I loved him.
But there were far too many obstacles.
"A diversion before confronting my father." I said the words casually, as if seeing him again didn't matter. Inside, my heart was breaking.
"Don't judge him too harshly, Francesca. I doubt he knew what Franco was planning."
"I don't know what to believe any longer. Did Franco plan the assassination or was Dante in charge of everything? Then again, does it really matter?" He'd told me every word his father had said, opening up in a way I hadn't imagined could happen. That had been the very moment I'd lose my last resolve in wanting to fight my love for him.
"Hopefully, your father will be able to provide some answers."
"We shall see." I laughed when his arm extended over my shoulder, slowly swirling a glass of champagne in front of my eyes. "Mmmm... We finally have our champagne." I accepted the glass, allowing our fingers to touch.
He growled then eased hair from my shoulders, licking down the back of my neck. "You taste sweet. Maybe we don't need the bubbly."
"Oh, no, you don't. I've worked hard to get this." At least I felt more lighthearted than I had since the crazy mess began. I was ready to give up the money and walk away and that was so damn freeing.
"You're right." He whisked me into his arms, swaying me from side to side, humming a beautiful tune in my ear.
"You keep that up and we won't be going out for dinner." What was this man up to? Always full of surprises.
"I would suggest room service but..."
My laugh seemed to float toward the ocean, carried off by the sultry breeze. "Never again."
"Never say never."
I heard his strangled tone and when he backed away, I tensed. "What's wrong? You're not yourself. I wish you'd tell me what happened when you went out last night."
"We should talk, but not about last night. I had some personal business to attend to, nothing more."
"About tomorrow?" I pressed.
He moved to the railing, leaning over and studying the shoreline. "I release you."
"I'm sorry, what?"
"What I did to interrupt your life, however the outcome, wasn't fair to you. You need to build the life you so desperately want. I'm not your master or owner. That's not remotely fair and certainly not a way to build a life together."
"Don't you do that. Don't you dare do that to me, Michael. I have a life. With you." Clarity entered my mind. He didn't think I cared about him. "I want one with you. Don't you know that?"
He seemed touched, his grin returning. "Think about it. What I offer you is danger, always looking over your shoulder."
"Do you think that will honestly be any different than I have now? I will always be a target, no matter where I live or if I change my name. You have to know that."
Sighing, he shifted the glass from hand to hand. "I don't want to hurt you."
"Then don't." I placed my hand on his arm, weighing my words. "Don't shut down on me. I can handle anything, but not that." When he remained quiet, I almost lost it. "How dare you bring me to this beautiful and romantic place, pretending that you care about me then shutting me out completely. I went through hell for you because I love you."
Lifting a single eyebrow, he shifted in my direction. "You love me?"
"Yes. Why the hell I should, I honestly don't know when you act like a petulant child, but I do. God help me, I do." Growling, I moved toward the door, moaning the second he wrapped his hand around my wrist, dragging me against his chest.
"I'm not a good man, Francesca. Don't you understand that?"
"I understand that you're honorable and caring; that you found your humanity and saved my life not once but twice. That's what your beautiful mother instilled in you, the man that I adore. Stop hiding. Stop fighting that. Just stop."
"Does that mean that you'll honor and obey me, surrendering to my every need?"
Was this man kidding? I'd spent my entire life trying to find the center within myself. Over the last few days, everything had changed. I knew what I wanted for the first time in my life. "I... Yes."
His expression softened, his eyes a direct window to his very soul. "I love you, Francesca. If I could give you the world, I would, but I can only offer you this."
All time stood still as he pulled a small box from his jacket. After taking both glasses and easing them onto the table, he dropped onto one knee. "Francesca Alessandro, will you do me the honor of becoming my wife?"
"Yes, oh God, yes!"
The moment Michael slipped the gorgeous ring on my finger, I was overwhelmed with a need to live in ways I'd never allowed myself to embrace before. Obeying him? That would be difficult. Accepting his darkness? I would find a way.
He swept me into his arms, only this time his strong arms seemed different, even more protective than the times he'd saved my life. I clung to him, still concerned about facing my father but determined to let go of the past. Whatever the future would hold we'd forge together.
Until someone broke us apart.
I closed my eyes, willing the nasty thought aside as he cupped both sides of my face.
"I do love you. I will never be the perfect man," he whispered.
"I'm not looking for perfect. I just want honesty."