Page 57 of The Honest Affair

She didn’t respond.

“My sympathies are more with Calaf, though.”

She lifted her head. “The beggar who wants to marry her? Why? All he does is trick her.”

I shrugged. “Only to show her the farce of the whole system. And remember, at the end of the night, when she realizes she’s doomed to marry him…he gives up his name of his own accord. He’d rather die anyway than entrap the woman he loves. He would do anything to make her happy.” I stroked her hair, gently. “I understand how he feels.”

She stopped swaying, pressed her hands to my chest, framing the cross and San Gennaro token that dangled between her fingers.

“Oh, Matthew,” she said softly. “But he’s wrong. Don’t you know that? He’s completely wrong.”

“How do you figure?” Opera was the language of love, wasn’t it? If Puccini didn’t get it, what hope was there for anyone else?

“I didn’t understand this until I met you, but love isn’t about sacrifice. It’s not about clipping your own wings so your partner can fly, hoping desperately they’ll carry you with them. It’s about…” She chewed on her bottom lip a moment, trying to sort it out. “It’s about making it safe to soar together.”

My heart thumped like a drum at the truth in her voice. Oh God. Oh my fucking God. She was so damn right it hurt.

“And do I?” I asked, my heart now stuck in my throat as I tried not to hold her too close. “Nina, do I make you feel safe? I want to, baby. I want to so fucking badly.”

She touched her nose to mine, her eyes squeezed tightly shut.

“You did once,” she whispered. “I believe you will again.” When she opened her eyes, they were shining. She hiccupped slightly. “I have faith, you know?”

It melted my cold, scarred heart.

“God, do I ever,” I murmured, then captured her lips with mine.

We swayed together a bit longer, body pressed to body, mouth brushing mouth, tongue occasionally even touching tongue, until the music finally ended. Nina laid her head on my shoulder, clearly exhausted, whether from the last few days’ travel or the intensity of the conversation.

“Come on, baby,” I told her, and then, before she could say anything, I bent down and swept her into my arms, holding her to my chest. Precious cargo. The most.

“Let me put you to bed,” I told her as I carried her there.

Her hand remained clenched into the back of my hair, even as I laid her on the bed.

“Shh,” I told her as she nuzzled into my chest.

“Don’t go,” she murmured, pulling me close. “Please stay with me.”

I brought her knuckles to my lips and pressed kisses to her empty left ring finger. “I’m here.”

There was the urge to do more, of course. I knew in my soul that I’d want this woman carnally until the day I died, and there was a good chance she’d let me have my way, too. I could sink her into the linens, cage her under my body. And she’d give, because in her own way, Nina had never been more vulnerable.

But for once, I was in no hurry to take her. Because for once, the sun rising the next day wasn’t a threat, but a blessing. We weren’t limited to a few short hours to get what we needed from each other’s bodies, maybe our hearts if we could. Tonight, we had a little bit more. We had tomorrow, and the next day, and maybe the next day, too.

That night, my dreams didn’t haunt me. My mind stayed blank, my thoughts at peace. Because all I had ever wanted was safe in my arms. And for once, I was safe in hers.

---