"Mom, I need you to calm down," Amelia pleaded with her mother as soon as she had picked up the ringing phone. Jackson stood beside her, leaning against the white washed wall in the airport as Amelia looked like she was on the verge of tears at hearing her mother. Jackson's eyes remained focused on the watch on his wrist as he counted down the seconds. He'd told her that she had half a minute and for half of that time she had listened to her mother sobbing down the phone.

"Mom!" Amelia exclaimed and the sniffing died down. "I'm okay. I promise you that I'm okay. I can't explain what is happening...but...I'm going to be fine."

"How do you know that?" her mother snapped back. "Amelia, you're somewhere with a random man who...who has kidnapped you."

"He hasn't," Amelia promised her mother. "You can't know what is going on, but, we're going to be okay. Look, I'll talk to you-"

"-Times up," Jackson commented, grabbing the phone from her hand and slamming it back down onto the hook it came off. Amelia turned around, glaring at him as the back of both of her hands ran underneath her nose and she inhaled sharply, nodding at him as he began to lead them towards the gate which they were to go to.

"I didn't think that it would be this hard," Amelia informed him, her voice low and soft whilst Jackson continued to watch her, no emotion on his face and his features unreadable whilst she stood by his side, gulping loudly to contain the cries which wanted to escape her lips.

"That's why it's easier when you have no one," he said to her lowly. "You cut ties from people and then you can stop caring. It makes life easier."

"It makes life feel numb," Amelia told him. "To have no one to care about is lonely, isn't it?"

"Some people like to be alone," he informed her as they began to queue for the plane once again. Amelia remained silent, thinking about what he had said to her. So there was no one in his life. She had guessed that much from the way he easily upped and left without a second thought. Her staring at him wasn't helping him focus on not looking back at her. His eyes danced back down to her and she bit down on her lips, turning away and thinking about him.

Surely something must have made him like he was. No one was born wanting to be alone. No one naturally wanted to be left by themselves. No, she was sure that Jackson Rippner had something happen to him. She didn't air her thoughts. Of course, she didn't think that he would share anything with her. He'd brought her along on this mad adventure by default. He wasn't looking for someone to talk to.

And neither was she. She despised him. She hated his arrogant manner and the way he dismissed her opinion. She hated the fact he had held her hostage on the train. But, looking at him and standing close to him, she felt no hatred. She didn't feel any hostility towards him and she couldn't help but find that odd. Surely she should hate him.

"You're deep in thought," he suddenly told her and she looked perplexed for a moment as she handed the air hostess her ticket and passport before being ushered through.

"Just thinking about stuff," she told him and he pursed his lips. As long as this stuff wasn't finding a way to escape then he didn't really care what she thought about. Well, he wouldn't mind knowing, no matter how mediocre it seemed to her.

He took the aisle seat as per usual and she sat next to the window, ready for the final leg of their flight. She wasn't even tired. Sleep wasn't overwhelming her and her body clock was thoroughly messed up. She knew that much.

"When we're in Venice then I'll find a hotel," Jackson promised her. "You can even buy some clean clothes."

"No," Amelia shook her head at him. "You can buy me some clean clothes. I can't use my credit cards and you're the one with the money."

"Fine," he rolled his eyes. "I'll buy you some clothes."

Amelia smiled sweetly up at him, her teeth bared and her eyes wide through her glasses as she did so. "Good."

...

"Oh my God," she sighed, settling herself down onto the large double bed in the suite, her body slumping into the soft mattress whilst Jackson remained stood by the window, looking out onto the quiet street which showed some people making their way down to the main square where the local market took place. "This is like heaven. Thanks for the room."

"Well, we're sharing," Jackson told her and she sat up straight, looking at him as he looked back at her, his shoulders shrugging nonchalantly as he did so. "What? We shared a cab and a plane before. Having two separate rooms would have looked odd. We need to blend in."

"Brilliant," Amelia complained, standing up and shrugging out of her jumper, Jackson's shirt coming out from her skirt. He looked across to her, her braless sight causing him to look away and gulp once as she tugged at the buttons to his shirt.

"What are you doing?" he snapped at her as she rolled her eyes at him.

"I'm going for a shower if you're having this facade that we're some kind of happily married American couple," she spat at him. "You can go out and get me some more clothes."

"You're as bossy as a wife would be," he mumbled under his breath as Amelia waved a hand behind her and turned to the en-suite, his shirt pooling off of her body as she went.

"I'm a size six!" she yelled out from the bathroom and Jackson shook his head, grabbing the cash from his bag and hiding some of it in the vacant wardrobe under a handbook to Venice. He left the room, realising that it would be easier for him to go and get her some clothes instead of listening to her moan at him.

...

"I said a size six, Jackson," Amelia complained when he handed her the bag of clothes which he had bought her from some boutique down the road. He contained the thoughts inside of his head as she took a summer dress from him.

"They didn't have a six," he told her. "Besides, the conversion threw me. Sizes are different in Europe and I just wanted to get out of there."

"Well, it could look worse, I suppose," she told him from behind the bathroom door.

He settled himself down onto the bed, laying down and pushing his hands through his dark hair before she came back out, checking her reflection in the floor length wooden mirror. She felt a lot better after showering and changing into something clean. Sleep would be her next priority and then dinner. She knew that she had to try and get her body clock back on track.

"The hotel doesn't do food here," Jackson mumbled as he closed his eyes and felt his body relax. Amelia nodded, sitting on the edge of the bed and wondering if she should lie down.

