Watching her with her parents these last few hours, I’ve learned so much about her. Her emotional reunion with her mother—and her father—was affecting. I think he does love her. Very much.

But it seems like she’s been fighting against her upbringing since before I met her, fighting to be her own person. And she’s succeeded. Plus, she’s taken me on an epic journey of self-discovery with her. I want to spend the rest of my life with this woman. I love her so much, and I want to give her the world. She deserves nothing less.

She stirs, and her eyes open. She beams up at me, her smile illuminating the room.

“I love you,” I whisper.

“I love you,” she responds, reaching up to caress my cheek, her fingers tickling my stubble. “Thank you for not giving up on me.” Her voice is as soft as a summer breeze.

“Never. I’ve got you. Always.”

“And I’ve got you.”

“I think your dad will shoot me if he finds you here.”

“No, he’ll shoot me. I think he likes you.”

“He likes my title.”

“Maybe.”

“Are you okay?” I’m serious now, my voice dropping as I search her face for clues of what she’s endured for the past couple of days.

“Now that I’m with you, I am.”

“I’ll kill him if he ever comes near you again.”

She puts her finger on my lips. “Let’s not speak of him.”

“Okay.”

“I am sorry. For the lie.”

“Lie? About the pregnancy?”

She nods.

“Alessia, it was genius. Besides, I wouldn’t mind some kids.”

An heir and a spare.

She smiles and, leaning up, kisses me, tempting and teasing my lips with her tongue, and I’m hungry for more.

I ease her onto her back to make love to her once again.

Mindful. Beautiful. Fulfilling. Love.

As it should be.

Later this week we’ll be married.

I can’t wait.

I just have to tell my mother….