Chapter 26
KARINA
Marco is going to win this race. He had a strong start and hasn’t given an inch since, each lap only serving to cement his inevitable victory. It’s exhilarating to watch.
He maneuvers his car so well and has so much control over the track that the other drivers don’t have a fighting chance.
He must have taken all his triumph over bringing Livvie home safely—and all his frustration over losing to Pietro at the last race—and poured it into this battle, because he is unstoppable.
The stadium is packed, the spectators on the edge of their seats.
The excitement of the racing announcers coming over the PA speakers only adds to the high energy.
I’m already proud of my husband, but I can’t help feeling even more gratified today.
By the time Marco’s car flies past the checkered flag, I’m thrumming with ecstatic adrenaline. Dante is with me, and he seems just as pleased that his brother has regained the trophy, so to speak. Marco is back on top, exactly where he’s supposed to be.
There is no afterparty today. Some of the drivers get together in the pits to have a drink, though, and to my surprise, Marco has Dante bring me down to join him.
I find myself drinking cheap beer while the heels of my expensive shoes sink into the dirt, surrounded by race cars and their exuberant drivers, along with a few bright-eyed fans that have been allowed in the pits.
It’s perfect. Marco keeps an arm around my waist while he talks to the other drivers, and the feeling of being so effortlessly included makes my heart take wing.
We’ve gone so long acting like strangers, but today, he’s making me a part of his life. I truly feel like I belong at his side, and I’m so glad Pietro wasn’t racing today. It means I don’t have to keep looking over my shoulder every other minute. I can just enjoy myself.
After the first round of beers, Dante leaves us, and Marco and I spend the next hour with his racing friends.
The afternoon is getting late by the time he decides he’s ready to go.
He takes my hand and leads me into the belly of the building, where he slips into a locker room to get out of his leathers, shower, and change.
To my surprise, he emerges in a crisp button-down and slacks.
I had assumed we were heading home after this, but his clothes suggest otherwise.
Hitching a brow, I look down at myself and then back at him. “Are we going somewhere to celebrate?” I ask, suddenly feeling underdressed.
I’m wearing a simple navy wrap dress, nude heels, and minimal makeup which has long since faded. My emerald studs and matching pendant provide the only color, and yes, I did pick my outfit to match Marco’s car.
“You look perfect,” he tells me, kissing my cheek.
“So, we are going somewhere then? Is it fancy?”
One side of his mouth turns into a cocky grin. “You’re about to find out.”
He takes my hand again and we head to his car.
I don’t miss how his gaze darts around as he keeps a firm grip on my hand, like he’s half expecting my uncle’s men to jump out at us from the shadows, but I pretend not to notice.
My gut feeling all day has been that we aren’t being watched.
He finally seems to relax again as we pull out of the parking lot and head toward Napa.
Marco repeatedly glances over at me as he drives. It’s driving me crazy, because I know there’s something he wants to say. Finally, I put my hand on his knee.
“Come on. Out with it.”
“What?” he says innocently.
“You keep looking at me like there’s something on your mind but you’re having trouble spitting it out. So go ahead,” I coax.
He huffs a little laugh. “You know me that well, already, huh?”
I suppose I have picked up on the little nuances of his personality. “I’m working on it.”
“Okay. So. The thing is, Karina…” He trails off for a moment, brows furrowed, before clearing his throat and trying again.
“I just wanted to say that…I know it took us way too long to get here—emotionally, physically, all of it—but…I’m glad we made it.
I’m glad you’re the one sitting next to me right now.
That you’re the one I’ll have by my side, in my corner, even on the days when I act like a royal asshole. ”
I laugh a little, but I can tell that he’s genuinely struggling to open up to me with this heartfelt speech.
He keeps his eyes on the road as he merges into traffic, and I realize that he chose to tell me this in the car because driving is his happy place, and that he’s probably nervous to be so honest, so vulnerable with me.
“I’m sorry things have been so…far from perfect,” he says quietly. “But I plan to make up for lost time, starting now. Because you deserve the world, Karina. Nothing less.”
My throat tightens with emotion. “Thank you.”
Dammit, I’m going to cry. I don’t question his sincerity. I can hear it in his voice, the softness of his expression. When he looks over at me again, I see it in his eyes.
“Ah. Here we are,” he announces, pulling onto a dirt road.
