Total uproar took over the ballroom. Giulia, standing behind him, had a shocked, slack-jawed expression as Alex turned and took the small crystal “award” from her limp hands. Smiling, he kissed her on the cheek, as if to say Checkmate.
Coming down from the stage, it was a very different affair. People who’d glared and hissed earlier now stampeded over themselves to shake Alex’s hand vigorously, thanking him for his generosity and telling him what a fine fellow he was, leaving Rosalie to wonder if it all, really, was only about money. It took some time for Alex to reach their tiny table. His dark eyes glinted as he held out his hand.
“Let’s go.”
Rising from her seat, Rosalie took his hand gratefully and let him lead her through the crowded ballroom. He didn’t stop to speak to anyone, until a plump, dark-haired woman threw herself desperately into his path, pleading in Italian.
“Yes,” Alex replied in English. “I meant it.”
Looking at Rosalie, the woman switched to English. “Thank you. Thank you so much.” She seemed near tears. “You don’t know what this will do for us. My husband, he left no money, you see, and we have two young daughters—”
“Signora.” His voice was gentle as he took the woman’s hand. “I am glad to help you. My lawyer will contact you tomorrow. I wish you and your children well.”
Then he pulled away, leaving her in grateful tears. Crowds of well-wishers started to gather around her as they left through the door.
Rosalie looked at him. “That was Carraro’s widow?”
He shrugged. “She was innocent in all of this.”
They left the building through a quiet side entrance, into the deepening night. She felt the welcome blast of cool air against her overheated skin. Above them, stars twinkled.
Alex didn’t let go of her hand. They walked in silence down the slender sliver of Venetian alley. When they reached a deserted bridge crossing a dark canal, she stopped and looked at him.
“So you’re just giving away Chiara’s money.”
“Yes.”
“What about her land, where you’ve already invested so much time in the vineyard?”
“Ah. That’s different.” He gave a smile. “But even that, I will buy from her estate at a fair market price. And it will go to the musicians.”
“Buy back something you already own...” she breathed. She shook her head, bewildered. “Why?”
Alex looked down at her. “Because I want to be free of her. Truly free. And it’s the right thing to do.”
Rosalie felt tears rising in her own eyes. “You’re driving me crazy, do you know that?” she choked out. “Why are you so amazing? Why are you everything I’ve ever wanted, everything I know I’ll never have? It’s not—”
But she cut off the last word, because Alex was right. Life wasn’t fair. She should have learned that long ago.
She turned away, trying not to let him see her tears. Alex
stopped her, roughly pulling her into his arms.
“But you do have me, Rosalie,” he said huskily. “If you want me, I’m yours...”
And he lowered his head hungrily to hers.
His kiss was passionate, hard, full of desperate yearning that matched her own, as she clung to him on the moonlit Venice bridge.
When he finally pulled away, he said words she never imagined she’d hear from him in a million years.
“Marry me, Rosalie,” he whispered.
Her lips parted in a gasp. “You said you’d never marry again...”
“I never intended to.” Alex cupped her cheek. “But I want you in my life. Not just for a one-night stand. You are the mother of my child. I don’t want you to find some other man. I want you to be mine. My wife. Now and forever.”
Forever. Her heart turned in her chest. “But you don’t...love me.”