Of course she remembered how they once were. But the passion between them did not compare to what she had with Giovanni during those short weeks. “Maybe it’s you that needs to rejoin the living and not me,” she said. “Find someone to love you the way you deserve.”
“No. I had that person. She’s standing before me.”
Mira spoke calmly with no compassion in her eyes or smile of tenderness. “I don’t want what we had. I didn’t when we broke up and nothing has changed. I just need to raise my daughter in peace. It’s not her fault that her parents got it wrong. And even if I only knew him for three weeks, I knew enough about him to know he’d want to love her too. So I gave her his name, gave her the identity I can’t have. That makes me happy.”
“If Fabiana were here what would she say about the woman you are now? And you’re right. We can’t go public because your life would be in jeopardy. Those men who killed her, who killed Angelique and Eduardo are still out there. They need to believe you’re dead.”
He rose. This time his touch was soft, apologetic. And when his lips brushed her shoulder she felt their shared passion from before, like a spark in her cold barren heart. He didn’t push her. He embraced her from behind and rested his chin on her shoulder as an act of compassion not a move for seduction. “I love you, Mira.”
She chose her words carefully with her eyes closed. “Give me a little more time. Maybe I’ll find a way to move forward. I just need a little more time.”
“We have all the time in the world.”
****
Giovanni walked up the tiny steps and ducked as he entered the hull of the private plane. Dominic, Lorenzo, Carlo, Renaldo and Carmine all followed. He would fly back to Napoli first and conclude business. Then they would all make the trip to Switzerland.
Underneath his deepest feelings of disappointment and anger he felt profound relief. Mira lived. Somewhere out there she existed. She hadn’t died because of him. The nightmare he’d been living for two years was over. Or so he wished. There remained the fact that she’d fled him to be with another man while he suffered and mourned her death. He never thought of hurting her. He’d never laid a hand on any woman. However, his rage toward her now had him dangerously close. The man, whoever he was, was a dead bastard for coming in between them. Taking a seat near the window he pressed his lips together and relaxed, closing his eyes.
Dominic dropped next to him with something in his hand.
Giovanni opened his eyes. His consigliere brought the envelope of photos and journal he had tossed aside. He glanced up at him frowning.
“I thought you might want them.” Dominic said, keeping his gaze trained forward.
Giovanni secretly had. He only tossed them away in front of his men to save face. He accepted the package with a small grunt of thanks. As the plane taxied down the runway he removed the photos and studied her image again. She’d better have one hell of a reason for running from him. No matter how Flavio had intervened she was supposed to know his heart.
Lorenzo stuffed his overnight bag in the overhead compartment. He looked over at Giovanni who hadn’t spoken again since they left his home. He knew his cousin struggled with the news of his lover’s resurrection. He couldn’t fathom how he’d feel if Fabiana had lived. There was also more truth. Something Lorenzo discovered only days ago. Mira Ellison had a baby, a brown baby with blue eyes that looked uniquely like his cousin’s. She had named her Eve Fabiana Battaglia. Lorenzo buckled his seatbelt smiling. His cousin was in for one hell of a reunion.
Chapter Three
Morning came quick. Mira felt as if she’d slept on a bed of rocks. She tossed and turned all night with dreams she couldn’t recall. She managed to cover herself with her robe and make it downstairs to prepare breakfast on steady legs. However, fatigue weighed her eyelids and she kept yawning uncontrollably. Her gaze lifted from the step in time to keep from colliding with Kei. He waited for her in the narrow stairwell, evidently having heard her rise.
“Morning.”