Epilogue
CATARINA LOOKED OUT at the sparkling fjord and the beach that spread out in front of them, a long, empty stretch of white sand below the green hillside and rocky cliffs.
They had hiked down the winding trail from their house to the shore in search of the perfect picnic spot to celebrate their second anniversary.
The sun was warm on her skin, and the sky was a bright, cloudless blue that her mother would have loved.
The thought of her mother no longer held the sharp pain it had before she met Massimo.
The ache of her loss was a larger part of the passage of time in her life, and time had brought her not only great sorrow but also great joy, particularly in the form of the man who now held her hand.
“Here?” he asked, gesturing to their favorite spot, just above the tide line.
Catarina nodded, and Massimo set his pack in the sand. She shook out an enormous beach blanket, and they unloaded an assortment of small containers of food that Signe had prepared for them with strict instructions not to peek, as well as a bottle of wine and one of sparkling water.
When their picnic was neatly arranged, Massimo sat on the blanket and lifted off his shirt.
Catarina couldn’t keep her eyes off the movement of his well-honed muscles.
His bronze skin glowed in the sun, and she felt a bolt of familiar desire spread through her.
Massimo flashed her a wicked smile, as if he could read her thoughts.
His hair had gotten a bit longer, and it hung over his forehead with a casualness that still surprised her.
He was so different from the man she had met in her father’s library.
And over the past couple of years, she had felt more truly herself than she ever had.
“I’d like a swim first,” she said. “Join me?”
Massimo leaned back on his arms and stretched out his long legs. “Not a chance in this cold. But I’d love to watch.”
She stripped off her dress, revealing a new tiny bikini, and she could feel the heat of Massimo’s gaze on her.
“Don’t take too much time,” he added with a roughness in his voice as she headed for the water.
As she crossed the sun-warmed sand, she thought about the first years of their marriage.
They had proved better than she had imagined.
Massimo had suggested that she could find a role in the family business, but Catarina had decided she wanted to do something that was truly her own.
When she told him as much, he had surprised her with how he immediately deferred to whatever she chose.
What he wanted in return was something she was willing to give freely: her love.
And in that balance, a bond had grown between them, one that would last, regardless of the path she chose.
This had been the key to her parents’ success in marriage, after all—the fact that they both genuinely had wanted the other to flourish.
Massimo had spent every single day of the past two years showing her that he wanted the same for her.
On the topic of a baby, when they’d first gotten married, they had decided to wait.
While she had been thrilled with that possibility, she’d also wanted time for the two of them to strengthen their relationship and figure out how to best live their lives together.
And after some consideration, Catarina had decided to pursue a career in music education.
While the piano remained a private pursuit, she was excited by the idea of spreading her love of music to others.
“I’d like to have our own children after I know myself a little better,” she had told him.
“Whatever makes you happy,” he had responded, leaning in for another salacious kiss. “I’m enjoying getting to know every part of you, over and over again.”
But now she had graduated from the music education program, and things were changing again…
Catarina waded into the sea until the cool water lapped at her waist. Then she dove under, focusing on the weightlessness of her body, the refreshing chill against her hot skin.
She swam out into the endless blue of her favorite place on earth, then turned back to shore.
Massimo’s gaze was still fixed on her. She swam in and crossed the sand as his gaze dropped to her barely covered breasts, then to her slick, wet thighs.
Passing up the towel he offered, she instead lowered herself onto him, straddling him, feeling the satisfying hardening against her core.
He laughed as she pressed her body against his sun-kissed skin.
“Happy anniversary to me,” he whispered in her ear with a deep rumble of humor and lust. “Is there something you’re not telling me?”
He took the weight of her breasts in his hands, as if he could already feel the way they would soon start growing fuller.
She bit her lip. “I missed my period a week ago, but I was waiting to be sure.”
He paused and pulled back a little. His eyes were filled with the kind of hope he was still learning to show. “Are you feeling okay?”
The corners of her mouth tugged up. “Much better than okay.”
His eyes burned with that intense heat she couldn’t seem to get enough of. “Now we have something else to celebrate.”
He urged her down, against his warm body, and she tasted the salt on his lips, as he kissed her in that way that always made her forget everything else.
“Maybe we should wait until we are back at the house?” she said with a breathless laugh. “What will the gossip magazines say if someone finds us here?”
It still amazed her that they could now laugh at something that used to haunt his life. But love worked the kind of magic that still surprised her every day.
He pressed his lips to her neck. “They will say I am hopelessly in love with my wife, the way they always do these days.”