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give you a ride back when you’re ready to leave. Save walking on that foot.”

      “That would put you out. Which was not my intention. I truly wanted to thank you. You’re a hero.”

      “No, I’m not.” Why did people keep saying that? If they knew the truth—“I’ll give you a ride,” he said.

      His motorcycle sat beneath the carport at the rear. Beyond that was a small building, door firmly closed.

      Mariella followed, glancing around the kitchen again as she stepped outside.

      “I could come back tomorrow and clean up the kitchen for you. As a token of appreciation.”

      Cristiano shook his head. “I don’t need it.”

      He started the bike and helped her climb on. Instructing her to hold on tight, he didn’t expect the jolt of awareness when she wrapped her arms around him. Her body was pressed against his back, her hands linked over his stomach. He closed his eyes, relishing the feel of her. Her hands were small, gripping over his belly. Her breasts pressed against his back and for a moment he wanted to turn around and pull her into a kiss.

      “So how long will Signora Bertatali watch Dante?” he asked.

      “No time limit.”

      “Want to take the long way home?”

      “Sure.”

      “Will you be warm enough?”

      “Oh, yes.”

      He started out slowly and then picked up speed when they reached the road. Turning away from the lake, he took the road he loved to ride when trying to outrun the demons and nightmares. It wound through the forest, dappled in shade in places, in full sunshine in others.

      From time to time they could catch a glimpse of the lake sparkling in the distance. It was not as breezy today as other days and in places the lake looked like a mirror, reflecting sky and forest.

      Mariella loved the ride. She felt free with the scenery whipping by. Seeing the lake when they turned from time to time was fabulous. Thankful for her rescue, she felt especially attentive to everything today. It was as if she were seeing things in a different light.

      All due to Cristiano. And not only because he had saved them from the fire. But to take time yesterday to make sure she and Dante had all they needed was special.

      But what she cherished the most was his request for her to stay.

      He slowed and pulled off the road in a turn out that went to the edge of the open space in front of them.

      “Oh wow,” she said, gazing at the sight. The lake looked like a jewel nestled in a green setting. Beyond another hill and then another rose, until she felt she were on the rim of the world, looking out.

      He stopped the motor. The silence was complete. Then the soft sighing of the breeze through the trees could be heard.

      “This is beautiful,” she said softly, so as not to disturb the moment.

      “We can walk to the edge if you like,” he said.

      She hopped off the motorcycle and waited for him. Walking to the edge, she saw several rough-cut log benches.

      “Others must come here for the view,” she said, sitting on one sun-warmed log.

      He sat beside her, gazing at the vista in front of them.

      For several moments neither spoke, then Cristiano said softly, “I come here when I need to get away.”

      “A special place,” she said, smiling, feeling as if she’d been given a gift. “I wish I had one. It gets overwhelming sometimes with Dante and working and trying to balance everything. I would love a place like this to just sit and be.”

      He nodded. “Maybe that’s what is appealing, I can just be myself here.”

      She looked at him, tilting her head slightly. “Can’t you be yourself everywhere?”

      He met her gaze and slowly shook his head. “People expect certain things.”

      “And we always try to meet those expectations.” She sighed. “Probably why I feel so inadequate with Dante. I expect to be wise like my mother and I’m not.”

      “She probably wasn’t that wise when you were six months old,” he said gently.

      Mariella thought about that for a while. Was it true? Had her mother been learning as she went? “You might be right, but she always seemed to know what to say, how to explain things.”

      “You’re a good mother to Dante. Don’t doubt yourself.”

      Unexpectedly, Cristiano reached out and took her hand, resting their linked fingers on his thigh. “It’s beautiful here in winter when it looks as if powder sugar has been sprinkled on the trees. Now the trees are changing color, but spring will bring the new green of beginning leaves.”

      “Thanks for bringing me here,” she said, returning her gaze to the magnificent view. The carefree feeling continued as if she had let all her worries vanish on the ride and the reward was this unexpected beauty.

      They talked softly until the sun started slipping behind some of the trees and the temperature began to drop.

      “Time to go,” he said.

      Mariella nodded, reluctant to end the enchantment of the afternoon. She would never forget this.

      He continued the loop arriving in the village near the resort. He continued to the center of town to drop her by the small grocery store where she said she needed to pick up some things for Dante.

      “Thanks for the ride home,” she said, when she had dismounted. Giving into impulse, she kissed his cheek. “See you,” she said and turned swiftly to enter the store.

      Cristiano watched as she walked away, so alive and happy. He didn’t want to think of the outcome had he not been riding that night.

      But he felt like an impostor. He was no hero. He’d never tell her, or anyone, how fear engulfed him. How the nightmares of that incident in May haunted him unexpectedly day and night. Why couldn’t he get the images out of his mind? Granted he could go several days without them. Just when he’d think he had it licked, they’d spring up and threaten to render him powerless.

      Though he had been able to cope at the fire. Maybe, maybe, he was getting over it.

      Mariella entered the grocery store and glanced back through the glass door. Cristiano sat on his motorcycle, staring at the door. Could he see her? She felt her heart beating heavily. She had never ridden a motorcycle before. She’d not known how intimate it felt, pressed against his hard body, feeling his muscles move against her as he drove the powerful bike. She still felt tingly and so aware of him. She hated to move, but people would begin to wonder if she stayed at the door staring like a moonstruck teenager at her latest heartthrob.

      She almost giggled as she forced herself to move.

      Would she ever get the chance to ride behind him again? Visit his special spot? Life seemed especially sweet today. It could almost as easily have been over for her. Instead, she had ridden with a sexy guy who intrigued her, fascinated her, set her hormones rocking.

      She was curious about the injuries he was recovering from. Maybe he’d re-injured himself rescuing her, though he looked to be in perfect health to her. His broad shoulders and muscles beneath the shirt he’d worn attested to robust health. He looked as if he could jump mountains. And obviously was strong enough to carry her and the baby from a burning building.

      With the loss of all her things—especially her computer—the sooner she returned home, the sooner she could pick up the pieces of her life. Maybe it was a sign she was not to look for Dante’s father.

      Fortunately her purchases fit into two bags and Mariella carried them back to the cottage. She also brought a bouquet

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