Homeport

treacherous face. “I didn’t expect you to come back.”
    “Actually, to be honest, neither did I.” He set the bronze on the stone table. “We’d both gotten what we’d wanted. You’ve got your reputation. You’re quite a celebrity these days. You’ve been vindicated. More than vindicated, you’ve been lauded. I imagine you’ve had offers from book publishers and Hollywood to sell your story.”
    She had, and it continued to embarrass her. “You haven’t answered the question.”
    “I’m getting to it,” he muttered. “I kept the deal. I never agreed to give the David back, and as to her—I never agreed to anything but to find her. I found her, and now she’s mine, so there’s a new deal on the table. How bad do you want her?”
    It took all her willpower not to gape. “You mean to sell her to me? You want me to buy stolen property?”
    “Actually, I was thinking of a trade.”
    “A trade?” She thought of the Cellini he coveted. And the Donatello. Her palms began to itch. “What do you want for her?”
    “You.”
    Her rapid thoughts screeched to a halt. “Excuse me?”
    “A lady for a lady. It seems fair.”
    She paced to the end of the terrace, back again. Oh, he was worse than a worm, she decided. “You expect me to have sex with you in exchange for a Michelangelo.”
    “Don’t be stupid. You’re good, but nobody’s that good. I want the whole package. She’s mine, Miranda. I might even be able to claim finder’s privilege, though it’s dicey. But I have her, and you don’t. In the past few days it occurred to me, much to my discomfort, that I want you more than I want her.”
    “I’m not following you.”
    “Yes, you are. You’re too bright not to. You can have her. You can put her on the mantel or give her back to Florence. You can use her for a doorstop, I won’t give a damn. But you’ll have to give me what I want for her. I’ve got a yen to live in this house.”

    There was such a terrible pressure in her chest. “You want to live here?”
    He narrowed his eyes. “You know, Dr. Jones, I don’t think you’re pretending to be thick. You just don’t get it. Yes, I want to live in this house. It’s a good spot to raise children. Look at that, you went white as a ghost. God, that’s one of the things I love about you. You’re always so shocked when someone interrupts the logic. And I love you, Miranda, beyond sense.”
    She made some sound, it couldn’t be construed as words, as her heart staggered in her chest. Stumbled. Fell.
    He crossed to her, amused now rather than panicked. She hadn’t moved a muscle. “I really have to insist on children, Miranda. I’m Irish and Italian. What else would you expect?”
    “You’re asking me to marry you?”
    “I’m working my way up to it. It might surprise you that it’s not any easier for me than it is for you. I said I love you.”
    “I heard you.”
    “Damn, stubborn—” He cut himself off, inhaled sharply. “You want the bronze, don’t you?” Before she could answer he caught her chin in his hand. “You’re in love with me.” When her brows came together, he grinned. “Don’t bother to deny it. If you weren’t you’d have turned me over in a heartbeat when you realized I’d gone after her for myself.”
    “I’ve gotten over it.”
    “Liar.” He lowered his mouth, just to nibble at hers. “Take the deal, Miranda. You won’t regret it.”
    “You’re a thief.”
    “Retired.” He molded her hip with one hand, reached into his pocket with the other. “Here, let’s make it official.”
    She struggled out of the kiss and jerked her hand free when he started to slip the ring onto it. The ring, she noted with surprise and delight, he’d given her once before.
    “Don’t be so pigheaded.” He took her hand, uncurled her fingers and pushed the ring into place. “Take the deal.”

    Now she recognized the pressure in her chest. It was her heart beating again. “Did you pay for the ring?”
    “Jesus. Yes, I paid for the ring.”
    She let herself consider it, watched it wink and sparkle. And let him sweat, she thought. She hoped. “I’ll give her back to Italy. Explanations of how I came by her might be awkward.”
    “We’ll think of something. Take the deal, damn it.”
    “How many children?”
    His smile spread slowly. “Five.”
    She snorted out a laugh. “Please. Two.”
    “Three, with an option.”
    “Three, final.”
    “Done.” He started to lower his head, but she