”
Warmth
pulsed through me at the expression on his face. I held on tighter to him. “I
kind of like you. You know that, right?” His answer was to stop us in the
middle of the crowds again and kiss me like there was no one else around.
After
a lengthy, heated embrace, I pulled back to grin up at him. “You’re really
cool.”
He
grinned back. “Good thing one of us is.”
I
narrowed my eyes. “You have two hours to get the skating incident out of your
system, and then no more.”
“I
object. Two hours isn’t long enough.”
“It’s
plenty long enough.”
“The
length of teasing should be in proportion to the magnitude of the incident.
Babe, you just took out five people simultaneously on an ice rink. I’d say
that’s at least the first five years of our lives together. One year per
person.”
I
wanted to argue with the math, but I knew if our roles were reversed I’d be
taking the absolute piss out of him for it for years to come. “Fine,” I
grumbled. “Five years.”
He
hugged me to his side and started leading me up the hill again. “You do realize
you just committed yourself to me for at least five years.”
That
sneaky little . . . I
gave him a look of reluctant admiration. “Nicely played, D’Alessandro. Nicely
played.”
Posted by arrangement with New
American Library, a member of Penguin Group (USA) LLC, A Penguin Random House
Company. Copyright © Samantha Young, 2014.
New York Times bestselling author Samantha Young is a 27 year old book addict who graduated from the
University of Edinburgh. She lives in
Scotland.
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