"It isn't really a hotel then," she commented and Jackson had to bite his tongue at her complaints.

"There's a tonne of restaurants down the road in the plaza by the market. We'll go for dinner after a sleep."

"That's probably the best idea which you've had all day."

...

Apparently, Jackson had chosen a tourist trap to stay in. The restaurant was full of couples and families for the summer, all of them trying the local cuisine and being fussed over by over attentive waiters. Jackson had showered, feeling refreshed as Amelia remained in her summer dress, the red flowers splayed all over the strapless dress. Jackson's green shirt and black pants were just enough to keep him warm in the evening air which was still humid.

He'd watched as a waiter pulled Amelia's chair out for her and tucked her back in as he sat opposite her, looking through the menu as she did the same. They quietly ordered the same meal, Amelia meaning to give Jackson a lesson in Italian cuisine as they did so, just to annoy him.

He poured her a glass of wine, handing it to her as she sipped on it and he did the same, the pair of them lapsing into silence.

"You told your parents that you didn't think I'd kidnapped you," Jackson suddenly spoke, his voice low and soft for once as Amelia stopped her people watching and looked back at him, nodding in agreement as she did so.

"I don't think you have," she replied. "I came here with you. I could easily have left. I'd like to consider it a mutual decision that I'm here."

"Well, I've never really had company," Jackson mumbled and Amelia grinned at hearing that from him. Somehow, she wasn't surprised.

"Don't you have anyone?" she finally asked him and he shook his head at her.

"If I did, do you think that I'd be out here with you?" he asked; his voice slightly harsher than he had meant it. But, Amelia had thick skin. She wasn't intending to let him upset her. She knew that it wouldn't do anyone any good.

"Something must have happened to have made you this way," Amelia spoke and he shook his head at her, a grin creeping up to his lips as he did so.

"If you're looking for me to tell you a story of how I lost my parents when I was a child and so came to hate everyone then you'd be waiting a long time. Or maybe you'd prefer it if my heart was broken?" he wondered and she shook her own head, scoffing as she listened to him.

"I don't think that it would be possible for you to admit to having a heart," Amelia joked and Jackson remained tight lipped, thinking about what she had just said and he shook his head, silently disagreeing with her as he did so. "I think that you don't have a conscience either."

"Why would you say that?"

"From what I can see you feel no regret about anything which you've done or anyone who you're hurt," Amelia sipped on her wine, the alcohol making her feel slightly braver than she felt. "You carry on with your life and what you're doing without even a shred of respect towards anyone else. I doubt that you've ever done something kind in your life."

"I came back for you," he reminded her.

"One kind thing can't make up for years of what you've done."

"Next thing you tell me is that I'll be going to hell," Jackson snorted and Amelia shrugged, smirking as she did so.

"I think it may be a possibility," she admitted to him before a woman approached their table, a basket full of roses on her arm as the pair of them looked up. Amelia noted another couple on the small table next to theirs, the man handing the woman the rose and her face lighting up as Jackson complained.

"If you don't buy one then I will," Amelia said, a false smile plastered onto her face for the sake of the old woman. Jackson looked back at her with a raised brow.

"Why?"

"Because she's an old woman trying to make some money," Amelia informed him and Jackson resisted the urge to roll his eyes, grabbing five euro's from his pocket and handing it to her as she passed him the rose and motioned to Amelia who pushed her glasses further onto her nose.

"Lei รจ incantevole. Non lasciare mai andare," the old woman spoke, motioning for him to hand the flower to Amelia before she scurried off.

"What did she just say?" Jackson wondered and Amelia rolled her eyes at him.

"Italian isn't my strong point," she dryly told him and he frowned before passing the rose over to her.

"Here," he said ruefully, his hand catching against hers as he passed it and she tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear.

"Thanks, honey," she responded with fake enthusiasm and Jackson chuckled before their meal was served.

The pair of them managed civilised conversation for the meal. Jackson constantly looking around for anything which could be a risk to them as Amelia commented on the spices and herbs used in the food. All he cared about was that it tasted nice. The end of the night came and Jackson stood up first, dropping his money onto the table for the bill as Amelia stood with him, his hand resting on her back and guiding her through the crowds of tourists in the plaza.

"I've been thinking," Amelia admitted to him and he looked down at her, ready for her thoughts.

He took a step to the side as she continued to look through the Italian culture in the hyperactive market place, lights illuminating and dancing around them as they did so.

"I don't think you're as bad as you like to think," she suddenly said and Jackson became aware that she had drained off just over half a bottle of local wine. "I mean...you came back for me, didn't you? I think...I think maybe you can be someone better..."

"I think that you've drank far too much," Jackson informed her and she shrugged, biting down on her bottom lip as she did so.

"Perhaps," she admitted back to him. "But I'd like to think I was right."

"Why?" Jackson asked her as a man walked straight through the middle of them and Jackson grumbled, moving closer to her and hooking his arm around her waist, stopping them from being separated. "What makes you think that I want to be someone better? I'm happy the way I am."

"On the run from your own firm?" she wondered. "I don't think you are, Jackson. Either I saw a shred of goodness from you earlier or I'm just an exception to your rule. I think the former one is more amiable."

Jackson remained quiet, silently thinking to himself how the latter seemed more appropriate.

...

A/N: Still loving writing this story! Anyway, thank you to trudes193 and LivinJgrl123 for reviewing! Do let me know what you all think guys!