Heads and hearts and hands.
When I opened my eyes, Achille was gazing down at me, his skin glistening in the moonlight. “How do you say it?” he asked. I blinked, unsure what he meant. “In English,” he asked. “How do you say ‘Ti amo?’”
I smiled. “I love you,” I said in English, slowly, so he could hear each word.
“I . . . love . . . you . . .” he echoed, his heavy Italian accent bringing such life to such beautiful words.
“Why did you want to know it in English?” I asked as he lifted my left hand and ran the tip of his finger over the vine ring.
“Because I wanted to be able to say it in both of your languages.” His familiar teasing smirk came to his mouth. “Though I believe it sounds better in Italian.” His smile fell. “I love you forever,” he said tenderly.
Ti amo per sempre.
I agreed; it sounded better in Italian.
“I love you too.” I wanted him left in no doubt of how I felt. But I could see the disbelief in every part of his face. I could see the slither of doubt in his eyes. I vowed to make it so I never saw it again.
He brushed back my hair. “I want to take you in front of my fire, in my home.”
I nodded. Achille got to his feet, then lifted me into his arms. “Can’t have the duchessa’s feet getting dirty,” he teased.
I laughed, deciding this playful side of Achille was my favorite. For it was as rare as a shooting star, but no less memorable. “I think they already are.”
Achille shrugged as he carried me with ease toward his house. “Then I will just hold you in my arms. You look right there. You feel right there too.”
I let my head fall against his shoulder and my arms wrap around his neck as we entered his pretty garden. He didn’t put me back down until we were in front of the fire. My feet landed on the soft sheepskin rug that sat before the hearth. Achille disappeared into his bedroom and returned with his comforter and two pillows. He placed them down before the fire. I went to sit down, but he took hold of my hand and drew me to where he stood. Silently, he pushed the sleeves of my dress off my shoulders, the delicate fabric falling to the floor. I hadn’t worn underwear, the dress’s fit not designed for anything to be worn underneath.
Achille’s eyes flared as his gaze roved over my naked body. He brought his thumbs into the waistband of his pants and stripped himself of them.
We were both bared, in both body and soul, before each other and the climbing fire.
It was perfect.
I kicked my dress to the side. Achille sat on the floor in front of the fire and held out his hand. I went to him in an instant, letting him draw me down until my back lay against his chest. He brought the comforter over us both and piled the pillows behind his back.
Blanketed by the fire, Achille and his warmth, I stared into the flames and watched as they danced, swirls of oranges, yellows and reds. I wasn’t sure how long we sat there in silence, but it could have been eternity. I had never been more content than to simply sit in contemplative silence.
Achille’s hand drifted to my stomach. I stilled; it resembled how an expectant father would hold the stomach of his pregnant wife. “Caresa?”
“Don’t worry, I am on birth control.”
Achille exhaled a long breath. “I would not feel worry if you carried my child,” he said quietly.
My heart swelled.
Achille shifted his hand, and the next thing I knew, a book was placed on my lap. The title read Greatest Wines of the World. I glanced up from where my head was tucked into the crook between Achille’s shoulder and neck. His long black lashes kissed the tops of his cheeks. He chewed on his lip as though he was nervous. But I waited, with a racing heart, to find out why he had brought out this book.
Achille had improved so dramatically in the weeks that I had been helping him with his dyslexia. But having seen his pile of books earlier, I knew that was mostly down to him. He must have been reading every night, searching for the words that had been out of reach his whole life.
He was a fighter.
He wasn’t giving up this time.
Achille cleared his throat, and with careful concentration, opened the book to a bookmarked page. Achille lifted the book, placing his finger on the chosen sentence so he could track the words. I felt him swallow deeply, then take a deep breath. With my breath held and my eyes wide, I listened as he read. “It is ar . . . argued . . .” He paused and collected his thoughts. “That . . . the best . . . merl . . . merlot . . . in the world . . . do . . . does not co . . . come from France . . . but fr . . . from . . . Um . . . Umbria, Italy.” I didn’t move as he gathered his composure again and continued. “The most sou . . . sought-after wine . . . hai . . . hails from . . . Sav . . . Savona Wines’ . . . Bella Collina estate.” Achille read the final part of the sentence silently to himself, then said, “2008 is re . . . regarded as the best . . . vin . . . vintage . . . to date.”
Achille released a heavy sigh and lowered the open book. His chin rested on my shoulder as he reached down and ran his finger under the words “Bella Collina”.
“Bella Collina,” he said proudly, earning every ounce of that pride in his voice. “Bella Collina. My home. I can read the name of my home.”
This time there was no hiding the tears in my eyes, nor the thick emotion in my voice. I turned in Achille’s arms and got to my knees, hearing the book thud to the floor. I pressed my hands to his cheeks and watched as he searched my eyes. “I love you,” I whispered, then brought my lips to his. “I am so proud of you, Achille. So proud I can barely even breathe.”
Achille kissed me back, and we made long, sweet love before the fire, the flames warming our bodies as they joined on the sheepskin rug. We slept in each other’s arms, a newfound peace settling in our hearts.
I woke to Achille’s sweet lips pressing kisses to my neck. “Mm . . .” I murmured, arching my neck so he could caress me more.
“Mi amore,” he whispered, his minty breath filling my nose. “Come with me.”
I struggled to open my eyes, wanting nothing more than to make this morning last just a few hours more. I didn’t want to leave this fire, nor this rug, nor his arms.
“Please,” he begged softly, moving his lips to the edges of my mouth.
“Where are we going?” I asked, wiping the sleep from my eyes.
“I want to show you something.” I sat up. Achille was already dressed in his jeans and a shirt. He held out some old black jodhpurs and one of his familiar red flannel shirts. A pair of leather ankle riding boots lay beside me.
“They were my mother’s. The shirt is mine. I didn’t think you would be able to ride in your gown.”
I playfully stuck out my tongue at Achille and was rewarded with a laugh and wide smile. I was fully awake now.
Achille handed me the clothes. He had even included socks and a pair of his boxer shorts for me to wear. He chuckled to himself as I put them on. The jodhpurs fit well enough, as did the ankle boots, but Achille’s shirt hung low, and the sleeves drowned my hands. I rolled them up to my wrists. I stood before Achille and held out my arms. “Do I still look like a duchessa to you?”
I was teasing. He knew I was teasing. But when he moved forward and kissed my lips, he still said, “You will always be a duchessa. But now you are my duchessa. And that I can live with.” He held out his hand. “Come, I’ve already tacked up the horses.”
Achille led me outside. Nico and Rosa were waiting for us beside the paddock. I glanced up at the sky. “Achille, it’s still dark,” I said. “What time is it?”
“Early.” He helped me mount Rosa and then swung himself on to Nico’s back. “But I want you to see something. I . . . I wanted to share a moment with you.”
“Okay,” I replied at the hopeful expression on his face.
Together we walked the horses out of his vineyard and onto the track outside. The birds were beginning to wake from the trees around us, but the rest of the world was still asleep. There was me, Achille, the horses and his vines. All he claimed he could offer, yet in that moment, I needed nothing more.
We walked side by side until we turned right and began climbing a hill. We climbed and we climbed at a leisurely pace until the horses were breathless and we made it to the very top.