Page 72 of The Royal Governess
Well, he kind of had that right. “Sort of, yes.”
Why had I sat on this curving sofa where he could be this close to me? Biting my lip with nervousness, I pushed back my hair.
His eyes followed my gesture. “Oh, Christina…”
My name said that way turned me to jello.
Leaning forward, he whispered, “May I? Please?”
Maybe the setting was to blame. How more romantic could life be? Later I would wonder. But so help me, I leaned into his waiting arms. Marco’s lips found mine. The kiss was wonderfully familiar and more urgent than before. When he pulled away, I felt only loss, not guilt. “You will not make me apologize for kissing you this time?” he murmured, cuddling my head to his neck.
“No.” How could I? His pulse beat against my forehead and my own heart synced to his rhythm.
Running a hand down my arm, he sighed. “I have missed you so much, Christina. And I don’t know how this could be.”
“Yes, I know.” How could this be happening?
His lips took over from there. And I knew with each kiss that I would never have enough of this man. That as long as he wanted me here in his arms, so it would be.
Yep, there I was again. I even used his stilted English in my thoughts.
But Gregorio’s laughter down at the pool reminded me of my mission. I pushed away. Marco sighed. His hand tender, he traced the angle of my chin as if he could not touch me enough.
I tried, oh how I tried, to collect my thoughts.
“Marco, we have to talk about Gregorio.” Sitting up straight, I tried to pull together the argument I’d thought through in my room. How many times had I jotted points on my note pad and studied them? “Are you doing what you want to do with your life?”
The question surprised him. Marco’s eyes flicked to the distance. “Yes, a good question, Christina. I think I am. Well, for the most part. In some ways, my life has not been what I planned.”
“Well, yes. Me too.”
“What happened?” His hand stroked my arm again. “How did you end up single, hm? A wonderful woman like you. I want to know. But I hope I am not being too bold.”
“No. You’re not.” This was a person I could trust, or so I thought. “My husband was very sweet when I married him. He drank, but so did everyone else. But then it became a problem. I couldn’t trust him anymore.” I’d leave it there.
“And Lexi?”
“She was only four at the time of our divorce. The decree stipulated that he could not drink when he had her for the weekend. After a couple of years, he grew lax. One night, he tried to make potato pancakes with her for dinner. There was too much oil in the pan. Of course he felt terrible.” My voice trembled.
“Ay.” Marco hissed. In that moment he could see it. And I loved him for that.
Waiting, he looked at me. Where was I? “She’s had many surgeries on that arm and it could have been worse. But I blame myself.”
“Oh, Christina.” Enfolding me in his arms, Marco rocked me. Of course by then I was crying. How I wished I hadn’t started down this path.
I couldn’t think when he kissed the top of my head. After a few moments, I gently pushed away. He held my hand while I got back on track. “But enough of that sadness. It’s important that we all do what we want in this life. I love teaching or I wouldn’t be in the classroom.”
“You are a very good teacher,” Marco muttered, playing with my fingers. “Gregorio tells me this. He never liked any of his tutors as much as he likes you.”
Aw, that turned me to mush again. “I’m happy to hear that. Marco, I want only what is best for Gregorio. That’s my job as a teacher. I know you feel that way too.”
“Yes, of course. My son. My only child.”
“Do you think Gregorio would be happy at Harvard? Is this what he wants to do? Work on a business major so that he can run the vineyard one day?” I put the question out there.
Dropping my hand, Marco frowned. “Well, I think so, yes. It is his heritage.” The words were as firm and certain as the stonework in his castle.
“Have you asked him?”
