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“Caro has a place near New York,” I said, “but I could be stationed anywhere.”

“You’re in the army?”

“No, ma’am, US Marines.”

Signora Carello nodded slowly, a frown of concern crinkling her eyes.

“He has to do two more years,” Caro said quietly. “And he’s being sent out to Afghanistan. On Thursday.”

“Ah.” The signora shook her head sadly.

“Hey, it’ll be fine,” I said, refusing to let the shadow hanging over us spoil today. “Besides, I might see you out there.”

Signora Carello looked confused.

“Caro is a reporter—a foreign correspondent,” I explained. “But I wish she…”

I stopped mid-sentence, aware of the irritated tightening of Caro’s face.

“Well,” said the signora, carefully, “you young people don’t choose the easy path, but it is your own path. I wish you both well. Please come back and have your honeymoon here.”

“Honeymoon! Hell, I’d forgotten about that! Yeah, we should definitely have a honeymoon, Caro. With room service—so we don’t have to get out of bed.”

Caro blushed, but Signora Carello just laughed and stood to clear the plates.

“Don’t say things like that in front of her,” hissed Caro, as the old woman walked away. “She’ll be embarrassed!”

I couldn’t help laughing. “You’re the only one who’s embarrassed, Caro, which is pretty fucking funny. Signora Carello used to be ‘fast’, remember? Anyway, I didn’t say anything that wasn’t true.”

And if the signora couldn’t guess what we’d been doing in our room all of yesterday afternoon, the used condoms in the trash can would probably clue her in. It must be shit running your own hotel.

When we went up to our room, it had already been tidied. Caro didn’t know that we were checking out today.

I could tell she was wondering what was going on, because she looked puzzled when Signora Carello pulled me into a tight hug before we left and whispered a few last minute suggestions for our special date later. She was a class lady. She reminded me of Caro.

The Amalfi coastline was really a huge James Bond set. The roads were narrow, almost single track in some places, unforgiving, with hairpin turns arcing up the mountain and the Med many hundreds of feet below. The Honda was eating it up, its perfect balance allowing me to take the bends at high speed, our knees almost touching the asphalt.

Caro was gripping onto my waist tightly, her sweet little pussy crushed up against my ass. What a fuckin’ turn on.

As we passed the small town of Pontone, I slowed then pulled off the road next to a lemon grove and cut the engine. Just where Signora Carello had suggested.

“It’s a great view, baby. You want to get your camera out?”

She slid off the bike, looking a little shaky, and I grinned at her as she snapped some of the scenery. I had a feeling she might have gotten me in some of the shots, too. Sneaky.

While I pulled out the picnic that the signora had packed for us, Caro climbed further up to get some more photographs. When she walked back, she waved her arm at the food, looking pleased but puzzled.

“Don’t you want to ride on a bit further?”

“Nope, we’re staying here. Picnic.”

I held out a miniature bottle of champagne in one hand and two crystal flutes in the other. “Borrowed from Signora Carello,” I said, answering her unspoken question.

“I think the signora has a soft spot for you, Sebastian.”

“Must be my animal magnetism, baby.”

She rolled her eyes at me.

“Hey, don’t knock it—it works on you.”

“That is true, Hunter.”

I led us to a patch of dry, springy grass and stretched out. But when I opened the champagne, the cork flew off like a rocket, making us both hit the deck.

“Huh, guess it got shook up on the road.”

Caro raised an eyebrow. Yeah, I wasn’t the smoothest guy ever. I bet James Bond never got his champagne all shook up—just his women. Yeah, well I got that bit nailed, I thought to myself.

“Here’s to us, Caro,” I said, serious for once. “Today, tomorrow, forever. Promise?”

She met my gaze, then clinked her glass against mine.

“Yes, tesoro. Forever, I promise.”

Once we drained our glasses, we stretched out on the grass in each other’s arms. There was no pressure, no expectation of more, just a deep contentment from being exactly where I wanted to be with the woman who’d always owned my heart.

“I love my surprise, Sebastian,” she said, her hand resting on my chest.

I laughed quietly. “This is only part of it, Caro. There’s more.”

“More?”

“Much more.”

“Such as?”

“You’ll see.”

After another hour, we climbed to our feet reluctantly and I raced the Honda back down the coast road, pulling up into the forecourt of Il Saraceno. As Signora Carello had promised, it was expensive and classy—and just what I wanted for Caro.

But I was disappointed by the wary expression on her face.

“Here?” she asked uncertainly.

I stared across at the white stone arches that were supposed to resemble a Moorish palace. She didn’t like it? It looked pretty darn good to me.

“Here,” I said, trying to encourage her by smiling.

She still looked uncertain, and I couldn’t figure out what was bothering her. But when she patted her hair and tried to comb it with her fingers, I worked it out. I grabbed her hand and kissed her hard. My woman never had understood that she was the most beautiful thing in my world wherever we went.

But it pissed me off that other guys noticed she was hot. When they looked at her, it made me want to play pool with their balls.

I towed Caro inside and handed over the Honda’s keys to the guy at the reception desk, promising myself that I’d buy another touring bike one day. Caro raised her eyebrows when I took the room key and started walking toward the elevator.

“We’re staying here? But we left all our things at Signora Carello’s?”

“Nope, we haven’t. I asked the signora to pack us up while we were out this morning. She was cool about it. Besides this is kind of her idea. Well, she helped me pick out somewhere special.”

Caro frowned and glanced around her.

“But a place like this must cost a small fortune, Sebastian!”

“I can afford it, baby. This is my first night as an engaged man—and I want to enjoy it. Hey, don’t worry. The only thing I’ve spent my pay on in the last ten years is booze and bikes,” and broads, but I wasn’t going to remind her about that. “I’m good for it.”

Signora Carello had promised that we’d like the hotel, and if Caro’s stunned expression when she saw our room was anything to go by, she liked it a lot. Best of all, the bed was nearly seven feet wide—I planned on having Caro on every inch of that mattress. We also had our own private balcony and a fucking enormous bathroom with a huge tub. Yep, I was feeling very creative.

I left her to look around while I tossed our luggage onto the bed and began to unpack. I was glad to see that the wardrobe held the garment bags that I’d arranged to have delivered.

I pointed at the one on the left.

“This is for you, baby.”

Puzzled, but with a smile hovering at the corners of her mouth, Caro unzipped the bag, then gaped at the floor-length dress.

“Sebastian, it’s beautiful! What have you done?”

I grinned at her excited smile. “I got one, too. A tux—like you wanted. Except mine is just rented. You get to keep the dress.”

She placed it on the bed carefully, then wrapped her arms around my waist, smiling up at me.

“How did you get to be so perfect, Sebastian, because I could have sworn you were a giant pain in the ass.”

I laughed loudly. “Next time I piss you off, I’m going to remind you that you said that, baby. Which will probably be in about five minutes.”

“Probably,” she agreed, with a smile.

“Come on, let’s shower, and then I want to see you in that dress.”

“Why, Warrant Officer Hunter! You want to put me into clothes?” she teased.