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That afternoon, he met Rose for lunch, his equable mood restored as much as it could be. Seeing her ready smile always lightened his heart, and that was before he saw the picnic basket and blanket by her feet.

“This is lunch?” he asked with a smile, and she smiled back.

“A picnic. It’s such a beautiful day, and I know where I want to go.”

He arched an eyebrow, intrigued. “You do? Where?”

She gazed at him determinedly. “I have seen many beautiful places since I’ve come here, and the estate is amazing. But today I want you to show me your hiding place.”

For a second, Christos didn’t know what she meant. “My hiding place…?” he asked with a little laugh that was meant to be scoffing but sounded uncertain. He didn’t have a hiding place. He didn’t hide.

“Your cave,” she explained. “That place you went to get away from it all. You told me about it.” She pursed her lips, her eyes glinting with a dozen different lights. “I want to see it.”

He’d forgotten he’d told her about that. Forgotten how much he’d already revealed to her in just that one little thing. “It’s really very small,” he said in the kind of tone that was meant to put her off.

“That’s why I should go now, before I get any bigger.” She rested one hand on her bump. “Please, Christos,” she said softly. “I want to share this with you.”

He hesitated before giving one quick nod. It was just a childhood den, nothing important or sacred, he told himself. Yet it felt like it was, because he was admitting to her that he’d needed a place to hide away, that he wasn’t as strong or as certain as he appeared, and never had been. At least, that’s what it felt like right now.

“All right,” he said, managing a smile. “But I did warn you.”

They headed out into the sunshine, the basket and blanket draped over Christos’s arm, the cares that had been dragging him down already starting to slip away as he spent time in Rose’s sunny presence. She was the antidote to his own tendency to somberness and severity, he thought reflectively. She could make him smile without even trying.

They walked along the shoreline, a few private yachts and sailboats bobbing on the lake’s blue waters. They strolled away from the dock and the jetty, down a dirt track that tapered to nothing more than a narrow path, and then just flattened grass. After another ten minutes of walking, they finally came to his cave, barely more than a crack in the marble cliff face, a dark crevice that had her giving an uncertain laugh.

“Okay, you were right,” she said. “It is really small.”

“I did warn you. You don’t have to go in.”

“I want to.” Already she was getting down on her hands and knees. Christos shook his head, laughing, as she started toward the crack in the stone, barely two feet wide, although he knew it opened up at the back. “Hopefully I won’t get stuck,” she said over her shoulder, her eyes dancing, her hair tumbling in a glorious mass down her back. “There aren’t any spiders or snakes or anything, are there?”

“I never saw any there before,” Christos replied. “But let me go in first, just in case.” Laughing a little at the ridiculousness of it, he got on his hands and knees and crawled into the cave, remembering just how it had felt, as a boy, to slip in here, knowing no one could find him, that for just a little while he was safe from his brother’s teasing ways, free from the responsibility of keeping him safe. For a few moments, in this little hidey-hole, he could simply be.

He crawled to where it opened into a wider space in the back, light filtering in from a crack in the stone high above. He turned around and reached a hand back for Rose. “It’s safe,” he called to her, and she crawled in slowly, exclaiming in wonder when the space opened up and they could both sit by side.

“Wow,” she breathed, and then giggled. “Did this belong to you?” She held up a chocolate wrapper that had Christos laughing, too.

“I imagine so, back in the day.”

“When was the last time you were in here?”

“Oh, I don’t know, maybe when I was fourteen or so?” He smiled at her, his eyes crinkling, enjoying her sense of wonder, the way she could make everything in him lighten. “I probably was trying to avoid helping out in the vineyard. My father was a big proponent of making us experience the hard work and not just the profits, but Luca always managed to get out of it somehow.”

“But I bet you didn’t,” Rose said quietly, and Christos shrugged in reply. No, he hadn’t, because as the older son, he’d always known it was his responsibility, along with so much else. Luca was free to lark about; he never had been.

To his surprise, Rose laid her hand on his cheek. Christos stared at her, feeling the moment turn from light not to dark, but to something more serious and important. Rose was staring at him openly, her eyes wide, her heart reflected in them in a way that made him catch his breath.

“Christos, I’m ready,” she said quietly, and he felt as if his heart was turning over. He was pretty sure he knew what she was talking about.

“Ready…” he repeated, and she nodded, solemn even though her eyes were sparkling.

“Yes, ready. Ready to say yes. If you ask me again, that is.” She let out an uncertain laugh, and his heart ached with both hope and a fierce, deep love.

“You want me to propose,” he clarified, “in this dusty cave, amidst old chocolate wrappers and maybe some spiders?”

“Yes.” Her gaze was clear, unwavering. “I do.”

He laughed, shaking his head, before he stopped, now completely serious and intent. He hadn’t expected this moment to happen here, but he was just grateful it was happening at all. “All right, then, Rose Delaney,” he told her. “I will ask. Will you marry me?”