Epilogue

Angelo

Five months later, November 15th

The sun beats down on my head where I stand on the beach of Great Brak River, scanning the water. I pace up and down the sand, willing the boat to come into view. The helicopter I commissioned is nowhere in sight. I could've gone with the pilot and the men I armed with automatic rifles and harpoons, but I wanted to be here for Sabella when she gets back.

My phone rings in my pocket. I take it out and check the screen. It's Mrs. Powell.

Answering the call, I say, "Letitia."

"Do you have any news?"

I grit my teeth as I glance at the horizon of the ocean. "The boat isn't back yet."

"Please let me know the minute they return. I'm so excited for Sabella. I'm biting my nails on this end."

She's not the only one. "I'll do that."

"By the way, tell Sabella her shark notes are extremely helpful. I'm going to use everything in my next presentation. In fact, I wanted to know if she'd like to present it at the fundraiser in Amsterdam."

"I'll ask her."

"I won't keep you any longer. Oh, and thank you again for that amazing trip around Corsica on your beautiful yacht. Your wife is the most charming creature on Earth. You should come and visit us in London. Thomas and I would really like that."

"Thank you for the invitation. I'll let you know when we can make it."

We say our goodbyes, but my attention remains fixed on the water where a blurry black point appears like a mirage in the far distance. I strain my eyes to make out the object, cursing myself for the oversight of not bringing binoculars. It may be an oil trawler or a freight ship. Enough of them cross these waters to dock in Mossel Bay.

A moment later, the sound of a helicopter becomes audible. I lift my face to the sky. The six-seater is a dot against the clouds, but the noise of the blades carries on the breeze. I walk into the shallow water, shading my eyes with my palm to block out the sun. I left my shoes and socks at the entrance of the cave and rolled up my pants as well as my shirt sleeves. In this heat, I should've worn damn swimming trunks, but I optimized on the visit to have an early meeting with Ryan and clients in George.

The noise of the helicopter steadily grows until it's louder than the crash of the breakers. It hovers not far from the beach, sending ripples over the water. The pilot gives me a thumbs-up sign before tilting the helicopter left and heading toward the landing pad in Mossel Bay.

The affirmation only appeases me marginally. I don't relax until the outline of the big boat is discernible and a different noise—this time, the engine of the inflatable Zodiac—disturbs the quiet. The smaller boat soon comes into view, a double line of white foam cutting behind it as the skipper steers it to the shore.

It reminds me of a different time when Roch was driving the boat and Sabella was clinging to the ropes on the sides, half-drowned and full of bitter hatred. I remember the cave and what we did on that day, but most of all, I think about the events that led to that afternoon. It seems like such a long time ago. And here we are, coming full circle.

I recognize Sabella first. Her long hair whips behind her in the wind. She sits in the front of the boat, her wetsuit peeled down to her waist. A red bikini top stretches over her curves. I can't see her eyes behind the dark lenses of her sunglasses, but her grin tells me the mission was successful.

When they reach the break, I keep an eye on the big waves while monitoring the skipper's maneuvers, but he knows what he's doing. He rides the surf like an expert and steers the boat smoothly onto the sand.

I'm there in a few long strides, offering Sabella a hand. She grips my fingers and hops over the side, landing on her feet. To prevent her from losing her balance, I fasten my hands around her waist. She turns and gives a little wave to the skipper who salutes her before jumping out and pushing the boat back into the sea. I give him a hand, holding onto the rope until the boat is afloat. He climbs back in, starts the engine, and drives the boat head-on into the waves until he's on the open sea again.

I turn toward my wife. She pulled off the wetsuit and dumped it in the bag I brought from the house. She stands there clad in that red bikini against the backdrop of the dunes and the white sand, soaked with salty water and wearing an expression of exhilaration on her face.

She pushes her sunglasses on top of her head. "It was kind of them to drop me off here and save you the trip to Mossel Bay."

"I would've driven to the North Pole for you."

She tilts her head. "No."

It takes everything I've got and then some not to pounce on her. "No?"

"You would've just flown there in that helicopter."

"Different logistics. Same thing."

