Page 96 of Bellini Born

When his gaze lifted to meet mine, there was pure anguish written in the depths of those dark brown eyes. “Nothing is random when your last name is Bellini.”

That statement alone should’ve been enough to have me running for the hills, but instead, I found myself doubling down. Extending a hand, I beckoned him to me. “Come here.”

He shook his head. “Don’t you get it? Being close to me puts your life in danger.”

“I’ll take my chances.”

Staring at me like I’d lost my mind, he uttered a single word. “Why?”

The answer was simple. “Because I love you.”

Matteo’s eyes slammed shut, his features twisting into an expression of pain. “Summer,” he rasped my name. “I almost lost you tonight.”

“But you didn’t. I’m right here.” I curled my fingers as I reached for him. “Please.”

His large frame shook with the force of his heavy sigh, but he finally moved closer. When his palm slid against mine, all my muscles relaxed, and I melted into the thin mattress beneath me.

“That’s better,” I breathed out.

Dropping onto the chair at my bedside, Matteo brought my knuckles to his lips, murmuring against them, “I can’t do this again.”

The reminder that this man had lost his wife less than a year ago hit me square in the chest, and suddenly, I could understand why he was so tortured. My hospitalization must have stirred up past trauma.

“Matteo—”

“Marry me.”

I blinked at him for a full minute before near-hysterical laughter burst past my lips. “They must’ve given me the really good drugs because I thought I heard you ask me to marry you.”

Pinning me with that dark stare, he said, “I’ll let you believe it was a question, when in fact, it’s a demand. Ineedyou to bemy wife. They wouldn’t let me back here to see you because we weren’t married.”

Okay, so I hadn’t imagined the proposal, but the motivation behind it wasn’t the least bit romantic.

I arched an eyebrow. “Expecting hospital visits to be a common occurrence?”

A full-body shudder rolled through him. “God no. If I never set foot inside this building again, it’ll be too soon.”

“I’m gonna need a better reason than you not wanting to be denied access during a medical emergency. You were scared tonight, I get that, but—”

“Ti amo.”

Those two words stole the very breath from my lungs.

“Ti amo, Summer. Isn’t that reason enough?”

It was impossible to argue with that.

His free hand came up to cup my face, his thumb stroking over my cheek. “You’ve become a beacon of light as I try to navigate my path in the dark. I knew you were special the first time I laid eyes on you, but I had no idea how quickly you would embed yourself into the very fabric of my soul. Tonight, I was faced with the reality of having to live without you, and blinding agony that tore through me at the thought. Never felt anything that painful”—he shook his head on a wry laugh—“and I’ve been shot before.”

Wait. Did he just say he’s been shot?

Note to self: circle back to that later.

Throat bobbing on a thick swallow, Matteo repeated his earlier demand. “Marry me. Be mine forever.”

This whole thing was sheer insanity. We’d known each other for all of two months, had only slept together on two separate occasions, our first admissions of love had come within the past twenty-four hours, and even though he protested, this was most likely a knee-jerk reaction after I’d almost died in a house fire.

But as far as I was concerned, there was only one answer.