How long could she hide her love for him? She was suddenly scared as she glanced toward the enormous four-poster bed. Once she was naked in his arms, feeling him deep inside her, she
feared the truth would explode from her lips, and it might cost her everything.
He must never know. He could never know.
Unless...unless she could somehow heal him. Change him. Or was that just her foolish heart believing what she wanted to believe, instead of cold reality?
Lowering his head to hers, Stefano kissed her passionately. She sighed, lost in his embrace. But, as he started to lead her toward the bed, she nervously pulled away, pretending to be interested in the shelves of leather-bound books stretching up the opposite wall.
“So many books,” Tess said awkwardly, touching their spines. “They all look so old.”
“They are, I suppose. I’ll show you the library downstairs sometime,” he replied in a low voice, pulling her back into his arms. “Thousands of books, some of them a thousand years old.”
Her jaw dropped. “A thousand?”
His sensual lips lifted into a smile. “I love how innocent you are. The smallest things impress you.”
“A small thing—a great room full of books a thousand years old!”
Stefano shrugged. “Small.”
“Then what on earth would you call amazing?”
Lifting his hand to her ponytail, he pulled out the tie, and her red hair came tumbling down the back of her cotton sundress.
“Having you in my bed,” he whispered.
Lifting her reverently in his arms, he carried her to the enormous four-poster bed. As he lowered his head to kiss her, she felt a sea breeze come in through the open window, scented with jasmine and exotic spices from distant shores. She felt the roughness of his jaw against her skin as he whispered words like an Italian invocation and kissed down the length of her body. Slowly he removed her clothes, and then his own. He made her feel she was on fire, lit from within.
And through it all, with every beat of her heart, came the rhythm of the words she longed to say.
I love you. I love you.
But the last time she’d said those words, Stefano had left, intending never to return. Just because she’d said, I’m already falling in love with you.
Strange. At the time, she’d honestly believed her words. She’d thought she knew what love was.
Looking back, Tess realized she hadn’t known at all. She’d just been in love with the idea of love, and dazzled by a romantic, sensual night with the most handsome, powerful man she’d ever known.
Real love was different.
It wasn’t flowers or jewelry or poetic words. It wasn’t the fairy tale of a grand wedding or becoming a princess in a castle. It wasn’t even spectacular, mind-blowing sex.
Real love was quieter.
It grew when you weren’t looking. From moments of laughter, of sharing. From small kindnesses. Like all the little things Stefano did that he thought she wouldn’t notice, not just for her, but for others. For his employees. For his hometown. For their child.
Despite his attempts to hide it, she’d discovered his deepest secret. Stefano’s title might be Prince, but in his heart, he was something even better.
He was a good man.
She knew him now, perhaps better than he knew himself. She knew him, and she loved him.
Did she dare tell him? Would that be foolhardy—or brave? Would her honesty ruin their fragile happiness? Or would it be the start of a life more joyful than either of them could imagine?
As Stefano held her in his arms that night, as she felt the weight of his body over hers and the soft Sicilian winds blowing in from the balcony against their hot skin, she felt tormented, even as she shuddered with pleasure beneath the slow stroke of her husband’s hands.
Until, when he pushed himself inside her, making her cry out with ecstasy, she could take it no more. As he shuddered into her with a low roar, she gripped his shoulders and looked straight into his eyes.