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AFTER, HE CARRIED HER into the house, past the room where Samantha lay sleeping, to their bedroom and their canopied bed overlooking the sea.
Gently, he lay her in the center of the white sheets, came down beside her and drew her into his arms. Tally put her face in his neck and sighed.
“I love it here,” she said softly.
“I’m glad.”
“The house is so beautiful. And the sea…I’ve never seen a sea this clear.”
Dante smiled as he stroked his hand gently up and down her spine. “There’s a beach on the Mediterranean where you can stand knee-deep in the water and watch tiny fish swim by like flashes of blue and green light.”
Tally tilted her head back so she could see his face. “Is that where you lived with your nonna? In a town by the sea?”
“Nothing so postcard-perfect, cara. I grew up in Palermo, on a street that was already old when Rome ruled the world.”
“It sounds wonderful. All that history—”
“Trust me, Tally. There was nothing wonderful about it. Everyone was dirt-poor, except for us.” He gave a self-deprecating laugh. “We were poorer than that.”
“Then, everything you have today—you built it all, from scratch?” She smiled. “The amazing Mr. Russo.”
He grinned, lifted her so that she lay stretched out along his length.
Well,” he said, “if you want to call me that—”
Tally rolled her eyes, brought her mouth to his and kissed him. “Don’t let it go to your head,” she said softly, “but you really are. Amazing.”
Dante framed her face with his hands. “What’s amazing,” he whispered, “is you.”
That brought her back to reality. “Dante,” she said carefully, “Dante, do you remember what I said the other night? That we have to talk.”
“I agree. We do.” His eyes grew hooded. “But not right now.”
“Dante. Please—”
“Please what?” He cupped her hips, eased her to her knees above him. “Please, this?” he whispered, and she felt the tip of his erection kiss her labia. “Tell me and I’ll do it. I’ll do whatever you want, inamorata. Anything. Everything…”
Then he was inside her, and words had no meaning. All that mattered was this. This…
This.
AN HOUR LATER, Dante eased his arm from beneath Tally’s shoulders, touched his mouth lightly to hers, slipped on a pair of denim shorts and went to check on Sam.
The baby woke just as he peeked into her room. When she saw him, she grinned, said “Da-Tay” and held out her chubby arms. Dante grinned back, picked her up and gave her a kiss.
“Hello, bambina. Did you have a good nap?”
“Goo’nap,” she said happily.
“I’ll bet you need a diaper change.”
“Di-chain,” Sam gurgled, and Dante laughed.
“You’re a regular little echo chamber, aren’t you?”
“Eck-chame,” Sam said.
Dante laughed again, put her on the changing table and replaced her wet diaper with a fresh one. Then he carried her through the house, into the kitchen, put her in the booster chair at the table while he filled a sippy-cup with milk. She liked it warm so he heated it in the microwave oven, tested a drop on his wrist, screwed the top on, plucked her from the booster, went out on the porch and sat down with her in his arms.
