Page 99 of The Thief

“I figured you’d tell me when you were ready.” He shrugs. “It didn’t seem that important. Florence is only a couple of hours away, and I own a private plane.”

“I pulled out of the process. I don’t want to be in Florence.” I squeeze his hand again. “I want to be right here.”

“Lucia, I?—”

“I don’t want safety,” I continue. “Safety is an illusion. My parents covered me in protective bubble wrap, and my heart still broke. I just want you.”

His eyes are both hungry and haunted. A conflict rages inside him. “You should leave me,” he grinds out, his grip on my hand tightening. “It’s the smart thing to do.”

“Never going to happen.” I give him a tremulous smile. “This is the part where you realize you’re stuck with me.”

He stares at me for a long time. I see the exact moment he stops fighting it because his eyes flare with possessive fire. He opens his arms, and I move in closer and lean into the warmth of his body.

“I’m never stuck with you,” he says. He smiles at me and moves my hand over his heart. “Stuck implies an absence of choice. I love you, Lucia. There’s no one else for me, little thief. I choose to spend my life with you. Speaking of which, it’s a pity you made me return the Titian to the Palazzo Ducale. If you hadn’t, I would have given it to you as a wedding present. I’ll have to think of something else now.”

My mouth falls open. Is this a?—

“You should see your expression.” Antonio laughs softly at my reaction. “This isn’t the actual proposal, by the way. I’ll be damned if I’m going to ask the woman I love to marry me dressed in a hospital gown.” He brushes a kiss across my lips. “Consider it a preview.”

“If this is the preview,” I manage, “I’m going to love the main event.”

He holds me in his arms, and I hug him as tightly as I dare. No more safety nets—I don’t need them. I’m finally ready for a leap of faith. We’re going to live happily ever after.

EPILOGUE

LUCIA

Antonio gets discharged a week later. The proposal—the real one, as Antonio insists on calling it—happens the next day. We’re lying in bed together when he retrieves a small box from his bedside table and flips it open.

“This is it,” he says. “The real deal. Remember, you already said yes.” He holds the ring out to me. “Yes?”

I stare at my engagement ring in shock. A central oval ruby is surrounded by diamonds and encased in filigree. It looks like an antique, but the design simultaneously feels timeless. The stone catches the light and glows like fire.

Like the bracelet he gave me, it perfectly matches my mother’s pendant.

How?

I prop myself on an elbow. “How long have you had this?”

He gives me an enigmatic smile.

“Antonio,” I say, my voice rising in pitch. “Seriously, how long?” He said he commissioned the bracelet the day he met me. He didn’t commission the ring at the same time, did he?

“I can’t tell you all my secrets,” he says with a grin but relents. “Do you know the story of your mother’s pendant?”

I bite back my smile and fake ignorance. “What story? My father gave it to her as a wedding present.”

He grimaces. “Fuck. Now I’m going to destroy your illusions.”

He looks guilty, and I can’t cause him any stress. His doctors will kill me if he ends up back in the hospital. “As tempting as it is to see you squirm, I already know he stole it for her.”

He leans back on the pillow. “You had me worried,” he says. “When I don’t feel like a truck ran me over, I’m going to make you pay for that,cara mia.”The words are a delicious promise, and a shiver of anticipation runs through me at the way his voice roughens.

But not now. Sadly, the doctors have vetoed sex for a few more weeks.

“My dad stole the pendant. It was supposed to be sold, but my mom fell in love with it, so he gave it to her instead.” I smile wistfully. “I always thought that was the most romantic thing ever.”

My parents loved each other with a fierceness that I am finally beginning to understand. Those agonizing hours in the hospital, waiting to find out whether Antonio would be fine, taught me something. I don’t think I’d ever make the same choice my father did, but I finally understand it. Losing the person you love is a terrible thing, and grief isn’t rational. It’s a wild and desperate beast clawing at your heart.

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