Carwyn’s face split into a giant grin.  “Nicely done, darling girl.  Very nicely done.”

Tenzin walked over and peeked around Carwyn.  “I like her.”

Beatrice glanced at Tenzin and smiled, but quickly looked back to Giovanni, who had not taken his eyes off her.  His face had shut down, and his expression was impossible for her to read.

From the corner of her eye, she noticed Carwyn tug on Tenzin’s arm, and they both left the library.  Giovanni walked to the table, leaning against it as he stared into the fire that crackled in the grate.

“I have to agree with Carwyn,” he said, “that was very well done.  Very smart.  You’ll have to talk to Caspar.  He can help you clean the money…if you need any help, that is.”  The corner of his mouth lifted in a rueful smile.

Beatrice walked over to him, standing before him and lifting a hand to stroke his cheek.  His smile fell, and he closed his eyes, leaning into her palm.  She felt the ever-present crackling heat that ran along his skin as she held her hand to his face.  Finally, he looked at her, and the stoic soldier met her gaze.

She took a deep breath.  “I’m going to L.A.”

“Yes,” he murmured, “I know.”  He closed his eyes, and rubbed his face into the palm of her hand.

“Gio—”

“You have a wonderful life in front of you, Beatrice De Novo.”

She felt the tears come to her eyes.  Ask me to stay, she thought.  Ask to come with me!  Tell me you love me as much as I love you.  She swallowed the lump in her throat.  “Are you staying in Houston?”

He shrugged and took her hand from his face, threading their fingers together and holding them to his chest.  “For now.  Caspar seems to be very attached to this house,” he smirked, “and this city.”

“And you?”

He dropped her hand, and pulled her toward him.  His fingers traced her cheek, his arms encircled her, and his warm lips met her own.  They kissed slowly in the flickering light that filled the room.  She could feel his energy hum along her skin, and she pressed closer, drawn to the hidden fire that burned between them.

After a few lingering minutes, his lips slowed and he trailed kisses across her cheek.  She closed her eyes, and held him close as he whispered in her ear.

“Ubi amo, ibi patria.”

Epilogue

Los Angeles, California

February 2005

The man walked under the shadow of the arch and into the flickering lights of the courtyard.  He examined the bungalow-style apartments that surrounded him, and smiled at the calico cat perched near a bubbling fountain.  It was an old complex, and brilliant red bougainvillea climbed the stucco walls.  He could smell the scent of the ocean as the evening fog rolled up the Southern California hills.

The cheerful lamps near each door lit up the numbers of the apartments, and he scanned them until he found the one he was looking for.  As he approached, he examined the windows, smiling when he noted the heavy bolts which secured her home.

“Excuse me?  Can I help you?”

He smiled and turned to face the old woman who held the cat in her arms.  Listening carefully to the surrounding apartments, he noted the lack of activity, and the faint sounds of sleep that issued from most.  He held out his hand with a smile and the woman took it, opening her mind to him.

“Where is Beatrice tonight?”

“She went out with some friends from school,” she said with a soft smile.  “I heard them leaving earlier.  Such a nice group of girls.”

He smiled and led the woman over to the bench near the fountain, still holding her hand.  “Do you know her well?”

“She comes over for coffee in the morning sometimes; I think she misses her grandmother.  And she takes care of Miss Tabby for me when I go see my daughter.  I’m glad she moved next door.”

He smiled at the old woman.  “Does she have many friends?”

“Not many.  But the friends that do come by seem very nice.  There are two other young ladies, and a young man I see.”

He paused.  “Are they dating?  Beatrice and the young man?”

The woman tugged on her cardigan, but leaned toward him, as if telling a secret.  “I asked her if she had a boyfriend, but she just looked sad.  I think she left someone behind in Texas.”

“I think she did, too,” he murmured, before he cleared his throat.  “Do you have a key to her apartment, Mrs. …”

“I’m Mrs. Hanson, dear.  You seem like a nice young man.  Are you a friend of Beatrice’s?”

He smiled softly. “Something like that, yes.”

“That’s lovely.  You’re very handsome.”

He smiled, his green eyes lit in amusement.  “Thank you.”

“You should take Beatrice on a date.  She’s very pretty, you know.”

“Yes, she is.”  He smiled.  “She’s beautiful.”

“Are you going to wait for her?  Would you like some hot chocolate?”

He reached over to pet the cat the old woman held.  It purred under his hands and made Mrs. Hanson smile.

“I can’t stay, but I was hoping to leave something for Beatrice.  Do you have a key to her apartment?”

She smiled and nodded.  “Oh, yes.  Do you want to wait here?”