ONE MONTH LATER

Emma curled up on her side on the cushioned lounger and looked out at paradise. Vanni noticed her smug smile as she stared at him, and raised his eyebrows in an amused query.

“I think I’m becoming extremely selfish,” she murmured, her voice pitched just above the silken, rhythmic cadence of the waves hitting the beach.

“I’m trying to imagine how and coming up short,” he replied dryly, moving aside the tray and remnants of the delicious lunch Mrs. Denis had made them. He rolled onto his side facing her, his head perched in his hand. She reached out and traced her finger along his ridged, taut abdomen with languorous sensuality.

“Really?” she murmured, turning her hand and brushing the stunning ring he’d given her just last night after they’d arrived at La Mer against his belly. His stomach muscles leapt against the gently scraping diamond. They shared a smile. Since Vanni had insisted upon a very short engagement, she’d insisted she didn’t want a ring until they exchanged their wedding vows on the cliffside terrace of La Mer four days from now. Vanni had had other plans, however. Almost as soon as she’d agreed to marry him three weeks ago, he’d hired Angelo Prisatti to design her ring. It was a breathtaking symphony of meticulously wrought platinum and diamonds. Suited for an elven princess, Vanni had teased warmly last night when he’d slid it on her finger and she’d gaped at it in wonder.

“I think you spoil me rotten,” Emma told him pointedly.

His lips tilted in amusement as he reached out and delved his fingers into her hair. “Most women would think I was selling them short by not giving them a huge wedding at the Villa Ephrussi de Rothschild or the Château de la Napoule.”

“You showed me those places, and several besides,” she reminded him, running her finger over the soft, thin trail of hair that led from his belly button below the waistband of his swim trunks. “You gave me the choice. You know as well as I do that none of them is as beautiful as La Mer.”

“Certainly none as special to us,” he said, sobering.

“Vanni?”

“Yes?”

“Do you think that maybe we could live here most of the time?” she asked in a hushed voice.

She thought he’d be surprised or nonplussed, but instead, a small smile tilted his mouth, as if he’d been expecting her to say it. He pushed slightly on the back of her head and she leaned forward, meeting his kiss.

“Do you really love it here that much?” he asked next to her lips a moment.

“You know I do,” she whispered. “But more importantly, I think you do. I know we’ll have to stay at the Breakers at times, with your work.” Emma was even more prepared to stay at the Breakers now that Vanni had insisted upon shunting Vera Shaw away from his home and private life and over to a lower management position at Montand Motorworks, where she supervised the janitorial and cleaning staff. As Vanni had put it, in that position she could do relatively little harm and was directly under the eye of her brother, Dean. Both Dean and Vanni agreed after what had occurred with Emma that Vera needed watching.

“And what about your work?” he asked, cradling her jaw with his hand.

“I’ve thought about it a lot. There are a few English-speaking nursing agencies here. I’ll find work. Nurses are always in demand.”

“And you’re sure you want to work?” he asked, nuzzling her nose.

“Of course.”

“Being a nurse is part of who you are,” he agreed quietly, meeting her stare. She raised her eyebrows in a silent query, waiting for what he’d say about La Mer. Again, he smiled. “Yes,” he said. “I think it’s time I made La Mer my home. Our home. I don’t feel as tied to the Breakers anymore. I don’t feel like part of me is trapped there.”

“I’m so glad,” she whispered.

He dipped his head and covered her mouth again. Warmth swept through her at the sensation of his firm, moving lips. She’d have thought their intense sexual attraction for each other could mount no higher, but she’d been wrong. It seemed to escalate every day, the fire fed by their increasing trust and feelings for each other. When they’d been together during that amazing, magical week at La Mer before, they usually made love after lunch. It was a habit she was looking forward to making a tradition.

“I’m definitely selfish about one thing. I’m dreading the fact that people will start to arrive tomorrow for the wedding,” she said against his plucking lips a moment later, highly distracted by the feeling of his hand moving along the curve of her hip and ass. “Dean, Michelle, Amanda, Colin, Niki—”

Something struck her and she rolled back, staring at Vanni’s face.

“What?” he asked.

“Niki. I don’t know why it didn’t occur to me before. Because of Cristina, Niki is a relation to you, isn’t he?” she asked.

Vanni nodded, and she was glad to see how calm he looked. Since he’d revealed to her that he’d known Cristina was his biological mother, her name didn’t come up often between them. Still, Emma didn’t consider Cristina to be a taboo topic for Vanni, like she had before, and she was glad to observe firsthand that she’d been right in her assumption. He seemed quite comfortable as he pulled her back into position close to him, resuming his caress on her naked hip.

“Cristina was Niki’s great-aunt, so I guess that makes us second cousins or something?” he said, glancing down and watching himself rub her hip.

“Does Niki know?”

