The Consequences of That Night

desire, taking off from the level it had been a moment before, climbing higher and higher, tighter and tighter. She began to rock back and forth, trembling with almost unbearable pleasure.
    He rode her harder, faster, panting for breath, as their sweaty bodies clung together in the dark, hot night. A cool breeze whipped in from the Italian lake, banging back the balcony doors. But neither of them noticed as he was deep, pounding inside her, splitting her apart. She gasped, clutching his taut backside, feeling his muscles grow hard as stone beneath her hands. With a shuddering intake of breath, he slammed inside her one last time, and they both let go, flying, falling, collapsing into thin air.
    Cesare landed on top of her, then, as if he feared he would hurt her with his weight, immediately rolled on one side of her. He pulled her against him on the bed, nuzzling her forehead, both of them so close, so close. Both of them the same.
    Emma closed her eyes. She suddenly felt like weeping.
    A moment before, all she’d wanted was this, only this. But now, she’d barely had what she wanted and already wanted more. Not just sex. She was greedy beyond all imagining. She wanted his love.
    In this moment of glory, heartache filled her. She pulled away from him, moving into the shadows of the bed.
    “What is it, cara? ” he asked in a low voice, as his hand gently stroked her bare back. She knew she shouldn’t answer. She should just leave it.
    But the words came out of her throat against her will.
    “Will you be faithful to me?” she whispered. “Can you be?”
    For a moment, he didn’t answer. She couldn’t see his face. And she knew she’d made a horrible mistake. She turned to face him on the bed.
    “Is fidelity so important to you?” he said in a low voice.
    The lump in her throat suddenly felt like a razorblade.
    “No,” she whispered. Really, what use was fidelity without love? What was it but cold pretense, the form of love without the heart of it?
    “Tomorrow we wed.” Sleepily he pulled her into his arms and kissed her forehead. “So many nights I dreamed of you, cara, did you know that? And now you are in my bed. Our wedding night before we are wed...”
    “Yes.” She ran her fingertips along the warmth of his bare chest. She would marry him tomorrow. She’d given her word. She would raise his child and sleep in his bed, and be at his command for the rest of her life. And Cesare, the onetime playboy who notoriously enjoyed such a variety of women, would do his best to accomplish his obligation of fidelity—at least for a month, or possibly a year...
    Holding her in his arms, he closed his eyes. A few moments later, his breathing became even and deep.
    But Emma didn’t have the same peace.
    She leaned against his naked body, so warm and powerful and protective around her own. She looked through the open balcony door, past the moonlight to the distant bright star, the first star of morning. In a few hours, the dark violet sky would change to red, then pink, then a glorious Italian blue as the sun would rise on her wedding day. The first and only wedding day she’d ever know. She’d be married to the man she loved. The father of her baby.
    Cesare would marry her. For Sam’s sake.
    But what happiness could they know, in a marriage where only one partner loved, and was faithful?
    The truth was that, wedding or not, Emma was no better than any of the other women Cesare might take to his bed.
    His real wife was, and always would be, Angélique.
    Loving him destroyed her, Emma. Don’t let it destroy you.
    Emma shuddered this time as she remembered Alain’s words. He knew how wildly his sister had loved Cesare. What he hadn’t known was the fierce love Cesare had for her in return. Angélique hadn’t been destroyed by loving him.
    But Emma would be.
    She looked at Cesare’s handsome sleeping face in the shadowy bedroom. She listened to the sound of his breath. Could she really marry him? Knowing she’d be nothing more than the mother of his child, the keeper of his home, or at best—a warm body in the night?
    Could Emma accept an eternity of knowing she was the other woman—that if given the choice, her husband would have traded her life in an instant for Angélique’s?
    You’re stronger than you know, kiddo. She heard her father’s words. You’ll get through this, and have a life more amazing than you can even imagine. Filled with sunshine and flowers and above all, love. All the things