CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
ANTONIO NAVIGATED THROUGH THE fevered traffic, the breathtaking architecture of Rome zooming by as I sat in the back of the dark sedan. When Dante’s hand wrapped around mine, I glanced to my left, smiling. Bringing it to my lips, I placed a soft kiss on his knuckles, then exhaled a contented sigh, feeling as if I’d finally arrived home after a nearly thirty-year absence.
While I was hesitant to follow-through on my plan to move to Italy with Dante, particularly with everything my father had been through, I knew he was in good hands, that Lauren would look after him. She promised to do as much during a small ceremony on the beach just a week ago. I’d never seen my father as happy as he was when she pledged to be his wife. He and Lauren finally had their fresh start, and I finally had mine, too, albeit after a longer than anticipated delay.
Antonio brought the car to a stop and I peered out the window, noticing we were parked in front of Dante’s restaurant. I glanced at him, seeing a boyish smirk on his face.
“Any particular reason we’re here?”
He winked. “You’ll see.” He stepped out of the car, hurrying to my side. While he wasn’t back to being one hundred percent just yet, he was finally able to move around with little discomfort. And he certainly showed absolutely no sign of any impairment in the bedroom. He was back to being the Dante who’d opened my eyes, who’d invaded my soul, who’d given me my wings.
My door opened and he held his hand out. I placed mine in it and stood, caught by surprise when he tugged my body against his. Draping my arm over his shoulder, I played with the curls hanging over his collar.
“How does it feel to be in Italy knowing this is your home, now and forevermore?” he asked, brushing his lips against mine.
“Like I’m exactly where I was always meant to be,” I answered honestly.
“Me, too, amore mio.” He pressed his mouth against mine, treating me to a full kiss, then pulled back.
“Come.” He held his elbow out for me. I looped my arm through his, tugging my jacket tighter around me as we walked through the crisp February air. While the temperatures weren’t freezing, it was still chilly for someone who’d grown up in Southern California.
“Still the same Eleanor you were when we first walked this path together back in June,” Dante mused. “Still think anything below twenty degrees is cold.”
“Still the same Dante you were, too. Still quoting temperatures in terms of Celsius.”
He smiled, his eyes bright as he looked down at me. “If I had it to do all over again, I wouldn’t change a thing. I’d still quote temperatures in terms of Celsius.”
I felt a blush bloom on my cheeks, a warmth running through me as we turned the corner toward the Trevi Fountain, the sight like coming home again after too long of an absence. “And I’d still proposition you for a one-night stand.”
“I’d still ask you to stay with me for the week,” he continued, his voice becoming more sincere.
“And I’d still say yes.”
He stopped walking, peering down at me.
“I’ll always say yes, Dante. Sempre e per sempre.”
“Sempre e per sempre,” he replied with a smile.
I saw the faint flicker of camera flashes, but unlike the first time Dante brought me here, I ignored them. I’d grown accustomed to them over the past several months, especially with Marjorie’s criminal trial starting soon and the news that the prosecutor would be seeking the death penalty. Cameras and reporters no longer bothered me.
Dante cleared his throat, cutting through the building tension. The corner of his mouth twitched slightly, then he grabbed my hand and pulled me through the crowd of people who had come to see the Trevi Fountain and throw their coins in it. As we approached the ledge, the sea of onlookers seemed to part, giving us space.
My heart drummed in my chest, every inch of me alive with anticipation and excitement, remembering what Dante had shared with me when he thought he was moments away from death. With a smile and a sparkle in his eyes, he released his hold on me, turning to face me. He drew in a deep breath. I could feel his nerves, the energy buzzing between us.
Reaching into his pocket, he stared intently into my eyes, his gaze unwavering. “So what’ll it be, Eleanor? One, two, or three coins?” He opened his fist, revealing three fifty-cent Euro coins sitting in his palm.
Keeping my eyes glued to his, I began to reach for the coins, then stopped. “We were just talking about how, if we had it to do all over again, we wouldn’t change a thing,” I began. “The past two times we stood here, in this very spot, I took one coin to throw into the fountain.”
He simply nodded, licking his lips as he seemed to absorb every word.
“Not anymore. I would never just throw one coin into the fountain again. Not now that I know you, that I know how empty my life is without you.” Smiling, I reached for his outstretched hand, taking all three coins. “From this moment forward, I’ll always hope for wedding bells.”
Turning my back toward the fountain, I closed my eyes, tossing the coins over my shoulder into the pool behind me. A loud gasp ripped through the crowd, coupled with a few voices saying “Dio mio”. I immediately opened my eyes, wondering if I’d hit someone. Then I saw what had caused the crowd to react that way.
Dante had told me about his plan for this moment, but words couldn’t describe just how magical, beautiful, and perfect it was to open my eyes and peer down at this man kneeling before me, his gaze focused on mine, an open ring box in his hand.
I sucked in a breath, covering my mouth with my hand to hide my quivering chin. Tears welled in my eyes, a lump forming in my throat. More and more people assembled around us, but I didn’t see any of them. All I saw was Dante. And I knew he’d be the only man I’d ever see for the rest of my life.
“The first time I saw you, a strange feeling ripped through me,” he began, his voice deep, soft, endearing. “We were in the first-class lounge. You were nervously tapping your nails on the table and constantly looking at the clock. I was nursing my third scotch. As I raised my drink to my lips, I smelled something other than liquor. I smelled lilies.”
I choked out a sob, struggling to reel in the tears steadily streaming down my face.
“Now I know it was a sign. It was Lilly’s way of saying you were the one for me. As much as I didn’t want to believe it, she was right. You are the only woman for me. And you have been since the day you propositioned me for a one-night stand.”
A smile lit up my face at the memory of our unconventional beginnings.
“I know you haven’t had the easiest life, but I promise to do everything in my power to make you laugh, to make you smile, to make you feel loved. I promise to do everything I can not to wake you up with my snores, to rub your feet every night, and to always leave the toilet seat down. But mostly, I promise to love you, to treat you like the goddess you are, to do everything I can to be the man of your dreams. So please, Eleanor Jean Crenshaw, let me worship you, let me love you.” He licked his lips, swallowing hard. “Let me marry you.”
He barely got the last few words out before I yanked him to his feet, flinging my arms around him and pressing my lips against his. He stilled momentarily, then melted into the kiss, our tongues tangling as we savored this moment, standing in front of the Trevi Fountain, onlookers snapping our photo, pledging ourselves to each other for the rest of our lives.
“Is that a yes?” he asked when I pulled away.
“That’s a yes,” I answered with a smile, bringing my left hand up so he could slide the ring on it. I beamed as I stared at the princess cut diamond surrounded by a band of smaller stones, the light of the sun making it sparkle. “It’s perfect.”
“You deserve nothing less,” he said, leaning toward me, his lips ghosting against mine. “For the rest of our lives.” He took my hand in his, toying with the ring as he kissed me once more, filling me with hope, faith, and love.
It was only fitting that this was the place where we pledged to honor and respect each other. It was where it all began for us. On that clear night in June all those months ago when a handsome, mysterious stranger asked me how many coins I wanted to throw into the fountain, never would I have imagined I’d be standing here eight months later with his ring on my finger.
I’d come to Italy to figure out who I was as a person. Dante showed me who that was back then.
And, even to this day, I constantly saw myself anew every time he looked at me with that devotion, that yearning, that admiration in his eyes. In his eyes was my heart, my family, my home.
I was finally home.