Soft breeze, soft calypso, sheer linen curtains tied at the supporting beams of the open air beach house. The sun’s last rays turned the air honey gold. Waves shushed against the sand and the air was redolent with soft floral and salt sea.
His hand warm at the small of her back as he guided her about the floor. In her ear he hummed, his breath tickling the soft hair at her temple. Scooping a glass of champagne from the table set against the bare frame, he pressed it into her hand and turned to get one for himself.
The amber light lit his eyes in an ethereal glow. Blue green as the sea behind, his gaze concentrated on her to the exclusion of everything else in this Italian dream.
“Ho sbagliato tante volte ormai che lo so giàche oggi quasi certamente—I was so wrong— until today. Can you forgive me my love?”
She set the crystal flute down and turned from his impossibly sincere gaze until his hand at her shoulder turned her back. Two gentle fingers at her chin tilted her head. She raised her eyes slowly, afraid of the magnetic candor awash on his face.
” Sarai sempre la mia anima. Only you.”
She knew he meant it. She knew he was her soul. And for the first time in her life she went with her heart instead of her head.
“Sempre. And me too.” She leaned into him and there they stood in the soft twilight until the tears came and chilled in the breeze cool against her cheeks. He held her a long time. As long as she needed.
One of his arms dropped from about her, his hand grasping hers. He led her down the steps and onto the still-warm sand. They walked to the edge of the tide line where the beach turned to liquid glass.
He reached to retrieve a piece of driftwood and carved a shape in the sand. Casting the wood into the waves he turned to her, chin dipping, eyes alight with love.
They kissed as the stars lit one by one in the deepening indigo and the moon shone silver on a velvet sea.