I would always love him.
We kissed for an indecently long time. One of us would try to pull back, only to have the other reach for them, starting the process all over again.
Eventually, Jack lifted his head. “I was going to wait, talk things over with you . . . but I can’t help it.” He paused, his eyes welling with emotion. “I love you, Chiara D’Angelo.”
Oh!
“You do?” My voice climbed three octaves. “B-but I’m crazy.”
“Yes. I know, but I love you just as you are.”
“Oh, Jack!”
I hugged him. It might have been more of a stranglehold.
“Air. Ribs.”
“Sorry.” I instantly let go, sitting back, chewing on my lip. Jack leaned forward and kissed my mouth.
“You’re thinking too loudly again,” he said.
I pursed my lips, looking away and then bringing my gaze back to his. “Are you sure you love me? You’ve totally seen me at my worst with guys. You know I’m thoughtless and obnoxious, but I’ll try to control the crazy, I promise—”
“Hush.”
I pulled back. Had he justhushedme—?
“I like your brand of crazy.” Jack smiled, huge and delighted. “I never feel as alive as I do with you,Chiara mia.”
I blinked.
Oh.
“Well, then.” I licked my lips.
He touched my cheek, gently cupping my face in his enormous palm. His blue eyes brimmed. “Let me be perfectly clear. I loveyou, Chiara Elisabeta Carolina D’Angelo. You. I love your endless crazy curiosity. I love the enthusiasm you have for life. I love that the entire world is washed in vivid color when I’m with you. I adore how much love your big heart holds for your family and friends. I love that I want to be a better person when I am with you.”
“Jack—”
“No. I don’t want to hear any caveats put on this. I didn’t wait two hundred years for you to write off how I feel. It’s you. For me, it’salwaysbeen you.” He gave me a little emphasizing shake.
Somehow, I was crying again, swiping tears as they fell.
“I love you, too, Jack Knight-Snow.”
“I know,” was his smug reply.
I narrowed my eyes.
Jack laughed.
And suddenly all was right with the world.
Three days later, I had made a decision. More to the point, Iactedon my decision.
Jack had been ‘properly courting’ me, he said, because I deserved to be treasured. To that end, he had sent me flowers, love poetry and a gorgeous platinum sparrow necklace.
He had hitched a ride up to Florence from Volterra with Tennyson the day before. Jack and I had an amazing afternoon shopping in town, followed by dinner and a moonlit walk.
