The only way to change everything was to risk everything. To be brave enough to speak the truth from her heart.
As the bonfire died down to embers, after the employees had all left, Rosalie went to where her husband was putting out what remained of the flames. Reaching out her hand, she put it on his shoulder.
Alex looked at her coldly. His handsome face was half-hidden in the shadows of the fading firelight.
“What is really going on?” she asked quietly.
He looked down at the last embers and ash. His hands tightened. “Cesare and I have nothing in common. There’s no reason for us to be friends.”
“And us?” She lifted her gaze to his. “Is there any reason for us to be friends?”
Frowning, he straightened, still holding on tightly to the water hose. “We aren’t friends. We’re married.”
“Yes. Married.” With a deep breath, she forced herself to be brave. “I’ve missed you, Alex. Talking to you. Sleeping beside you—and all the rest of it. What’s happened to us?”
For a moment, his dark eyes looked haunted. Then his jaw tightened, and he looked away. “Nothing.”
Take a risk, her great-aunt had said. Be bold.
“Well, something’s changed for me.” Rosalie took a deep breath. “I’m in love with you, Alex.”
Alex stared at her in shock.
A ripple went through his body, a seismic tremble, causing his heart to shake.
Rosalie loved him? How could she love him?
His knees felt weak. He staggered back a single step as he looked at her.
Her brown eyes were bright beneath the moonlight. A cool autumn wind mussed her lon
g dark hair, blowing against her red dress, moving the knit fabric sensually against her small waist and legs. Her lips were parted. She seemed to be holding her breath.
She loved him.
Shock waves reverberated through him, sinew and bone. He wasn’t worthy of her love. He didn’t have the ability to love her back.
“Rosalie,” he began hoarsely. Then he stopped.
“Yes?”
Seeing his wife’s beautiful face turned up to his so hopefully, so bravely, he felt sick. The last thing he wanted to do was hurt her. It was one of the reasons he’d kept his distance. He had to protect her.
And he had to protect himself. He couldn’t weaken. Not now. Not ever.
As he put out the final flames of the bonfire and watched the last embers die, Alex felt rising despair. He couldn’t love her—couldn’t she see that? He had to be tough and strong to be able to keep his promise to protect them.
But how could he say that without hurting her?
Rosalie waited silently with tortured hope. Then, slowly, her expression changed. He saw disappointment. Then pain.
Soon her love would turn to hate. Their marriage, their lives, would be destroyed. Along with their child’s—
Fear pounded through him, surging like rain. He’d somehow known this would happen, from the first moment he’d seen Cesare’s family tonight. His distant cousin was, to all appearances, utterly lost in playing his sickeningly sweet role of devoted family man, as his wife clung to him like he was Christmas and joy and heaven all wrapped into one.
But their dream world couldn’t last. Soon—or perhaps even already, behind closed doors—his second cousin’s marriage would dissolve into screams and accusations. And their three innocent children would be the ones to pay the price. They would suffer for their parents’ love. As everyone suffered, if they believed romantic love could actually endure.
“I love you,” Rosalie said again, helplessly.