The From Paris With Love And Regency Season Of Secrets Ultimate Collection. Кэрол Мортимер

just as it was impossible to separate reality from fantasy. Because this was how she wanted to remember him, a swirling, evocative explosion of feeling.

      So they danced, and afterwards she couldn’t remember if there had been anyone else on the dance floor with them, absorbed so totally in the man she was dancing with, and it didn’t matter because she was with him. He held her close, so close that she could barely breathe, so close that there was no distance between them, no barrier to the growing heat, the building tension as they whirled, entwined, around the dance floor.

      Would he take her to bed and make love to her again tonight? She wanted nothing more to end this night, other than a promise to meet again soon. And meanwhile every sensation, every powerful, evocative feeling, was stored away in Gabriella’s memory so that until that time she could pull them out and examine them all over again, one by precious one, in the nights when she would inevitably be alone.

      Meanwhile, she lost all sense of time. She only knew that the sun had long departed and the moon had risen and she feared the night must come to an end. But he saved her from the end just yet and suggested a walk along the beach before they went home.

      She slipped her jewelled sandals off before venturing onto the sand and he offered her his hand so she might carry her sandals and the skirt of her gown without losing balance. She slipped her hand into his. She saw his heated smile and felt his warm grip and let both seep deep into her bones. So what that she was leaving tomorrow? She was going to enjoy every moment of this last night with him.

      Just one last night …

      The beach was long and almost empty, the season late; what day trippers there had been had long since departed. The beach was theirs, a long strip of sand glowing under the light of the full moon, the air balmy and still, the dark waters laced with silver.

      ‘Did I tell you,’ he said after they’d walked hand in hand in companionable silence for some way, ‘How beautiful you look tonight?’

      Her breath hitched, her heart fluttered in her chest like a winged beast. ‘No,’ she said. ‘I don’t believe you did.’

      ‘Then I am remiss. So let me tell you now.’ He stopped walking then and turned to her. ‘Tonight you are more beautiful than I have ever seen you. More beautiful than the sun setting over the most beautiful city in the world, more beautiful than the pearl of a moon hanging heavy in the sky.’

      There was so much power in his words, so much depth and feeling, that her heart almost burst from her chest to embrace him. But at the same time she knew she dared not believe him. ‘Thank you, Raoul, but I wish you wouldn’t say such things.’

      ‘Why shouldn’t I tell you what I think?’

      ‘Because I am leaving tomorrow, and you will only make it harder—for me, at least.’

      ‘Then don’t leave.’

      She laughed a little uncertainly and turned, starting to walk back the other way. ‘We’ve been through this. I have to go. I can’t stay here for ever.’

      ‘And what about what happened last night? Didn’t that mean anything to you?’

      ‘Hey, I wasn’t the one who left this morning without saying goodbye.’

      ‘I knew you were angry with me.’

      ‘No. I’m not angry.’ She thought about the talk she’d had with Phillipa earlier today, the sense her friend had made, even though the thought of leaving and missing out on more nights like she’d spent last night …But, no, space and distance were what she needed now. Head space. Physical distance. ‘Last night was amazing. But everything has happened so quickly, I need some time to work it all out. To work out what I want.’

      He took her hand and squeezed it. ‘I understand.’

      They walked a little way to the sound of the sea lapping at the shore, music and laughter wafting on the breeze from a party somewhere up the coast, and she thought that was the end of the matter until he said, ‘Can I let you in on a secret?’

      She turned to him. ‘Of course.’

      He stopped her and took her hand to his mouth, pressing his lips against her palm, sending a sizzle all the way to her toes. ‘A long time ago, I made a promise to myself. Last night, in your bed, I was tempted to break it.’

      She shook her head, confused, laughing just a little to try to ease the tension. ‘I’m not sure I understand.’

      ‘You see, I do not break promises easily. And wanting to break a promise made me hurt you, I think, by leaving this morning without a word.’

      ‘You had business, you said.’

      ‘I did. But I did not have to leave you to do it. I was afraid of what might happen if I stayed.’

      ‘Raoul,’ she said, her heart tripping, ‘What are you saying?’

      ‘A long time ago I vowed never to marry again. I promised myself that I would never take another wife. But last night, in your bed, I came close to breaking that vow—so close that it scared me.’

      Every cell in her body froze; her lungs squeezed tight, so tight she could barely get out the words. ‘I don’t think I understand.’

      ‘I panicked this morning. I behaved stupidly and left you, and I hurt you and made you angry when that was the last thing I wanted to do. What I really wanted to do was ask you, Bella, if you would do me the honour of becoming my wife.’

      ‘Raoul …’

      ‘I know I don’t deserve it, Bella. I know I am the last person you would want to marry, and the least deserving, but would you consider my proposal anyway? Would you marry me?’

      ‘You’re serious. You’re actually serious.’

      ‘I have never been more serious in my life.’

      She looked up at him, his eyes so intent that for a second she was tempted—oh, so tempted—to fall into those dark depths and believe him.

      But, no! She shook her head and started walking down the beach away from him, her heart thumping like a drum, making so much noise it was no surprise she couldn’t think straight. ‘Raoul, that’s just crazy.’

      ‘Don’t you think I know that?’ she heard him call. ‘Don’t you see why I couldn’t face you this morning?’

      No. She couldn’t think. And she couldn’t see that. She couldn’t see anything, not with the sudden tears streaming down her face as she stumbled along the sand.

      She wasn’t even sure what she was running from. Didn’t she want Raoul to want her? Except that it almost seemed too much, too soon. Too perfect. Too imperfect. Oh God, what should she believe?

      ‘Bella!’ he yelled, catching her arm, pulling her to him.

      ‘You didn’t want me here,’ she remembered as she slammed into his hard chest. ‘You never wanted me to come to Venice in the first place, and yet now you tell me you want to marry me?’ She punched him on the arm, on the shoulder, would have punched him on his chin if his wrist hadn’t snagged hers and dragged it down where her fist could do no damage. ‘So what are you trying to prove by asking me to marry you?’

      ‘What are you trying to prove? I’ve told you I want to marry you. Why do you fight that? After the night we shared, why can’t you believe that?’

      She shook her head. ‘That was one night! We need more time. It’s too soon.’

      ‘I thought it was too soon. How could I think of breaking a promise I had made for life after such a short time with you? Don’t you think I have tortured myself all day for leaving you like I did? For leaving you thinking I didn’t care?

      ‘But let me make it plain—this is not about one night. Because I wanted you the moment I first set eyes on you. I wanted you then, Bella. I want you now. And I am willing to break every vow I have