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“Both?”
Dante chuckle-growled as he pushed me back onto the bed. “Stop teasing me so I can give you your gifts and make love to you again.”
“I don’t need gifts.” I kissed the side of his throat. “Make love to me again.”
“I will,” he groaned, “but first, you have to put this on.”
He opened his fist in front of me.
I smiled at the silk scarf I knew so well.
I bit my lip. “I missed this.”
“I did, too. I carried it with me these last three months, in my breast pocket, close to my heart. Other than the memories that wouldn’t fade, this was the only piece of you I had. Well, there was one other. Open it,” he said, pressing the silk into my hand.
The silk had a weight to it. Not heavy, but something was wrapped inside. I held the scarf over my other hand and gasped at what came rolling out.
“Where? When? How long have you had this?”
Dante didn’t smile as he put the simple coral and shell bracelet from Barbados on my wrist.
“Since that afternoon in Barbados. I went back for it before I returned to the yacht.”
“There was so much going on then. I forgot about it.” I gently touched the inexpensive stones, touched that Dante had remembered.
“I didn’t. I wanted you to have this, Noemi. I wanted to give you your ‘one thing.’”
“I love it,” I said, shaking my head and kissing him gently on the mouth. “And I’ll treasure it always.”
I looked up into the dark eyes where in the past I’d seen fury, and anger, and lust, and sensuality. That morning, I saw something different.
“But you already gave me my ‘one thing.’ I have your heart.” I smiled at him. “And that’s all I’ve ever wanted.”
