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“So are you,” he murmured against her throat, and she laughed softly.

“Well, that’s surprising, because I’d never kissed anyone before you.”

“What!” He straightened, shock blazing through him. He’d known she was a virgin, but never even been kissed?

She opened her eyes and gazed at him, her expression clear and utterly without guile.

“Nope. I wasn’t trying to keep myself from it or anything. I just…never found the right guy, I guess. And I know I might make some reckless decisions, but not…not like that.” Her gaze lowered, her lashes brushing her cheeks. “I hope you don’t think that makes me some kind of weird loser .”

“Not at all,” he assured her, and kissed her again, gently, for good measure. “It makes you admirably discerning.” But it also shook him, because he’d already felt a responsibility for Rose and the child she carried. Now, knowing how untouched she was, how innocent and also how trusting, he felt a responsibility for her heart, and that felt like a far greater weight to bear.

Chapter Sixteen

“Venice?”

Rose paused with her coffee cup halfway to her lips as Esmerelda gave her a smile that was wide but also steely, an expression Rose was coming to know well. She had been at Villa Amanti for three weeks, and it had felt like a fairy tale, the kind without a fire-breathing dragon or a wicked stepmother, just a wonderful happy ending, or at least one in the making, unfolding a little more every day.

Christos had been solicitude itself, always making sure she was comfortable, that she had everything she needed. More than that, he was kind and interested, and they’d spent a lot of time together in the three weeks she’d been here—touring the sights, including the stunning Isola Madre, taking the Amanti sailboat, which was the most magnificent craft Rose had ever seen, over to the island for a private tour. They’d had picnics and rambling walks and jaunts in the motorboat, skimming across the azure waters of the lake. There had been elegant dinners at home and also in the best restaurants locally, always with a private room and the most attentive service.

It had felt almost like a honeymoon…especially when he took her in his arms.

In the three weeks she’d been here, she and Christos had only kissed, but oh, what kisses they’d been. Long, lingering kisses lying on a picnic blanket, their bodies pressed together, legs tangled and twined. Under the moonlight on the terrace, in the gardens, while walking through the vineyards, leaning across the table in a café in town…there had been a lot of kisses, and Rose didn’t know how to tell him she was ready for more, or even if she was.

Because as wonderful as all this was, some part of her still held back, out of an innate caution. She still wondered if she could trust it. Him. And what would happen once her baby, the Amanti heir, was born? How much would change between them?

“Yes, Venice,” Esmerelda stated definitively. “It is the perfect place for a party. We will have it in two weeks.”

“A party for what?” Christos asked as he strolled into the breakfast room. As always, he took her breath away the moment she laid eyes on him. Freshly shaven, his dark hair still spiky from the shower, smelling of pine and citrus. He wore a three-piece suit in silvery gray, the material hugging his broad shoulders and lean hips. He gave her a quick smile that lightened his eyes, gladdening her. While she’d been enjoying their time together, she was pretty sure Christos was, too, and that felt even better.

He seemed far more relaxed than he had back at the beginning, and more than once, he’d surprised her in the middle of the afternoon when he was meant to be working to spend time with her—a stroll through the gardens or a quick jaunt into town in a vintage Alfa Romeo convertible, so she’d felt like she was in a movie.

She’d enjoyed it all, and she wanted to lean into it, let go of the suspicion and the fear, both ingrained from her childhood, because she’d learned too many times how what you wanted or needed most could be taken away. Ripped away in an instant or chipped away through the years. First with her parents, then with her aunt’s relentless rejection, culminating in her being thrown out, and then the lonely years that had followed when she’d pretended to traipse merrily through life, always hiding a soul-deep fear and loneliness underneath.

Why couldn’t she let this be different? Why couldn’t she could be different in it, believing in it rather than waiting for the blow to fall? Hiding her fear with optimism because a smile sometimes had seemed like her only weapon?

She didn’t want to have weapons now. She didn’t want to fight; she just wanted to believe. In herself, in Christos, in them.

“A party for you and Rose, of course,” Esmerelda said like it was obvious, which to her it clearly was. “To introduce Rose to society, but also the two of you.” She gazed at them both beadily. “As a couple.”

“Madre…” Christos murmured in protest, and Rose tensed. He said he wanted to marry her, but he wasn’t ready to have it be announced they were a couple? “I don’t know if Rose is ready for that,” he remarked, and then glanced at her in inquiry.

Rose put down her coffee cup with an unsteady hand. Was she ready for it? Yes, it had been three wonderful weeks, but it had only been three weeks. And they’d been ensconced in their own little world here at the luxurious Amanti estate, protected from gossip, speculation or judgment. This felt like potentially a big step, a scary one…and yet one, Rose decided, she was ready to take.

“I think it could be a good idea,” she said carefully, as she put down her coffee cup. “It would be nice to meet some more people, and I’ve never been to Venice.”

“Ah, perfect!” Esmerelda clapped her hands together lightly. “I will arrange it all. Venice is so beautiful. I know Christos will enjoy showing it to you.” Her eyes gleamed with speculation, and Rose felt herself start to blush. She was pretty sure Esmerelda had caught them kissing a few times and was painting rainbows all over their future.

Well, why not paint a few herself? A party, she thought, really would be fun.

“Are you sure about this?” Christos asked seriously once his mother had left the breakfast table to make plans for the party. “I don’t want you to do anything you don’t feel comfortable with.”

“I’m sure,” Rose assured him. “Not to say that it isn’t nerve-wracking, because it is. But it makes sense. If…if I’m seriously considering becoming part of this world, I need to know what it looks like.”

“I’m glad to hear you say that,” he told her, his eyes gleaming with satisfaction. “That you are considering it seriously.”

“Well.” She rested a hand on her growing bump, feeling strangely shy all of a sudden. “It’s been a very nice few weeks.”

“It has,” Christos agreed, and the moment stretched between them with unspoken memories, along with tantalizing possibility. Rose felt something in her unfurl and yearn. She was falling in love with him already, she knew, and part of her wanted to simply enjoy the fall, while another part insisted on holding herself back. Because she might have made a lot of reckless decisions in her life, but letting herself love Christos Amanti might just trump them all.