ahead. She gave him a force of which Pattie knew nothing. She had survived sorrow and loss and it had made her stronger, and it was that strength that she shared with him. At her side he felt as though he could scale mountains, in her arms he found a passion he had never known before. But would it last for a lifetime? And could he truly take her home with him? These were the things he wasn't sure of. Pattie Atherton was of his world, of his culture, she was part of an already existing tapestry. It was right that they should be together. Or was it? As he stared down into the deep green eyes of Serena, he was no longer sure. What he wanted was what he had as he held her, the passion, the warmth, the longing, the strength that they shared. He couldn't give that up. But maybe he would have to. “Oh, Christ, Serena … I'm just not sure.” He held her closer and felt her tremble. “I feel like such an ass. I know I should be doing something decisive. And the bitch of it is that you know and Pattie doesn't. I should at least tell her the truth.” He felt guilty about everyone, and torn from deep within.
“No, Brad, you shouldn't. She doesn't have to know. If you marry Pattie, she need never know about me.” It would be just another wartime affair, a soldier and an Italian. There were certainly enough of them around, Serena thought bitterly for a moment, and then she forced the anger from her mind. She had no right to be angry. She had given her heart to him and her self —done what she had done, knowing that there was another woman, and knowing full well that the affair might come to naught. She had gambled and probably lost. But she didn't regret the game. She loved him, and she knew that, whatever he felt for his fiancée, he also loved her. “When is she coming?” Her eyes burned into his and he took a deep breath.
“Tomorrow.”
“Oh, my God.” This was to be their last night, then. “Why didn't you tell me?”
“I wasn't sure exactly when she was coming until tonight. I just got another telegram.” He pulled her into his arms.
“Do you want me to go now?” It was a small voice of bravado, and Brad was quick to shake his head and pull her closer still.
“No… oh, God, don't do that… I need you.” And then he felt suddenly guilty again as he realized how unfair he was being. He pulled back from her slowly. “Do you want to go?” This time it was Serena who shook her head, her eyes locked into his.
“No.”
“Oh, baby …” He buried his face in her neck. “I love you … I feel like such a weakling.”
“You're not. You're only human. These things happen. I suppose,” she sighed wisely, “that they happen every day.” But nothing like it had ever happened to him before. He had never felt this confused. There were two women he wanted, and he had no idea which one was the right way to turn. “Come.” Serena stood up and took his hand then. And when he looked up at her, she seemed more a woman to him than she ever had before. The idea that she was only nineteen was preposterous. She was as old and as wise as time as she stood there, smiling gently, holding out her arms to him, and slowly he stood up. “You look tired, my darling.” She was aching inside, but she didn't let him see that. Instead all that she showed him was her love for him, and her quiet strength. It was the same strength that had allowed her to survive the death of her parents, her banishment to the States, and the loss of her grandmother during the war. It was the same strength that had allowed her to return, and live in the palazzo in the servants' quarters, scrubbing bathroom floors and forgetting that she had ever been a principessa. Now it was that strength that she gave to him. She led him silently into the bedroom, stood beside her mother's bed, and began to take off her clothes slowly. It was an evening ritual between them, and sometimes he helped her and sometimes he only watched, admiring the graceful beauty of her young body and long limbs. But tonight he couldn't