“Where are we, exactly?” I ask.
But he doesn’t have to answer, because we’re approaching a sign that says we’re entering the Napa Valley Botanical Gardens.
“I know how much you love your gardens,” Marco says.
“I do,” I agree, but what’s flashing through my mind right now is every charged touch, every secret kiss, every erotic moment that he and I have ever shared in this exact type of setting.
“Good,” Marco says with a grin. “Because I made some special arrangements for us.”
Those arrangements turn out to be a private tour for just the two of us that covers an incredible Bonsai Garden of tiny trees, the richly perfumed Fragrance Garden, a tranquil Buddhist Garden with pagodas and raked sand, and, finally, a domed glass pavilion that houses palms, rubber trees, banana plants, ferns, and a vast array of orchids and other tropical flowers.
It’s humid inside, but I fall in love with the rich, earthy scent and the birds with their feathers in every shade of the rainbow.
They perch overhead and call to each other, swooping from branch to branch.
There’s even a waterfall that spills into a river that circles the perimeter of the pavilion.
It’s a wonderland. I take in the sights with stars in my eyes, excitedly clinging to Marco the whole time.
When we’re done, he leads me out into the cool air again and toward the English Rose Garden at the far end of the property.
We weave our way through a hedge maze cut from boxwoods, topiary shrubs cut into animals and geometric shapes, splashing sculptural fountains and spiraling cypresses.
At the center, we come upon a table positioned under the dappled shade of a flowering tree with slender but sprawling limbs.
The table is set with afternoon tea, sandwiches, and scones with clotted cream, an array of little cakes. Marco gestures for me to sit.
“Is…is all this really for us?” I ask.
“I told you I made arrangements,” he says, pulling out a chair for me with a grin. “The place is technically closed now, but it’s completely ours for the next hour.”
“This is unbelievable,” I say, sinking onto the chair. “I love this. Thank you.”
He drops to one knee before me and takes my face in his hands. “Close your eyes for me, Karina. Listen to the birds. Feel that sun on your skin. Smell those roses. Deep breaths.”
I do as he asks, feeling my entire body relax as I soak up the heavenly atmosphere, the joy I feel in this moment, the warmth of my husband’s palms against my cheeks.
“Are you with me?” he says.
I nod. “Yes,” I whisper.
“I want you to always be able to come back to this memory. And for the rest of your life, whenever you smell roses, I want you to think of this. Of us, here, together. I want you to think of how much…how much I love you.”
My eyes fly open as I gasp and reach for him. He’s already pulling me up into his arms and kissing me.
“I love you too,” I murmur between kisses.
“I love you,” he repeats, again and again, as if it’s giving him strength.
I say it back to him every single time, my heart growing just a little bit fuller with each declaration, with each kiss. We can’t seem to get close enough to each other. My heart is soaring.
Marco loves me.
We kiss until we’re breathless, laughing, our lips swollen, both of us drunk on sensation.
I can barely keep myself from ripping his shirt off and dragging him into the maze to have my way with him.
I rest my palms against his smooth, well-muscled chest, my face flushed hot with desire.
Marco smiles, running a finger over my cheek and across my lips.
I’ve never seen him like this. The look on his face says it all.
After we eat, I’m just about to ask if it’s time to go when Marco moves his chair closer to mine and says, “I have one more surprise for you.”
He reaches into his jacket pocket and holds out a velvet box, opening it so I can see inside. A gasp escapes my lips. It’s a brand new diamond engagement ring.
It’s stunning. Modern and elegant, exuding quiet strength, with a crystal-clear emerald-cut diamond positioned horizontally in a thick, half-bezel setting. I’ve never seen one like it.
“I know you said you’re not into jewelry, and I told you we’d pick the engagement ring out together, but when I saw this one, I knew it was perfect for you,” he says.
“Oh my God. It is perfect,” I murmur. “It’s gorgeous.”
“Are you ready to wear it?” he asks, suddenly sounding a little hesitant.
“Yes!” I’m already nodding as I hold out my hand.
He takes his time slipping the ring on my finger, nestling it snugly against my wedding band. I take a second to admire the way the new ring’s diamond spans the width of my finger, the way it catches the sunlight, sparkling like magic, and then he closes his hand over mine.
I smile up at him, pulling him down for another kiss. “Take me home, Marco. I want to be alone with you.”