EPILOGUE

Three years later

MASSIMO STRETCHED LANGUOROUSLY, appreciating the warmth invading his body. It was more than the sun penetrating his skin, it was love steam-cleaning his soul. He watched Carrie the gorgeous, clad in a bikini and some floaty fabric, scoop up their daughter and for a second he wondered if his heart might actually burst.

But then his daughter giggled. Ana had been yawning for the last ten minutes as she too was tired from swimming in the clear water with him these last two hours. Leah stepped forward from where she’d been reading to take her to the nursery, leaving Massimo and Carrie alone in the secluded, shady nook on their private beach.

Massimo loved his life. He especially loved afternoon nap time. He knew this level of contentment was rare. Nowadays he felt rested in a way he’d neither experienced, nor even imagined possible, only a few years ago. And his happy heart beat faster as Carrie strolled towards where he lay sprawled back on the warm sand, mirth sparkling in her eyes.

‘Massimo Donati-Wells,’ she addressed him with mock civility. ‘Are you lazing on the beach doing nothing?’

‘Not doing nothing,’ he replied extremely lazily, yet with a huskiness that betrayed the depths of his emotions. ‘I’m plotting.’

‘Nefarious takeover plans? Corporate raiding? Some high-profile merger?’ Even as she teased there was a softness in her expression.

‘Definitely a merger. There’s a distinct possibility of a takeover as well.’

The shimmer in her eyes brightened.

He sat up to take her hand, then tugged on it as he lay back again. He didn’t have to tug hard—she tumbled to the sand beside him. It was a slow, laughing tumble that she’d totally expected. Because, no, it wasn’t the first time he’d made that move. He pushed back the floaty covering so he could touch her. His need to feel her skin against his was almost a torture.

‘How is it possible that you’re seven months’ pregnant?’ he whispered in wonder. He knew her and yet she was still such a wondrous mystery to him.

Her shoulders lifted and even she shook her head in bemusement. ‘It’s just the way I seem to carry them.’

There were small tell-tale signs that did betray her to those closely observant. And right now Massimo was very, very close and very, very observant. He reverentially explored each sign—kissing along that softer line of her jaw, smoothing his palms over her radiant skin, carefully pushing aside the small stretchy bikini so he could ever so gently press his teeth into the deeper blush of her nipples. The curve to her belly, the one that had always been there, wasn’t much bigger than usual yet it was little more than two months until her due date.

‘You’re incredible,’ he muttered.

Enchanting. Bewitching. Loving. Generous. Funny. Sharp.

She was so many wonderful things and he was about to lazily make love to his wife for as long as possible. Although in truth it wasn’t going to be that long, because she felled him. The attraction burned even hotter than in those heady days when they’d first married, when they’d first realised and admitted their love.

But, while there was peace in being with her right in this present moment, there was the paradox of desperation as well. Desire pushed him to move faster even when he wanted to take all the time there was in existence to simply savour this moment. Every moment.

Carrie rubbed the backs of her fingers along Massimo’s stubbly jawline. She loved him most like this—a little tired, a lot relaxed, with all the love shining from his eyes.

Vulnerable together. Content together. No distraction. No distance. Nothing but them. Their family and friends were nearby and they would dine and laugh together later. But this moment? This was theirs alone.

Their son was due soon and Carrie couldn’t wait to meet him. Massimo had already started talking about another child after him. He, who’d once been so determined not to have children at all, now wanted a large family. And he wanted to share in all the experiences life could offer. He’d pushed back on the hours he worked, striving to better balance their world. He supported her endeavours at work—becoming her champion, the supporter she’d lacked for so long. It wasn’t perfect, of course. But in that imperfect way, with mistakes and laughter, it absolutely was.

They spent long stretches of time in Fiji. Eventually school terms or work schedules might limit their time there for a while, but she was at peace with that. Because she understood that his love for her knew no limits. Just as her love for him was profoundly complete. Paradise, she’d discovered, wasn’t a place. Nor was it an escape. It was simply being with him—in the time and space they shared.

Here. Now. Together.