"Admit it." She props her hands on her hips. "The helicopter was an overkill."

"Nothing is an overkill where your safety is concerned."

"Overprotective much?" she asks with an arch of a perfectly shaped eyebrow. "The island is already surrounded by an army and cut off from the mainland."

"Which is the only reason I'm allowing you to be on this beach alone."

"I'm not alone." Her tone is playful. "You're here."

I motion with my head toward the ocean where the Zodiac is no longer visible. "How did it go?"

Her eyes sparkle.

Walking slowly toward her, I say, "You saw it."

"Not it." Her lips stretch into a grin, exposing her straight, white teeth. "Them."

The thought alone fucks with my head. The mental image of my small, delicate wife swimming around a five-meter great white shark is enough to give me nightmares for the rest of my life. But more than one? That fucking tests the limits of my tolerance.

I narrow my eyes. "How many?"

"Three." She steps up and goes on tiptoes to wrap her arms around my neck. "Oh, Angelo. It was amazing. The crew was so nice to me. They even let me film a part of it. The camera man got great footage of us nose to nose with one of the sharks."

That does it. I'm going to forbid her to ever do shark diving again.

"Can you believe it?" She presses our chests together, rubbing up against me and soaking my shirt. "I'm going to be on Shark Week."

When she smacks her lips on mine, the rebuke dies on the tip of my tongue. She tastes like salt and freedom. She smells like coconut suntan lotion and woman. A beautiful, strong, perfect woman. My woman.

Parting her lips with my tongue, I steal inside her mouth. She tips her face up and kisses me back. Her sunglasses slip down the back of her head and fall on the sand, but we barely notice. Hungry for more, I cup her ass and yank her against me, letting her feel the hardness between my legs. What she does to me.

She rips at my shirt, making buttons fly. I let her go to strip the wet fabric from my body. By the time my arms are free, she's already unbuckling my belt. I'm shoving the pants with my underwear over my hips when she goes down on her knees.

Goddamn. We're out in the open in broad daylight. It's a private beach, but that doesn't stop people from crossing the river. Anyone could see us. I should stop her, but her mouth on my cock makes me lose my fucking mind.

We're wild when go down onto the sand. She pulls my pants free and pushes me down in the shallow water. I'm groping for the string of her top at her back, needing to get those tiny triangles that tease me with the roundness of her curves peeking around the sides off her. Straddling me, she unties the string in her nape and throws the top onto the sand. Her breasts are firm and her pretty apricot-colored nipples contracted into hard little points. I fill my palms with those perfect tits, kneading her flesh between my fingers while she unfastens the strings on the sides of her bikini bottom. When the fabric falls away, I fix my gaze on her pussy, drinking in the irresistible sight.

Fisting my cock, she lifts onto her knees and positions the crest at her opening. Instead of lowering herself and taking me inside her, she rubs the head over her clit, lubricating the nub with a drop of pre-cum.

She moans, looking at me from under her long lashes. "We should probably go to the cave."

"Too late," I say with a growl of impatience, locking my hands on her hips and pushing her down over my length.

She gasps.

Her pussy is like a hot, velvet fist that milks my cock. "Fuck, cara. You're tight."

Her smile is both shy and coquettish. "You're big."

"Charmer," I tease, lifting her hips before lowering her again to set the pace.

Threading my fingers through her wet hair, I pull her down for a kiss, but she flattens her palms on my chest and keeps her distance.

"Sabella," I say, warning her. Because I want her. And I'm too far gone to stop now.

"Thanks," she whispers.

I roll my hips, hitting that spot that always makes her cry out. "For what?"

"For staying with Ryan and Celeste. I know it's not easy for you."

No, but Ryan made the effort first by staying with us when Sabella came home from the hospital. Besides, this isn't about me. I'm doing this for her. For my wife.

I search the depths of her soft, brown eyes, wanting to own every secret she's ever locked into her soul. "There will never be another woman for me, bella. Only you. I can never lose you or let you go." My voice turns darker, dangerous. Every time I think about losing her, the beast inside me rears his head. "You understand that, don't you?"

"Then you better always give me a reason to stay."

