The Sicilian Surrender

“The man who—?” she said softly. “Who what?”

He felt a muscle jump in his jaw. “Who can’t imagine going anywhere without you. Come with me, sweetheart. It’ll be all right, I promise.”

It was the closest he’d come to saying he loved her. How could she turn him down? Fallon took a deep breath and went into his arms.

* * *

Once again, Stefano waited on the terrace. Once again, he paced it from end to end.

He’d paced his own bedroom, too, the one he now shared with Fallon, and the sitting room attached to it, staring at the bathroom door each time he walked by, wondering what she could be doing in there that could take so long and telling himself that it was none of his business.

He knew women. They had little rites of passage they followed before going out in public. Face, hair, nails. He didn’t mind that. He was just afraid Fallon was frozen before the mirror, trying to hide a face that didn’t need hiding.

He thought about knocking on the door and telling her that. Then he thought better of it and that was when he headed downstairs to the terrace.

“Stefano?”

He swung around and saw the most beautiful woman in the world step through the door.

Fallon was wearing a short dress in some kind of gauzy material. It had little straps and a short skirt that showed off her legs. She’d pulled her hair back from the unscarred side of her face and let the rest of it dip over her temple and cheek in a delicate fall that softened the scars without hiding them.

It was a brave thing, a wonderful thing, and he felt a rush of love so fierce it terrified him. Thinking you were in love was one thing; knowing it, giving away your heart, was another and he knew, in that moment, that was exactly what he’d done.

What would the world think of il lupo solo now? he wondered, and the thought made him smile.

“Do I look all right?” Fallon lifted her hand to her hair, danced her fingers over the glossy black wing that kissed her cheek. “I figured, if we’re going to do this, we might as well do it right.”

“You look beautiful, cara,” he said, going to her and drawing her into his arms. “More beautiful than you can possibly know.” He kissed her, a long, tender kiss that deepened as she rested her hands on his chest and responded to it. “Just keep that thought,” he whispered. “Okay? We’re doing this. Together.”

She smiled as he took her hand in his.

“I’m scared silly,” she said. “I couldn’t do this without you.”

He grinned and kissed her again. “I don’t want you doing anything without me,” he said, and he put his arm around her waist and walked her to the car.

* * *

Stefano was right.

There were some wonderful shops near the harbor. Fallon dragged him into half a dozen of them, oohing and aahing over everything she saw.

She was self-conscious at first but after a while, she lost herself in the fun of the shopping expedition and she forgot to wonder whether anyone was staring at her or, worse still, looking at her with pity in their eyes.

“I have to buy presents for my family,” she told Stefano. He knew their names by now and a little bit about them, and he trooped after her good-naturedly as she selected beribboned tambourines for Meg and Bree, good luck charms carved from lava for Cullen and Sean, and a beautiful terra-cotta bowl for her mother and stepfather.

Fallon paused in the last shop. Something caught her eye. It was the figure of a knight, dressed in armor. Was it a puppet?

“Those are marionettes, signorina,” the salesclerk said, leaning in and following her gaze. “All made by hand. Marionettes date far back in the history of the Sicilian people. Would you like to see them?”

Only one, Fallon thought, and looked at Stefano. He was leaning against a counter, arms filled with packages, ankles crossed, wearing the polite smile and glazed look of a man who’d long ago tuned out.

“Stefano.” She touched his chest and he blinked and smiled into her eyes, and she thought, as she had thought a hundred times in the past hour, how much she adored him…

And how much she’d hoped that what he’d been going to say, this afternoon, was that he was the man who loved her.

“Yes, cara. Do you see something you like?”

“Why don’t you wait for me outside? I know it’s crowded in here.”

He glanced at the door and the street like a man granted a reprieve.

“No,” he said valiantly, “I’m fine.”

“And so am I,” she said softly. “I am. Really. I can do this myself.”

He bent his head and gave her a long, sweet kiss. The salesclerk cleared her throat; Fallon blushed and Stefano grinned, then sauntered out the door. As soon as he was gone, Fallon pointed to the marionette dressed in a knight’s regalia.

“That one,” she said, and had it gift-wrapped for her very own knight, who had taken her to live in his castle.

* * *

The little café was as charming as Stefano had promised.

