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Today was their very last day.
The last morning she would wake up in Stefano’s arms. Tonight, after the gala, she would leave for London.
Today was the last day Stefano would be hers.
And even today, he wouldn’t truly be hers, she realized with a sinking heart. Within an hour or two, guests would start to arrive for the late-morning pre-polo breakfast. Annabelle closed her eyes, imagining beautiful, sultry socialites swathed in diamonds and miniskirts, and no doubt experienced in the ways of luring and pleasing a man.
Annabelle swallowed, blinking back tears. She’d never know again how it felt to be Stefano’s woman, to have him kiss her, to have him hold her in his strong arms as his da
rk eyes burned through her soul.
It had taken her thirty-three years to fall in love. Now, there’d be no more warmth. No more fire. No more Stefano.
Unless …
Unless what? a cold voice mocked. Do
you think if you tell him you love him, he’ll miraculously say he loves you, too?
Annabelle took a deep breath. Maybe.
Forget it, the voice mocked. All he’d feel would be pity.
I don’t know that. His eyes tell me he could love me. His body tells me he could love me. We might have a chance.
If you want to keep your dignity, the voice said scornfully, you’ll stay silent. You’ll walk away.
Stefano stirred in bed beside her, yawning. Still half-asleep, he instinctively pulled her close to his chest, wrapping her tightly in his arms. And how was it possible he already wanted her again? She could feel him hard behind her. Smiling in spite of her turmoil, she turned around in his arms.
She found his dark eyes looking down at her. His whole face shone with contentment.
“Buenos días, querida, “ Stefano said huskily. He leaned forward to kiss her.
She pulled away.
“I have to tell you something,” Annabelle said, entwining her hands in his. She licked her lips. “For all my adult life, being a photographer has been the only thing that made me feel alive and safe.” She looked back at him. “Until I met you.”
Stefano gripped her shoulders. “Does that mean you’ll stay?”
She stared at the floor. Her eyes stung as if pricked with needles.
Tell him, her heart pleaded.
Don’t tell him! her brain ordered.
“Forget about London,” Stefano said. His dark eyes glowed in the early gray light. “Forget your assignment in Argentina. Don’t leave, querida,” he whispered. “Stay with me.”
Annabelle’s whole body trembled. She didn’t know what to do. All she knew was that her choice at this moment would change the rest of her life.
Pushing away from him, she sat up in bed and rose unsteadily to her feet. Feeling dizzy, she paced five steps, then turned back to him. “Before we talk about that, there’s something I need to tell you first,” she said unsteadily.
“Sí?” He looked up at her.
Shivering, she grabbed her short silk robe with the colorful dragon and tied the silk sash around her waist. Pacing past the window, she glanced through the blinds. The delivery trucks were gone. Instead, she saw two polo players, and three young women in hats walking across the field toward an enormous white tent. Some of the guests were apparently so eager for the day’s events that they’d arrived unfashionably early.
Annabelle took a deep breath. “It will feel odd to have strangers here.” Her lips turned down grimly. “Your guests are starting to arrive.”
His voice was low. “I know.”