She's not going anywhere. Ever. But I don't tell her that because it doesn't matter. I won't give her a reason to want to leave.

Twisting her hair around my fist, I reel her in. "Shut up, woman, and kiss me."

She doesn't hesitate. She gives me her kiss, opening her lips and her heart. Letting me into her body and her soul.

It feels so damn right. I move faster, feeling her deeper and kissing her as if it's my last moment. My very last breath. And when her pussy clenches around me and I come with her, it feels like destiny.

This is where it began, where I saw her for the first time coming to me drenched and windblown with sand stuck to her skin, looking carefree and happy and like mine. This is where the end of us started. It's only fitting that we make our new beginning here.

Sabella

Three years later, January 11th

Normally,I should be in Marseille, attending my final semester at university, but as I'm passing with flying colors anyway, I took the day off. Angelo wants to take me to a new restaurant in Bastia for lunch, and I promised the kids we'd bake a cake when they come home from school.

I'll admit it wasn't always easy being a mommy and working toward finishing my degree, but with good time management and a lot of help from Doris and Angelo as well as my mom who visited us for shorter and longer periods, I'm almost there. The prospect of working in the field still makes me excited. Since National Geographic screened my video on Shark Week, I've been invited as a guest speaker to various marine life events, which Letitia Powell uses to her advantage to raise funds for our conservation program. Letitia offered to put in a good word for me at the big research facilities when the time comes to apply for a job. The logistics of working full-time seem daunting, but like with everything, Angelo and I will make it work.

Doris gives Tess an early lunch while I get ready. I pull on my prettiest winter dress and boots, brush out my hair, and apply a little make-up. When Angelo gets home from his business meeting, I'm almost ready. Grabbing my earrings and my bag on my way out of the dressing room, I meet him downstairs.

"You look beautiful," he says, dragging an appreciative gaze over me.

I peck him on the cheek, inhaling his masculine scent and familiar cologne that still has the power to make my stomach flip. "Likewise."

He grips my face in his large hand, holding me fast before I can get away, and crashes his mouth on mine in a searing kiss that does more than make my stomach lurch. Keeping me in that possessive grasp, he sweeps his tongue over mine and plunders the depth of my mouth. I'm breathless in a second. In another second, I'll need change my underwear.

Doris exits the kitchen with Tess on her hip. She clears her throat with a loud, "Ah-hmm."

Undeterred, Angelo brings the kiss to a slow halt. My lips tingle when he finally lets me go.

A wicked smile curves his lips as he holds my gaze. "That's better."

My cheeks heat, knowing that Doris bore witness, but Angelo's possessiveness knows no manners. On the contrary, he always kisses me as if no one is watching, no matter where we are. No, not as if no one is watching. As if he doesn't care. Because he doesn't. He's only too eager to show the world that I'm taken. And to be honest, I like that he's not shy to show his affection.

At the sight of Angelo, Tess's little face lights up.

He holds out his arms to take her from Doris. "Hello, princess." He tickles her side, making her squirm and giggle. "What did you do with yourself this morning?"

I leave my bag on the entrance table and face the mirror to fit my earrings. "You better prepare yourself for another reptile fanatic. She seems to have developed an affinity for the garden snake."

"She lifted the lid off the cage," Doris says with a scowl. "The snake got out and crawled into Johan's bed. One of the guards had to catch it."

Angelo chuckles. "One pet snake in the house is enough." He makes a mock-serious face at Tess. "So don't even think about asking for one." To Doris he says, "I'll talk to Johan about locking the lid. He must've forgotten to secure the clips after feeding the snake."

Doris shudders. "If the snake can escape so easily, I'm not vacuuming that room."

Angelo laughs. "At least the kids are making their own beds."

She turns her nose in the air. "If you call pulling the covers straight making a bed, then I suppose they do."

I straighten, giving myself a last once-over in the mirror. "I swear I only turned my back on her for a second to get the laundry from the bathroom."

"That's my girl," Angelo says, tapping her nose. "You're going to be a brave little thing just like your mother."

