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In the car during the drive Cristiano had rattled off some of the names of his neighbors and she’d been amazed, but never in her wildest dreams had she imagined anything like this.

It wasn’t just that Cristiano’s villa looked like a delicious marzipan confection, or that the lush gardens rivaled anything she’d ever seen anywhere, it was the view. She’d lived for years in the Côte d’Azur, enjoyed the sunshine, admired the pretty beaches but the view took her breath away. As you drove along the coast, you could see beaches and marinas, villas cut into the terraced mountain, quaint red-tiled roofs in charming fishing villages, but here at Cristiano’s home on the Cap, you could see it all, together, in one picture postcard view.

The green land curved around the azure sea, creamy stone buildings clustered at the water’s edge, their beige and pink stone topped by red clay tiles while narrow stone piers and walls provided protected beaches and shelter for yachts and fishing boats.

Cristiano turned, smiled a welcome at Sam as she reached them.

“How could you live anywhere else?” she asked, arms still wrapped tightly around her middle. She felt like a little girl presented with the prettiest bride doll ever. She could only look. Couldn’t bear to touch. It couldn’t be real.

He shrugged. “Monte Carlo’s close, convenient. It’s where the corporate offices for The Bartolo Driving School are and that’s where I spend most of my time these days.”

“So that’s what you do now?”

“I’m proud of the company. We’re an international racing school now with campuses and tracks in the United States, Brazil, and Italy of course. But we don’t just train for road racing, we’ve really moved into executive protection and antikidnapping courses where we work with corporations, executives, their families and staff teaching them to detect and deter potential vehicular confrontations and assault.”

Sam looked at him, intrigued, thinking of the kidnapping attempt at Gabby years ago. “And these are classes?”

“Four and seven day courses, and they’re popular. Our schools have wait lists for them right now. Think about it, nearly everyone would benefit from specialized training in maximum car control. While most people won’t ever need to know counterterrorist tactics, it’d never hurt to have more confidence behind the wheel.”

Gabby suddenly turned around. “Can I try?” She asked, pushing long dark hair from her face since she’d lost her hairband somewhere since leaving the plane. “I’d like to drive fast.”

“You mean drive safe,” Sam corrected.

Gabby grinned so hard her nose wrinkled. “No, fast. I want to go fast. I want to drive race cars, too.”

Cristiano smiled but Sam wasn’t amused. She shot Cristiano a sharp look. “This is your doing,” she reproached.

“She’s a Bartolo,” he answered, scooping Gabby into his arms. “It’s in her blood.”

Gabby wrapped an arm around his neck and took a deep breath. “I like it here. I like it very much.” She looked out over the blue and green vista before glancing at Sam. “I think you and Cristiano should get married and then we can all live here and be happy forever.”

Sam heard the hint of wistfulness in Gabby’s voice and it tugged on Sam’s heart. Gabby had never had a real family, and more than anything, Sam wanted that normalcy for Gabby. But marrying Cristiano wouldn’t make them a normal family. Sam had learned the hard way that marriages of convenience were marriages of inconvenience. They didn’t work.

“Let’s see about lunch,” Cristiano said, shifting Gabby in his arms. “I know the cook was planning something special.”

Gabby leaned toward Cristiano, cupped her hand around her mouth and whispered in his ear.

Sam had no idea what Gabby said but Cristiano began to laugh, a deep belly laugh that rumbled out of him. As he laughed, Gabby giggled, too and turning toward Sam, Cristiano shot her an apologetic smile. “Gabby just hopes it’s not Mrs. Bishop’s famous shepherd’s pie.”

After lunch, one of the young women Cristiano employed took Gabby down to the heated outdoor pool for a swim. Sam expressed concern about letting Gabby go swimming with a virtual stranger and Cristiano explained that nineteen-year-old Marcelle worked at one of the local hotel pools as a lifeguard during the summer. “Marcelle teaches many of the local children to swim, and I’ve known her and her family for years. Gabby’s safe, I promise.”

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