They sat at a table overlooking the water. Fallon took one look at the menu and gave up.

“You order,” she told Stefano.

Their meal was delicious; the wine warm and strong.

“It’s a little rough,” Stefano said, “but it’s local.”

“It’s real,” Fallon said. “That’s good. Things that are real are what matter most.”

Stefano reached for her hand and brought it to his lips.

“You’re an incredible woman,” he said softly.

She shook her head. “I’ve taken all my strength from you. I’m glad you didn’t let me stay home and feel sorry for myself.”

“Cara. I didn’t mean—”

He felt her hand tighten in his. Her face had paled and at the same moment he realized she’d forgotten about her scars, that she’d somehow pushed her hair back behind her ear, he realized she was staring past him.

He looked around, ready to take on the world…and saw a man and woman seated at the next table with a little girl, four or five years old. The child was staring at Fallon, her eyes rounded with fascination; the father had hold of her arm and was talking to her in a low, urgent whisper.

No, Stefano thought, please, no…

Too late.

“Mommy,” the kid said in perfect American English, “Daddy, what happened to that lady’s face?”

The woman paled. The man compressed his lips into an angry line.

“Hush,” he said sharply.

Stefano’s hand tightened on Fallon’s and almost crushed it, but she reached down into a part of herself she hadn’t known existed, took a deep breath and said, in a voice that carried as clearly as a bell, that it was all right, children were naturally honest.

“I had an accident,” she added. Her eyes met Stefano’s. “But I’m all better now.”

Stefano dropped a handful of bills on the table. He put his arm around Fallon as they left the café and walked slowly through the warm night to his car. She wasn’t quite as unaffected by what had happened as she’d seemed; he could feel her trembling.

“You were wonderful,” he said softly.

She gave a tremulous laugh. “She was just a child. I didn’t want her to be frightened.”

They reached the car. Stefano had driven it himself; he closed the door after Fallon, got behind the wheel and reached for her hand.

“I repeat,” he said softly, “you’re an

amazing woman, Fallon O’Connell.”

Her heart was still thumping. Facing the little girl and everyone else in the café had been hard, but she was happy she’d done it.

She knew she couldn’t have, without Stefano.

“You’re pretty amazing yourself,” she said with a little smile. She thought of the marionette and her smile broadened. “My knight in shining armor.”

Stefano gathered her into his arms. “I’m no knight, cara, I’m only a man.” He hesitated. “And, like any man, I’ve been avoiding telling you something unpleasant.”

Her smile tilted. “What is it?”

He lifted her chin and brushed his lips over hers.

“I spent most of the morning on the phone with New York.”

“And?”

“And, an important deal’s gone sour. I’d hoped to work things out but—”

Fallon worked at holding her smile. “But, you have to fly back.”

“Yes. There’s no way around it. I wish there were.”

She nodded. “I understand.”

Stefano linked his hands in the small of her back. “I’d much rather stay here than go to New York. You know that.”

She nodded again, wondering how long he’d be gone, imagining herself walking the beach like an old-time sea captain’s wife, staring out to sea while she waited for her man to return.

It didn’t sound appealing. She didn’t want to be without Stefano, and she couldn’t really see herself with nothing to do but wile away time until he returned.

“I’ll count the days until—”

“No,” he said softly.

“No?” she repeated, uncertainty in her voice.

“You can’t wait here for me.” Stefano took a breath, then expelled it. “I won’t be able to get back to Sicily for months.”

Fallon stared at him. People said your life flashed before your eyes when you were drowning, but it wasn’t true. She was drowning now and all she could think of was that she had to get through these next moments without losing whatever remained of her pride.

“Oh. Well. Well…” She put her hands on his chest. “Well, I think—I think you misunderstood me. I meant—I meant, of course I’ll miss you but we’ll see each other again sometime, and—”

“Cara. Are you crazy?” His voice was gruff. “Why do you make everything so damned complicated?” He kissed her, hard, and when she tried to jerk her face away, he wouldn’t let her. “Did you really think these few weeks together would be enough? I want you to come to New York with me.” He took a deep breath. “Stop looking at me as if you don’t understand what I’m saying, cara. I want you to live with me and share my life.” His eyes darkened. “If that isn’t what you want, too, tell me now.”