"Well," Doris says with a sigh, spinning on her heel and stomping back to the kitchen. "The dinner isn't going to cook itself."

When she's out of earshot, Angelo says, "I think she needs a pay rise."

"If that snake gets anywhere near her, not even a pay rise will make her stay."

He lowers his head and buries his nose in my hair. Inhaling deeply, he says, "I like this smell on you."

I laugh. "It's my shampoo."

"I know." Holding Tess in one arm, he offers me the other. "Ready?"

He escorts us to his car. Shortly after Tess arrived, he bought an armored SUV with bulletproof windows. Angelo is a stickler for security, especially when he's driving the kids and me.

After securing Tess in her car seat, he helps me into the passenger side and fits my safety belt. A car with armed men leaves before us while another one follows. Sandwiched in the middle, we cross over the mountain pass and arrive at the southern border of Bastia just before noon.

Close to the peninsula, he takes a turn to the right and parks in front of the marine research center.

I squint at the handsome, modern building through the windscreen. "What are we doing here?"

"Come," he says, getting out but leaving the heater running so that Tess won't be cold.

"We're visiting?" I ask with surprise when he opens my door.

I've been here before on university tours. It's an advanced facility that also houses an aquarium. They recently put out a request for funds to expand and upgrade the aquarium. They're on Letitia and my list of fundraiser beneficiaries, and my husband donates handsomely to their cause on a monthly basis.

"Look," Angelo says, intertwining our fingers and lifting our hands to point at the sign face on the front of the building.

As I lift my gaze, my mouth drops open. The name of the facility is spelled across the front in brand-new aluminum letters with blue backlights.

Sabella Edwards-Russo Marine Research Center and Aquarium.

"What?" I ask in a shocked whisper. "You named the place after me?"

Wrapping a hand around my nape, he turns me to face him. His dark gaze pierces mine as he leans closer and brushes his lips over mine. "Happy birthday, cara. It's yours."

"Mine?" The word comes out breathless. "What do you mean it's mine?"

His sexy lips curve into a smile. "I bought it for you."

"You did what?"

"They needed the investment, and—as you'll soon be qualified—you need a job."

"So you bought the whole workplace?" I exclaim. "To give me a job?"

"To do with it whatever you please. Manage it. Develop it. Or just leave it up to the team currently running it. They seem to be doing an adequate job."

Tears well up in my eyes. "Angelo."

He presses a kiss on the corner of my mouth. "I already gave you two rings and two cats. As you donated the car I gave you for your birthday to charity, I thought I'd better give you something you'd like."

"Like?" I cry out. "Like doesn't come close to how I feel. I don't know what to say."

"Thank you?" he says with a teasing smile.

"Angelo Russo." As always, when I look up at his face, he takes my breath away. "What am I going to do with you?"

"I have some ideas, but not in front of Tess. We'll have to wait until we get home."

I swat his arm. "You're impossible."

He takes my elbow and helps me back into the car. "So you keep on telling me."

"Thank you," I say when he gets in beside me.

His eyes are warm and his smile soft. "You're welcome, cara. I already set up meetings with the management team to talk about changes. You don't have to worry. I'll make sure everything runs smoothly until you're ready to play a role or to take your place."

"We could offer shark conservation fundraisers here," I say, my excitement building as I think about the future possibilities. "We could run educational as well as exchange programs."

He cups my knee. "I have no doubt you'll make a success of whatever you set your mind to."

We fall silent as I start making checklists in my head. I don't want to walk in and change everything that's already working well. That will create too much uncertainty and animosity. I'm young, and I lack professional experience. I'll leave it to the team who's already running the center. All I'd like to do is add value where possible.

I've been so caught up in my excitement that I haven't noticed we crossed Bastia and are leaving the city behind.

"Where are we going?" I ask.

Angelo smiles without taking his eyes off the road. "You'll see."

"I thought we were going for lunch."

"We are, just a little later."

I turn in my seat to check how Tess is doing. She's fallen asleep in her car seat, her curls falling around her small face. I can't get enough of staring at her. Often, I sit next to her crib at night and just drink in her features for hours. With her dark hair, black eyes, and proud little nose, she's Angelo's child through and through. The only thing she inherited from me is the shape of my lips. And the beauty spot in the corner. Sometimes, like now, she looks so perfect with her rosy cheeks and her rosebud mouth that it hurts to look at her.

