She nodded, tears welling in her eyes.
“But she was wrong.”
“What?” Andi wiped at a few spraystray tears and turned. “She was?”
“Yup.” I turned her around to face the other side of the room. Her back was to me. I wrapped my arms around her and whispered, “I wouldn’t have stopped at Africa or China. I would have taken her to London.” A small Ferris wheel was outside, facing the window. “It’s not the London Eye but… it will have to do.”
Andi didn’t say anything. So I walked her closer to the window and pulled the curtains. “But who stops at London?” I whispered, my ears grazing her ear, my tongue trailing the soft skin. “Especially when France is so close.” A miniature version of a lit-up Eiffel tower stood next to the Ferris wheel.
“And then…” I turned her back around to face me as I pulled a small postcard out of my pocket. “…when all was said and done, I would have taken you home.”
I handed her the postcard of the Kremlin.
Andi’s hands shook as she took it¸ her eyes sad. “I’ve never been.”
“Well, it was a bit hard to find a miniature version of the Kremlin. Believe me, I tried, so I figured a postcard would work just as well.”
She frowned. “How do you figure?”
I grabbed the pen from my back pocket. “Because you can write it as if you were there and send it to whomever you want.”
“But if I’ve never been—”
“The colors…” I twirled her around to face the window. “…I’ve heard are like fireworks…” I checked my watch and sighed in relief as the first blue firework went off. “…constantly changing before your very eyes.” Another firework, this one green. “The building itself looks magical, almost unreal, but it’s the color of the building that creates an atmosphere of pure beauty.” More fireworks filled the sky above the house.
Andi covered her mouth with her hands.
“And just when you think you’ve stared long enough, just when you think you understand the beauty it represents…” The fireworks went crazy; it looked like hundreds of them were going off. “…it surprises you again.”
“It’s beautiful,” she whispered in reverence.
Slowly, I let her go.
When she turned to face me, I was already on my knees.
Andi covered her mouth with her hands.
“I never asked.” My voice trembled. “I never had the honor of asking you to be my wife.” I reached into my pocket and pulled out a three-karat princess-cut diamond ring. “And I wondered, if you felt as cheated as I did, that we never had this moment.”
Tears poured down her face.
“So Andi…” I held up the ring higher. “…will you do me the greatest honor of my life — and be my wife?”
“Yes!” She didn’t even grab the ring but grabbed me instead, kissing me so hard on the mouth that I stumbled backward. “I love you.”
Laughing, I swung her around. “I love you too.”
I swung her around again, knowing she liked more than one twirl, and placed the ring on her finger. “So, did you really want to work on number four now, or did you want to ride the Ferris wheel?”
“The Ferris wheel can wait.” She pulled her shirt over her head and tossed it at my face. “I can’t.”
CHAPTER FORTY-TWO
Sergio
I THINK, LOOKING BACK AT THIS MOMENT, I would always struggle with fully describing the way my heart hammered against my chest, the electric feeling of my hands as they roamed freely across her body.
How do you describe something that’s indescribable? You don’t. You can’t. It’s impossible. And I knew, five years from now — or ten, maybe twenty — I’d still be walking around with a smile on my face when I recalled the moment she was mine — the moments I owned her, and she owned me, the moments our hearts were one, our souls united.
“Sergio…”
Her shirt went flying, her bra followed, her jeans. I’d never seen someone undress so fast and was slightly humiliated that I couldn’t keep up, that I wanted her to go slow so I could savor every second my eyes were allowed the pleasure to gaze upon her beauty.
“…make love to me. Make it good.”
“I can make it good,” I whispered. “But you’ll have to forgive me.”
She frowned.
“Forgive me…” I smiled. “…if I stand here a moment longer than I should — because I feel like you deserve to be stared at. Hell, you deserve to be worshipped, but I’m not that patient of a man, so at least give me this — one minute, sixty seconds — give me that, and I’ll make love to you. I’ll make it so good you never forget.”
“Even in my death.”
“In life or death.” I shook my head and licked my lips as I took a cautious step toward her. “You’ll never forget this — or forget us. I swear it.”
She nodded, her eyes pooling with tears again.
I reached out and touched her arm, my hand slowly caressing up toward her shoulder. I could never understand how her skin could be so soft. “Every touch feels like the first.”
Her eyes closed. “It does… it really does.”
“I think… I’ll remember this moment…” I sighed. “…forever.”