Dru pulled the pendant into the air and stared at it, her eyes filling with tears.
"Hummingbirds..." she whispered. Two birds nestled together on the silver chain, in the bright and bold colors that could only be Murano glass. They sparkled in the golden sunlight, looking very nearly alive. And when she looked at him again, her eyes were wet, but she was smiling.
"You won't forget him," Cayo said, his voice rough. "And neither will I."
She threw her arms around him and kissed him then. For a long time. Soft and sweet. Making both of them sigh.
It had been eight months now since that scene in her cramped Clapham bedsit. Eight months of Dru in his life, testing him and changing him, making him wonder how he'd lived without her for so long. He could no longer imagine any possible scenario that did not include this woman, who had somehow made him the man he'd never believed he could be. Flesh and blood. Alive. Not a monster, after all. Not as long as she loved him.
"When are you going to marry me?" he demanded when they were both breathless and she was boneless against him.
"When you deserve it," she said, pulling away from him. She wiped at her eyes and then she looked at him as if she thought that eventuality was highly unlikely, and he laughed.
"Must I bribe you into it?" he asked. "You won't take a house. Land. Atolls or islands."
He waved a hand and she followed the gesture, looking out over the deep blue of the Aegean Sea toward the sunny, green little island that stretched there off the side of the yacht. Private and uninhabited. And his. She had insisted that he visit all of his properties or sell them, and so he had, leaving the minutiae of his affairs more and more in the capable hands of his fleet of vice presidents. Delegating. This Greek island, one of the Cyclades not far from Mykonos, was the last on the list. He found he liked it. And the process of exploring them all, with her.
"No," she agreed. "I don't want your property. But..."
"Yes?" She amused him. Fascinated him.
"Perhaps a company." Her gray eyes gleamed as she fastened the pendant around her neck. The hummingbirds seemed to dance and shimmer against her skin. "Just a small one."
"Why am I unsurprised that the life of leisure bores you?"
She only smiled. "You have that boutique advertising agency in New York, don't you, that is currently in dire need of leadership?"
He was aware she knew full well that he did.
"What do you know about managing an advertising agency?" But his tone was indulgent and in any case, he had no doubt that this woman could do anything she chose to do, and well.
"I managed you for five years," she said dryly. "I imagine a company filled with artistic Americans could only be a breeze in comparison. A bit of holiday, really."
"I love you," he said, because he did, and because he could think of nothing that pleased him more than the idea of her doing this with him. Building all of this with him. Making it their empire, not his. Making it matter. "You can run whatever you want, mi amor. But I will have to insist that you marry me."
She only watched him, her gray eyes clear and sparkling, and he reached over to take her hands in his, pulling her to him. The sun spilled all over her, bathing her in light, and still she shone brighter.
"There is a little-known clause in all my contracts," he said softly, pressing kisses to her cheek, to the freckles across her nose, to her sweet mouth. "All Vila Group subsidiaries must be run by a Vila. So you see how it is. My hands are tied."
Dru laughed and threaded her arms around his neck.
"You know how I love a sacrifice," she teased him. "I suppose it's a good thing, then, that I love you enough to make such a huge one."
"It is," he said gruffly, but he smiled, and then kissed her again, sealing it.
And it would be, he thought. A very good thing, and they would spend their whole lives making it better. He had no doubts.
He was Cayo Vila. He didn't take no for an answer, and he didn't know how to fail.