Nicholas spread the blanket on the ground and Trissa opened the basket and lay the dinner before them. He placed the candle stubs like soldiers along the rock rim of the grotto and lit them. They both groaned at the size of the feast and sat down to nibble at their sandwiches and pinch tiny morsels from the corners of the giant wedges of chocolate cake Ruth had wrapped for them.
"My stomach is so fluttery, I can hardly swallow."
"Are you sick?"
"No, it's not that." She looked up at him, her eyes veiled in a haze of fear. "I'm scared, Nicholas. I'm scared to have so much and know I'll lose it. I'm scared the price is too high for all of this, and I'm scared of how I'll have to pay."
"There is no paying for it. You won't go back to him. Or think of running away. Promise me, Trissa. Promise."
"I can't. I love you too much. He said -- my father swore he'd hurt you. I won't go back. But if I ran away, he'd have no reason. You'd be safer if I were far away."
The stem of his wine glass snapped in Nicholas' hands, a shard of it piercing his wrist. A bright dot of blood sprang from the wound and trickled down his arm. She gasped and reached for him to press it with her napkin and stop the bleeding. He kissed the top of her head as she bent over it.
"He can't hurt me, Trissa. And I won't let him hurt you. He's done with destroying your life. He lost you and I have you and I will never let you go." He pushed aside the broken glass and gathered her to his lap. "I need your promise to trust me in this. I have to have it."
"I don't know. Leaving is such a simple thing. My bags are packed. Georgia Pulasky would help me. She said she would. I still have her card." Silent tears brimmed from her eyes, and he held her close and soothed her. "It will hurt. And I'll be lonely. I'd miss Augusta and Roger. And the others. Even Hattie. But I would survive. The worst. The worst of all is that you would not be there."
"I can't lose you, Trissa. Don't leave. Promise me. I love you."
"Then make love to me." His thoughtful silence brought a wistful smile to her lips and she scooted from his lap to get her purse. "Look what I brought." She reached in and withdrew the scallop shell he had given her after their first dinner out together. "Do you think it still holds its secret, potent powers?"
"We can find out." He took it from her and filled the shallow, white shell with wine and held it to her lips. She sipped from it, then pushed it toward him. He drank the rest then kissed her, like the seal on a wish, like the touch of a wand on a spell.
Without a word, she cleared dinner away, and he set up the record player on a stone bench. They finished at the same time, and when the music started, Nat King Cole's husky baritone sang. "Pretend you're happy when you're blue. It isn't very hard to do." Nicholas drew her to her feet and swept her into his arms to dance.
Their feet kept shuffling the steps long after the record ended. Nicholas dipped his head to kiss her and Trissa's fingers wavered over his shirt buttons. "You broke in this place and made us criminals, Nicholas. Now, it's my turn to break some rules."
Deftly, she slipped each button from its hole and nestled her head in the crisp, sandy hair on his chest. With a light, brushing caress, her hand moved over it like a whisper flickers a candle flame.
He caught her hand and brought it to his lips and kissed each fingertip, her palm, and her wrist. "Promise, Trissa. Promise."
"I promise."
Their next kiss weakened her knees, and Nicholas clutched her close and bore her down to the floor. All the boundaries broken, all the honor dismissed for some greater virtue, they lay upon the blanket that had once been the wall between them. The same pearl buttons Nicholas had fastened with such brisk efficiency submitted to his touch again.
He moved his lips down her throat until they burned through the lace edging of her bra. Even so muffled, she could not resist their pledge. His fingertips lightly caressed her nipples and she shivered in