“She thinks our daughters are precious, and as you might have guessed, we hope to have our own someday.”

Payton didn’t know why he had to do this now, tonight, after such a wonderful day. “I see.”

“Marilena will be a wonderful mother.”

“I’m sure she will,” Payton answered faintly.

“I know we’ll have at least one or two babies, but she assures me that the twins will never play second fiddle. They’ll always be important.”

If he’d hoped to reassure her, he was failing, Payton thought, glancing at her hands. “Where do you plan to live?”

“Here, of course.”

His house. Their house. Their former house. Pain suffused her chest, a rush of memory. “Great.” She looked up at him, eyes burning and praying he couldn’t see the sheen of tears. “Anything else?”

“No.”

The girls were still up and Payton read them a story before Marco appeared in the nursery to help tuck them in. Payton stepped back to give Marco room and she watched from the doorway as he said prayers with them and then blessed each and kissed Gia, and then Liv good-night.

Her heart ached as she saw Liv slip her arms around Marco’s neck and hold him close for an extra moment. “I love you, Papa,” Liv whispered shyly.

“I love you, too,” he answered, kissing her. He stood and looked down at his daughters and lightly touched each child’s head. “Buonanotte, bambini.”

It was time to tell him. It was time to tell him the truth. This wasn’t going to be easy, but then she didn’t think it would ever be.

Payton followed Marco from the girls bedroom. “Would you care for a drink?” he asked, as they reached the head of the stairs.

“Thank you.”

They entered his private sitting room, the creamy plaster walls lined in places with pale floor to ceiling bookshelves, although only half the shelves held books. The rest of the shelves were devoted to art—bronzes, miniatures, relics of past civilizations.

“Have you thought any more about coming to work for me? I’m serious, you know,” Marco said, calmly pouring her a generous glass of sweet after dinner wine.

“I’ll find you a place to live near the fashion district. In fact, I know of a great house coming on the market on Via della Spiga,” he said, naming a street just a few blocks from his headquarters. “It has a beautiful courtyard garden, the rooms are large and bright. The house gets excellent light.”

His words rushed over her in a river of sound and feeling. “I can’t,” she said at last. “At least not now.”

“Why not?”

“It’s complicated, but trust me when I say I can’t move here for a while. Six months…a year…at least.”

“You’re going to take the girls away for another year?”

“No. I won’t take them away. I—” She broke off, swallowed, and pressed on, “I thought I’d leave them here.”

“Leave them?”

Payton half-closed her eyes, unwilling to go where her emotions were leading her. The girls, she reminded herself, think of the girls. If nothing else, think of their innocence. They don’t know that bad things can happen to their mommy and daddy yet.

That bad things will happen.

Her eyes felt gritty. They burned and Payton turned as if to go but realized she had nowhere to go. There was no one she could turn to anymore.

There was just Marco.

The stark reality made her head swim.