“Custody is the last thing Maurizio would want. He’s never around as it is. Custody is only an issue if I try to leave Italy. But you don’t want to leave Italy, right?”

“Right.”

She closed her eyes again, and again Ross drew his finger across her face, tracing the delicate lines of her cheeks and brows.

“Ross . . .”

He touched his finger to her lips again. She stopped, as if there was some virtue to his touch that could stop her thoughts or freeze her speech, and in truth there was. She smiled as she felt him draw his finger across her lips; then she kissed it. He drew his finger lower, down her chin, her neck, down the front of her shirt. Bumps rose on her skin. He lifted the gold necklace that hung just above her breasts. “What’s this?”

“It’s a gold florin. My mother gave it to me the night before I left for Italy.”

He lowered the medallion then leaned over her again, pressing his mouth against hers. The emotion Ross now felt was overwhelming, more spiritual than physical. He desired to weep as their mouths touched and his hands caressed a woman who seemed more beautiful than could exist for him.

Then his eyes began to well with tears. He tried to hide it from her, but a tear ran down his cheek and fell on her face.

Eliana pulled back from him. “Ross, what’s wrong?”

He only shook his head and looked away.

She kissed his forehead, then pulled his head in to her breast. “Tell me what’s wrong, love.”

When Ross could speak, he looked up at her with wet eyes. “I am so afraid.”

“Afraid of what?”

“Of losing you.”

“You’re not going to lose me.”

“Eliana, everyone I have ever loved has gone away. Everyone. My parents, my brother, Alyssa. I can’t lose you, Eliana. I can’t lose you too. My heart will never survive it.”

She kissed his forehead. “You’ll never lose me. Never. I can’t live without you. I promise. You just need to have hope this one last time.”

Ross fell into her again and they held each other tightly and love rose around them like a vapor. At that moment they found what they had both been denied, fulfillment of the greatest of all human needs: the need to love and to be loved. Night stretched itself deep and black and still, and for them even the sounds of the city ceased. They were no longer in want or pain or even in Florence. They were only in love.

CHAPTER 31

“Che dolce più che più giocondo stato saria di quel d’un amoroso cuore.”

How sweet is the rapturous state of soft passions in a heart full of love.

—Italian Proverb

Dawn comes early to Florence. It was only five o’clock, and the curtain of morning rose across the city and exposed the two of them still together on the bank of the golden Arno, Eliana lying against Ross’s chest, encircled in his arms. They had talked most of the night, about the past and present, but mostly about their future.