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wine, this land, this is the life—the heart—of my family and who I am.” He walks toward me and takes my hand in his then places it on his chest. “This is what my heart beats for, Carina. Taking care of this place and my business. Do you understand?”
    I’m not sure I do. I love my parents, but I’ve never felt invested in something the way Stefan is invested in this, with such passion and purpose. All I can do is admire him for it.
    “I want to, Stefan. I want to understand.” I reach up and brush a lock of hair from his forehead, and then I cradle his jaw in my palm. I gaze into his eyes and find a man that I can tell all my secrets to. Deep in my soul, I know they will be safe—that I will be safe with him—and I can’t imagine being apart from him.
    The next day, and the next, and the day after that begin the same way: a romantic breakfast on the veranda. The fear that each day will be our final one together creeps through me, but then plans are made, and the day escapes us as he shows me more of the estate or takes me on a drive through the countryside to visit some touristy place he feels is worthwhile.
    The first week I spend with Stefan is peppered with an occasional kiss . . . or several. I grow more comfortable with his hands on my body, and I begin to crave his caresses. He’s adoring and kind, always touching me—my hand, the back of my neck, my waist—but he never takes it as far as I’d like.
    The connection I feel with him intensifies each passing minute, and the enchanting romance makes me feel drunk all the time.
    He asks much about my life, but in turn, I only learn about pieces of him. He keeps the conversations fixed on me. Before I know it, sundown is approaching, and again, he asks me to stay. I always say yes.
    My nights are spent in my bed, dreaming of him, and strange, yet familiar, voices make their way into my sleep.

Chapter Four

    Over breakfast, I ask Stefan what we’ll be doing today, and he’s vague, but he gets a boyish look and dances around the subject. I know I’m in for some kind of surprise.
    In the short time I’ve known him, I’ve grown to adore certain little details about Stefan. His clothing is always impeccable, but no matter what he wears, I always feel an impulse to rip it from his body. His sexy voice is smooth, almost hypnotic. He doesn’t laugh often but is generous with his smile. He knows just what to say, and when we talk, he seems to know a little bit about everything. He’s been all over the world, and I frequently feel inadequate while listening to him talk about his life. On the days he doesn’t shave, the little silver hairs in his scruff remind me of how far apart we are in age—his forty-three to my twenty-two. He’s mysterious but he doesn’t intimidate me, and I can tell how much he enjoys that. I find that my gaze wanders over his body when he’s not looking. He persists in his pledge to remain a gentleman, but I’m resolved to make as difficult as possible for him.
    Starting today.
    Wherever we go, whatever we do, I will get closer.
    It’s a gorgeous afternoon. Stefan pilots his car, and we zip over hills and into valleys headed toward our secret destination.
    I squint in the bright sunshine.
    Stefan notices my expression. “You need a pair of sunglasses.”
    “Yeah, I don’t know why I didn’t think to pack any.”
    “Look in the glove box.”
    I open the latch and find a pair not unlike the ones Stefan wears. I slip them on, smile, and then I reach over and take his hand in mine. I rub my thumb along his finger in my best attempt to begin the dance of seduction.
    He turns left onto a dirt road and we begin to ascend a hillside lined with cylindrical, cypress trees.
    When we reach the top, my senses are saturated with the beautiful view, and I don’t notice how close Stefan has gotten. I’m startled when he removes my borrowed sunglasses.  
    He’s holding a black scarf. “I’d like for this to be a surprise, if you