Outside the balcony window in the fresh air of morning, he could hear the distant cry of gulls, the sound of a speedboat on the canal and a low buzz of voices. Apparently the tourists were out early.
Rosalie felt good, too good, in Alex’s arms.
“How can you say it was your fault, Rosalie?” he asked in a low voice. “How could it be?”
“If I’d been there, I would have insisted my parents leave town immediately, at first word of the wildfire. I would have forced them into the car and driven them out of the valley before the fire picked up speed and crushed both sides of the road.” She wiped her eyes in a rough, jerky movement. “But I wasn’t there. I abandoned them, just because I didn’t love Cody and...” She turned away. “I was selfish. Evil.”
Stroking her hair, Alex said in a gentle voice, “Seeking your own happiness doesn’t make you evil.”
She shook her head wildly, her eyes glistening in the morning light. “My parents made the wrong choices without me. They tried to pack their things, they waited too long, until there was no escape. Cody managed to get his parents out. They lived. My parents...they died.”
Her voice choked off as she looked away.
Alex could hear the anguished love and loss in her voice. “It wasn’t your fault.”
“But—”
He kissed her cheeks, her forehead. “Your parents loved you, Rosalie,” he whispered. “They never would have wanted you to suffer. You did nothing wrong. It wasn’t your fault.”
He held her, comforting her, until he finally felt her relax in his arms, pressing her cheek against his shoulder. Then Rosalie looked up, her stunning brown eyes swimming in tears. “You know how it feels.”
He gave a single nod. “I lost my family too.” Even to his own ears, his voice was cold. “My older brother and parents died at Christmas.” Looking at the tears still glistening in her eyes, he forced himself to go on. “I’d promised to go home. But I couldn’t face their yelling and screaming. So they decided to take a ski trip instead, and crashed into a mountain.” He paused. “The jet I took to their funeral...it was my last one. After that, I suddenly couldn’t stand the sight of a plane, any plane, big or small.” He looked away. “And that was before birds flew into the engine of my sister’s plane in Chile. A plane she wouldn’t have been on if I’d gone to Boston in her place.”
His throat was so tight he couldn’t say more.
“No wonder you’re afraid of flying,” Rosalie murmured.
“Yes,” he said quietly. “I’m afraid.” He wondered if she had any idea how much that admission cost him. It was something he’d never said out loud before. “I lost them. All of th
em.”
“But the crashes weren’t your fault.” She put her hand on his cheek. “They were accidents. Tragedies. Why can’t you believe that?”
Looking at her, he said in a low voice, “Why can’t you believe that about the wildfire?”
For a moment, they looked at each other, cuddled so close together on the bed.
Dropping her hand, Rosalie said, “But your cousin—”
“Second cousin,” he corrected.
She scowled. “Why do you insist on doing that?”
“What?”
“Emphasizing that he’s a distant cousin. Pushing him away.” She shook her head, her beautiful face puzzled. “Is he such a horrible person?”
“No,” he was forced to admit.
“A liar? A thief?”
“No.”
“Then it’s his family you don’t like. His wife?”
Alex paused. He hadn’t thought too hard about why he avoided Cesare. He still didn’t want to think about it. But with his wife looking at him, in the early-morning light, he wanted to please her. He wanted to distract her with anything that wasn’t forcing him to explain how he’d destroyed his own family. He scrambled to think of a reason that might satisfy her about Cesare.
“It’s complicated” was the best he could come up with.