Of course.
It was Christmas. Christmas! The bells were heralding the start of the holiday, singing of joy, of wonder…
Of miracles.
Tears streamed down Tally’s face. She’d had her own miracle. A man. Proud. Strong. Protective and, yes, loving. And she’d let that miracle slip through her fingers out of cowardice. She’d been afraid to tell him about Sam.
And terrified to tell him about herself, that she loved him, that she’d always love him, until it was too late.
Almost too late, she thought, and drew a ragged breath.
Tally threw back the covers and rose from the bed. Her footsteps were hesitant at first but they quickened as she ran from room to room.
“Dante,” she said brokenly, “my beloved, where are you?”
The bells rang out again, just as she hurried into the sitting room. A beam of ivory moonlight illuminated the French doors that led to the beach. Tally flung them open—
And saw Dante, just as he turned toward the house.
“Dante,” she said, and she began to run across the sand, “Dante…”
Moonlight touched his face. She saw love, understanding, the same hope that burned in her heart, and she flew into his embrace and clung to him.
“I heard the bells,” she said, crying and laughing at the same time, kissing his mouth as she rose to him, luxuriating in the racing beat of his heart. “I heard them calling and I thought, I can’t lose him again, I can’t, I can’t, I can’t—”
“I love you,” Dante said fiercely, cupping her face in his hands. “I’ve always loved you, inamorata, but I was too proud—and too afraid of needing you—to admit it.”
“And I love you,” Tally said, “I always have. It’s why I left you three years ago. The thought of having you end things between us was more than I could bear.”
“I was a fool, cara,” he said, tightening his arms around her. “How could a man end what is destined to last through eternity?”
Tally laughed through her tears. “Is that all?”
He smiled, too. And then his mouth was on hers, the taste of her tears was on his lips, and as he lifted her into his arms and carried her to the house, the bells rang out, telling the world that miracles are always possible.
All you have to do is believe.
SOMETIMES, HAVING WEALTH and power and all the right connections really did pay off.
They flew back to New York early in the morning the next day, Tally wearing the diamond solitaire Dante had bought for her in the Caribbean.
“It’s beautiful,” she whispered, when he slipped the ring on her finger.
“Not as beautiful as you,” he said, and kissed her.
All the municipal offices were closed, but such details weren’t enough to put a crimp in the plans of Dante Russo.
“I know someone who knows someone who knows someone,” he said, laughing when Tally rolled her eyes.
“Such arrogance,” she said, but her smile, her voice, her eyes shone with love.
By noon, they had a wedding license and a judge who said he’d be happy to marry them in Dante’s penthouse.
By one, the penthouse was filled with Christmas garlands. Mistletoe hung from every doorway. Dante loved catching Tally under the mistletoe, whirling her in a circle and kissing her.
The enormous sitting room was filled with baskets of crimson and white poinsettias. Holly leaves, bright with berries, lay draped over the top of the fireplace mantel. But the room’s centerpiece was a blue spruce so tall its branches reached the ceiling.
The tree was beautiful.