Vanni shook his head. “I’ve never told another soul about Cristina.”

“Do you think you’ll ever tell him?” Emma asked quietly, cupping his shoulder.

“Maybe. Probably,” he amended after a moment. He met her stare, looking pensive. “There’s something I’ve been meaning to ask you.”

“Okay,” Emma said, sensing his intensity.

“Take off your bikini first.”

“What?” she asked, surprised.

“Just do it,” he directed, the quirk of his brow a subtle challenge.

She laughed, but did as he asked, then lay on her side next to him again. His gaze moved over her naked body with warm appreciation.

“Okay?” she asked amusedly.

“Better than okay,” he murmured, caressing the side of her breast and sweeping it downward over her sensitive side, making her shiver. His hand opened on her hip and he met her stare. “Do you think it was wrong of me, not to grant Cristina forgiveness when she asked it of me?”

Emma tried to mask her surprise at the unexpected question.

“No,” she said honestly. “Forgiveness is a state of mind. You know what I’ve told you all along about Amanda and me. If you weren’t feeling it, if they were just words, it would have been wrong to lie about it.”

He stared out at the sea as he rubbed her hip, the sun-infused water turning his eyes into brilliant cerulean crescents.

“Vanni . . . do you want to forgive her?” Emma asked.

His mouth quirked slightly. “It’s too late now.”

She touched his whiskered jaw, and he looked at her.

“It’s never too late.”

She saw his throat convulse as he swallowed.

“I’ve been thinking a lot about what you said out there.” He nodded toward the floating dock. “About me carrying a good load of the guilt for Adrian’s death, and how Cristina knew that, and how she asked for my forgiveness not just for her . . .”

“But for you,” Emma said, tears burning her eyes. It was a miracle to her, to see him tackling his demons . . . to watch him heal. “That’s why it’s never too late to forgive, Vanni. Because in the act of forgiving another, the forgiver is changed . . . lightened. But it’s not something that you can just say. You have to—”

“Feel it,” he said, nodding. “I understand it’s not black and white, like I thought. And I do. Feel it, I mean. I’ll never love Cristina, but I understand that she was doing all that she was capable of, coming there to mother Adrian and me . . . never really feeling or wanting that role. She was wrong for her neglect, but she was trapped by her selfishness. I think she wished she could have been different.”

“I know she did,” Emma agreed, stroking his shoulder.

His gaze flashed up to meet hers. “I never told you this, but the night before you were in that accident, I swam out again.”

Her caressing hand stilled. She knew what he meant by “swam out.” He meant that he’d tempted fate again, tested whether or not he would ever be taken like Adrian had been.

“Something happened to me out there,” he admitted starkly.

“What?”

“I remembered more than I’d ever recalled about the day when Adrian died. I’d always thought that I’d let go of him, that I hadn’t held on tight enough, that I wasn’t strong enough to save him . . . but that’s not what happened.”

She waited, her naked skin prickling with amplified awareness. He looked into her eyes, and a shiver coursed through her.

“I didn’t let go,” he said. “I was ready to go down with him. He let go of me,” Vanni stated succinctly. “His hand didn’t slip away. He pulled his hand out of mine, and I zoomed to the surface like a balloon.”

“You mean . . . he intentionally released you?”

Vanni nodded, a strange, awed expression creeping over his face.

“It was like he was telling me to . . .”

“Live,” Emma finished for him.

His glance at Emma was a mixture of doubt and longing and hope. “Maybe I’m wrong. But that’s what it felt like, when I remembered it out there that morning.”

“You weren’t wrong. Adrian released you all over again, and this time you felt it. Vanni, that’s amazing,” she whispered.

His gaze sharpened on her. He cupped her jaw. “No. You’re amazing.”

“Me? What have I got to do with it?” Emma asked, stunned.

“Everything.”

Her lips parted, and suddenly his mouth was covering them, his tongue sliding between them, and he was rolling her on her back and coming down over her, his heat and arousal stunning her. She hadn’t realized as he’d spoken that desire had coiled just below the surface. He was heavy and hard when he lowered his trunks a moment later. He entered her, filled her completely, his fierce gaze on her the entire time. She gasped as he ground their pelvises together, circling slightly with his hips, applying a delicious pressure on her clit.

“If it wasn’t for you—for your grace, and your kindness, and your example—I would have never gotten here, Emma,” he stated gruffly, keeping his hips still. He leaned down and kissed her parted lips gently while his cock pulsed high and hard inside her.

“I would have never even considered forgiving Cristina,” he said next to her trembling mouth. “I certainly never would have forgiven myself. I would have kept on, a dead man walking in the world of the living. It’s all down to you, mon petit ange. You’ve pulled me into the world of the living, and now that I’m here, I’ll never let you go,” he assured her heatedly.

He braced himself with his hands on the cushion and began to move.