Now here she was, poking her head inside the gate, staring in wonder at the fairyland he'd had created just for them.

"Whoa," she breathed. "Oh, boy. Joe-"

Small paper bags filled with votive candles lined the edge of the pool and patio. All the outdoor lights were off except for the underwater pool light, and he'd twined bits of honeysuckle in strands of tiny white Christmas lights, which twinkled in a crisscross pattern overhead. The table was covered in a white linen tablecloth on which he'd displayed all of the evening's treats-except for the spray cheese, which he'd hidden until the time was right.

"Would you like some champagne?"

Charlotte stepped inside and clicked the gate shut behind her. She stood perfectly still, staring.

His, heart filled with delight when she began to giggle.

"This is so unbelievably cool, Joe!"

He took a step toward her, loving the way her little sleeveless yellow sundress rode her curves. It was the first time he'd ever seen her in a dress, and it had been worth waiting for. "I was kind of aiming for hot, Charlotte."

She smiled and held out her hand to him. "You're always hot, Joe Cool."

As her silky little hand slipped inside his, Joe closed his eyes with the realization that she'd soon wear his ring, that he'd be able to feel the hard line of the platinum band and the three stones under the pressure of his palm.

"Is it really your birthday, or did you say that just to lure me to your cave?"

"I'm thirty-eight today, and I'm glad you came to my cave to celebrate with me."

Joe watched Charlotte's neat auburn brows knit together. "How come you didn't tell me this morning? We could have planned a party for you."

"This is a party." He pulled her close and let his hands slide up her slender back. The warmth of her skin radiated through the thin fabric of her dress. "A party of two."

"Mmmmm…" If Charlotte had planned on saying more, the words melted on contact with the heat of his kiss, and he gloried in the way she sighed and eased her body into his.

"I didn't even get you a present," Charlotte whispered, then nibbled on the soft flesh of his earlobe.

"That's what you think." As they laughed, he pulled her tight, so tight that her feet left the patio. He hugged Charlotte close for a long moment, then eased her back down. "Come have a seat." He guided her to a poolside chair and made sure she was comfortable. "How did the rest of your day go?"

Charlotte let her head relax against the cushion and gave him the widest, most glorious smile he'd ever seen on a woman's face. That woman right there glowing in the candlelight was his woman, and that smile was for him and no other man on the planet, and Joe had to admit there was something ass-kickingly wonderful about that.

"My day was busy but good. I had a new client interview. I think this one will be the last I can take on. Isn't that great?"

"It is. What else happened today?"

"Oh, Matt made a great catch tonight, a screaming line drive. Hank had four RBIs."

"You've got terrific kids, Charlotte."

He hardly thought it possible, but her smile just got wider. "Thanks for noticing. How was your day, Joe?"

He had to chuckle. "Good, thanks." He took his seat across from her and popped the champagne cork, then poured two glasses.

After a quick little tap of their glasses, