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‘I know that,’ she said woodenly, but there was no joy on her face—just that continued veiled look of suspicion. ‘On some level I always knew that was my winning card and that’s why I held onto it so tightly. You didn’t want anything more than that.’
‘You’re right. I didn’t. Until things started to change, without me expecting it. Without me even wanting it. I began to feel relaxed in your company,’ he continued softly. ‘To look in my diary to work out when next I could see you—but I forced myself to ration my time with you because I could not afford to let you become an addiction. But I was fighting a losing battle. And when Ididrework my schedule in order to surprise you—you told me you were busy. Do you remember?’
‘I was helping look after Jago that night.’
‘Ah, Jago.’ He nodded. ‘That lucky little baby.’
‘Lucky?’
‘Ma, certo,’he said, with emphasis. ‘To have an aunt like you. To battle for him. To help his young mother. That night when he was sick, my admiration of you knew no bounds. Do you realise that, Nicola? You didn’t need to conceal anything about yourself,cara mio, because in that moment you were more amazing than I’d ever seen you.’
‘You certainly weren’t showing much admiration at the time,’ she objected stubbornly.
Acknowledging her accusation, he nodded. ‘Lo so.I reacted badly because of the way you made me feel. Make me feel,’ he corrected. ‘Which is...’
Her grey gaze was steady, her features impassive. She was not helping him, he realised—and maybe that was a good thing.
‘Scared,’ he admitted at last. ‘All my life I had vowed to never let anything scare me because for me that indicated weakness, which was a trait I could not tolerate. But I am living with that feeling now—all the time—and there is only one way to rid myself of it. I have tried to forget you, Nicola, but that is impossible. I have tried to contemplate spending the rest of my life without you—but that is unthinkable. With you, I want all the things I never imagined wanting. To build a home. To have babies. But I still don’t know how you feel about such a prospect.’
Still she didn’t speak and he nodded, knowing he wasn’t done yet—knowing he owed her more. ‘I’m sorry for the way I behaved.’
She inclined her head. ‘I was always taught that if someone offers an apology, then you must accept it.’ She paused. ‘But only if they really mean it.’
‘From the very bottom of my heart.’
‘Then I am sorry, too,’ she said suddenly. ‘I should have trusted you, but I was scared, too. I should have let you see that I loved you, but I was terrified you would reject me and push me away. Oh, Alessio.’
His heart was pounding as he asked her again. ‘Does this mean you’re going to marry me, Nicola Bennett?’
She glanced at the ground before looking up again and as he met her grey gaze he realised what she really wanted. And even though his scientific brain regarded such a desire with perplexity—bemusement, even—the man who loved her wanted it, too. For wasn’t this the ultimate romantic gesture? Wasn’t this what men had done since they first started losing their hearts to women? ‘Marry me,cara.Il mio unico grande amore,’ he said, as he dropped down onto one knee. ‘My one and only love.’
And suddenly she was kneeling, too—not seeming to care about the damp step or the keen Atlantic breeze—and her arms were tight around his neck, her lips opening beneath his as she kissed him and kissed him, before breathing ‘yes’ into his mouth.
He wasn’t really aware of the journey from the doorstep to the bedroom or how many items of clothing they dropped along the way, only that her stockings were ripped at the knees and he didn’t feel complete until he had filled her with his seed. Quite literally. It was only afterwards that he realised it was the first time in his life he’d neglected to wear a condom.
‘What if I’ve made you pregnant?’ he demanded huskily.
Against his neck, Nicola giggled. ‘Do you know, I think I’d be over the moon?’
‘Me, too.’ He gave an unsteady laugh. ‘How crazy is that?’
‘Totally crazy,’ she agreed solemnly, turning to stare at the wide sweep of sea outside the window and thinking how beautiful it was. ‘Why did you buy this house?’
‘I haven’t bought it—that would have been too presumptuous. I’m renting it, but it can be ours any time you want. You told me you didn’t like skyscrapers and had always wanted to live by the sea, but we can live anywhere in the world. And, of course, we need to take your family into account.’
‘My family?’ she echoed tentatively.
He nodded. ‘I can help your brother find work when he gets out of prison.’
‘What sort of work? His CV is terrible!’
‘He can learn a trade,’ he said gently. ‘He can find out what he’s good at and use that. Because it’s never too late to change. To start again. Or to fall in love. Life is whatever we choose to make it, Nicola—and I choose to make it with you.’
And suddenly she was crying, only this time he wasn’t freaking out because she was displaying unwanted emotion—he was drying her tears with his fingers and his lips. And he was crying, too.
EPILOGUE
THISHOUSEWASbeautiful all year round, but Nicola loved it best in autumn. That was the time when the sun set straight in the west, dancing on the waves and flooding their bedroom with a rich, flame-coloured radiance. It was pouring in now, warming her skin and making it glow.
