“Especially after this,” he said softly. “Because now I know what true goodness is in your heart, that you would agree to make such a sacrifice for someone you loved.”
“Damian. There’s—there’s more.”
His mouth was gentle on hers.
“Later.”
“No. No, now. I have to tell you now.”
“Later,” he said, and kissed her again, and then he lay her back against the warm sand, under the warm sun, and when he made love to her this time, Ivy wept again.
With happiness.
CHAPTER TWELVE
THEY spent the afternoon on the beach.
Damian had arranged everything. The picnic lunch brought them by Esias. The chilled champagne.
When the sun began its soft pink, purple and violet drop into the sea, Ivy smiled and asked if Damian had arranged for that, too.
“Because the sunset is perfect,” she said softly, resting her head on his shoulder as she stood in the curve of his arm, “just like this entire day’s been perfect. It’s beautiful enough to put a lump in my throat.”
“You are what is beautiful, kardia mou,” he said, drawing her closer. “And I love you with all my heart.”
She hesitated. “Even after what I told you?”
“Neh. Yes. I told you, especially after that. I only wish it had never happened to you, sweetheart. The ugliness of it. The pain—”
“You took it all away, that first time we made love.”
Damian turned her toward him. “Ivy. I want you to promise something to me.”
She smiled. “Just ask.”
“Never be afraid to share anything with me, glyka mou. Your hopes, your dreams…” He ran his thumb lightly over her mouth. “Your darkest secrets,” he said quietly. “I will love you, always. Do you understand?”
And, just that quickly, she remembered what she had tried to forget during the long, glorious afternoon.
The final truth.
The last secret.
How would he deal with it? He’d understood why she’d agreed to carry a child of Kay’s, but could he understand this?
Not even she understood it. Yes, Kay had been frantic. Yes, there’d been no time to think. And, yes, considering her own plans for the future, her conviction she would never want to make love with a man, that she’d surely never, ever marry, it had made a crazy kind of sense…
“Ivy. Why such a sad look in your beautiful eyes?”
Ivy ran the tip of her tongue over her lips. “There’s one last thing I have to tell you, Damian. I tried, hours ago, but—”
“But,” he said huskily, “I was more interested in making love than listening.”
He smiled. She did, too. Then she rose on her toes and pressed her lips to his.
“Let’s go back to our bedroom.”
“A fine idea.”