When she stood, he was looking at her as though she lost her mind—and he loved it. ‘You are utterly unique,’ he said with a shake of his head.
On the boat, Rafaelo cackled softly. Tilly winked at him and then jumped up, pushing at Rio’s chest until he fell backwards into the water.
He laughed as he splashed to the ground. ‘Why do I think life with you is going to leave very few dull moments?’
‘If any,’ she agreed with a nod.
He stood, shaking his head and reaching down to scoop her up. And she let him carry her out of the water towards the beach. He deposited her wet feet on the sand and then paced back to the boat, taking their two small bags and carrying them easily towards her.
She watched him, her heart soaring. Behind him the sun was dipping down, and everything was right in the world.
‘Let me stow these inside,’ he said.
She nodded, tears of happiness clogging her throat. She waved at Rafaelo as he turned the boat back out to sea and found a path just to the left of the sun’s golden trail.
When Rio returned, it was with an ice-cold bottle of champagne and two glasses.
‘After last time?’ she said with a rueful smile.
‘A small glass,’ he said. ‘I feel like celebrating.’
‘And what are we celebrating?’ she asked rhetorically, because fate and destiny had conspired to bring them every good thing in life.
He crouched down, so that he
could better pop the champagne cork, but before he’d taken the foil from the top he reached for her hand.
‘I think you missed my proposal earlier. So let me ask you now, Matilda Morgan, if you will marry me? Marry me anywhere, any time, but be my wife for always. I want to save you from falling into volcanoes for the rest of our days.’
She turned to look down at him and saw, for the first time, that he was holding a small velvet box. And it was saturated. Her cheeks flushed as she realised he must have had it with him when she’d ploughed him into the ocean.
‘Oh...’ She blinked, almost blinded by the solitaire diamond. It was surrounded by a circlet of green stones.
‘Like your eyes.’
The words were a love song all on their own. She felt the rhythm and verse move over her and her heart danced.
‘I love it,’ she promised.
‘Will you wear it, Tilly? Knowing that you wear it as a sign that I belong to you and you belong to me?’
She nodded, not trusting herself to speak.
‘Will you marry me? In front of our family and friends?’
She nodded again, her eyes sparkling. ‘Only if you marry me back.’
His laugh filled her soul with happiness. ‘I will.’
* * *
And so it was that, two months to the day after leaving the island in such a state of despair, Tilly stood before her family, her friends, and even the Wyndhams, and promised to have and to hold Rio Mastrangelo for all her life.
She didn’t see them, of course. Though two hundred guests had joined them on the island, and were standing on the beach sipping champagne and adoring the obviously in love couple, Tilly saw only Rio.
She saw him as he was—the handsome billionaire who had devoted his skills to preserving buildings and objects of interest. She saw him as he had been—the boy with too much worry on his shoulders, who had loved and felt loved by one person on earth, the person who had spent years saying a slow, painful farewell to her only child. She saw him as he would be—her life partner, her lover and, yes, the father of her children.
A smile curled her lips as she thought of the tiny life shielded in her belly.