Angelo glances at her in the rearview mirror. "How's she doing?"

"Sleeping," I say with a smile, facing forward again.

He turns into a road that runs up the hill and changes gears. I home in on his large hand that grips the gearstick, on the manly veins running underneath the tanned skin and the light dusting of dark hair that disappears under the sleeve of his shirt where a new tattoo is inked.

When Tess was born, he had her name tattooed on his forearm. Long before she was conceived in Great Brak River, he added my name to the ink on his chest, right between the wolves and the letters that spell resilience.

It's too tempting not to touch him. My head still turns dizzy at the thought that I'm the only woman who has this access to him, who can place my hand on his leg or anywhere else on his body whenever I like. I close my finger around his thigh, feeling the steely hardness of the muscles as he steps on the clutch.

He cups my hand and shoots me a smile before focusing on the road again. On the top of the hill, he pulls over and parks at a viewpoint. Lifting my hand to his lips, he kisses my knuckles before carefully putting my hand in my lap.

The wind ruffles his hair when he gets out of the car. I take in his strong body and attractive features as he comes around to get my door. He's still dressed in a white fitted button-down shirt and the black pants that he wore to his meeting. Despite the winter temperature, he doesn't wear a jacket. He hardly feels the cold. The shirt hints at the pecs and abs beneath. The top two buttons are open, showing the decorative border of the black ink. The tailored pants hug his narrow hips and his sculptured ass. At twenty-seven, he's never looked more handsome or more dangerous.

He opens my door and helps me out, pulling me against him for a gentle hug and a deep kiss before putting space between us. His touch lingers on my hand, our gazes remaining connected as he finally lets me go to open the back door.

"Papa," Tess says, rubbing her eyes and yawning.

We're lucky that she's such a good sleeper. She's able to nap anywhere, and she never wakes up cranky.

"Come here, princess," he says, unclipping her safety belt and lifting her into his arms. He plants a kiss on her cheek. "Did you have a good nap?"

"Look there," she says, pointing toward the distance.

It's her latest two-word phrase. She uses it to pull our attention to her or if she wants the kids to play with her. When she sees a bottle of water in the fridge, she'll say, "Look there," which is her way of saying she's thirsty.

Angelo's eyes soften as he smiles at her. "What is it, princess? What do you see?"

The baby bracelet with the gold disk on which Tess's name and date of birth are engraved catches the sunlight as she keeps her small arm stretched out, pointing toward the sea. "Look there."

A movement in the water catches my attention. I fix my gaze on the spot. A fin whale breaks through the surface, her sleek body shining in the winter sun as she arches gracefully before diving back into the turquoise sea.

"Well done, baby," I say. "It's a fin whale."

At the praise, Tess claps her hands excitedly.

The whale jumps like a dancer through the air before disappearing with a splash.

"Isn't she beautiful?" I ask. "They normally fast in winter. Perhaps she came closer to the shore to give birth."

"Look there, Papa," Tess says, waving at the whale's dark body that cuts in a sleek line through the water.

"I see, princess," Angelo says with a mixture of pride and tenderness, but he's not looking at the whale. He's looking at his daughter.

Taking her small hand, he kisses her tiny palm. She giggles, shaking her arm and rattling the disk on the delicate chain. Angelo bought the bracelet when she was born. He got her the gold necklace with the medal of Saint Teresa when she turned one. Like with Sophie, Johan, étienne, and Guillaume, he likes to spoil them, but he's strict when it matters. He's not just a good daddy. He's a great daddy. No wonder the kids adore him.

The sight of the big, powerful man holding the little girl in her puffy jacket, white dress with the lace trimming, doll-sized shoes, and wool tights melts my heart. I'm so blessed and happy I have to pinch myself to be sure that this is my life and not just a dream.

Balancing Tess on his hip, he wraps an arm around my waist and draws me against him. We stand close together, admiring the view. It's not as cliffy as his property. The rocky terrain runs down to a wide stretch of beach. Trees and bushes grow wild around the sand. The ruins of an old lighthouse stand on the highest point of the outcrop.

"This is beautiful," I say, snuggling closer to him as a cold wind picks up from the sea.

"I thought you'd like it. It has direct beach access. We'll just have to put up a fence and install a childproof gate as long as Tess hasn't learned to swim."

I look at him quickly.

Brushing a thumb over my jaw, he asks, "What do you think?"

"You want to buy it?" I ask with a start.

"There's only a primary school in the village. With Johan entering college in September and the other kids following soon, it makes more sense to move closer. Plus, if you decide to get involved in the research center, you'll work in Bastia too."

"What about the old house?"

"I found an oenologist who's interested in turning the vinegar we used to produce into a boutique wine production. We can organize wine tours at the cellar and rent out the house for events. We can still go there for weekends, but I reckon we deserve a place that's just ours." Tracing the seam of my lips, he adds, "A place that's yours to design and decorate the way you like."

The gift he offers me is enormous. He grew up in the old house. It holds a special place in his heart, but he's right to want to give us a clean slate and a home that's our own. The villa in Cape Town came furnished. Fabien decorated the new house. He inherited the old house and its furniture. I've never decorated a place of my own.

"What do you say?" he asks, caressing my cheek. "It'll need at least nine bedrooms—one for us, Doris, each kid, and at least two for visitors because your mother will never let me book her into a hotel now that there's a grandchild."

I place a hand over my belly, over the secret I've been carrying for three months. I didn't want to say anything until after the first trimester. Like when we expected Tess, the doctor told me there's no reason why I shouldn't have a healthy pregnancy, but the fear that something may go wrong is ingrained in me. I wanted to be sure.

"Sabella?" he asks, searching my eyes. "What's the matter?" He goes from tender to protective in a second flat. "Are you feeling sick?"

"A little," I admit.

He lets me go to fish his phone from his pocket. "I'm calling the doctor. I'll take you on the way home. It could've been the shrimp pie you had for breakfast."

"It's not the shrimps," I say, placing a hand on his arm.

The muscles of his forearm are hard. Tense. "Then what is it, cara?"

I stare up at his beautiful face, biting my lip before saying, "Ten bedrooms."

He blinks. "What?"

"We'll need ten bedrooms." I add in soft voice, "A blue one, this time."

His look is bewildered. "What?" Dropping his gaze to my stomach, he says, "Are you…?"

"Yes." I cup his cheek. "We're expecting another baby."

"Sabella." His voice is hoarse, his gaze filled with reverence as he looks at my stomach again. "How many weeks?"

"Thirteen."

Wrapping his free arm around my waist, he crushes me against him. "Cara. You're pregnant. We're going to have another baby."

I lean my head on his chest. "Yes."

"A baby," he says with wonder, rubbing a palm over my back. "You have no idea how happy and terrified I am."

I pull back to look at him. "Terrified?"

His jaw bunches. "I nearly killed an ob-gyn the last time you gave birth. I don't know if I can watch you go through that again."

"We'll be fine." I brush a curl from my baby girl's cheek. "Just like with Tess."

He inhales deeply and drags me against him. Planting a kiss on the top of my head, he says, "Fuck, bella. I'm the luckiest man alive."

"Language." I frown. "Not in front of Tess."

"You should've told me." Alarmed, he studies my face. "I wouldn't have brought you out here in the cold."

"It's a mild day, and I'm not made of glass."

"To me, you are," he says, kissing my lips. "To me, you're more precious than life." Going into full-on over-protective mode, he lets me go to cup my stomach. "Can I get you anything? A ginger infusion? A foot rub?"

"Look there," Tess says, pointing at my stomach.

Angelo and I burst out laughing.

"My beautiful baby girl." I brush down her unruly curls. "You're going to have a brother."

Angelo pulls me in, hugging Tess and me against him.

If his embrace is a little too tight, I don't mind.

I feel safe in his arms.

I belong in his arms.

In his arms, I became the woman I was destined to be.

THE END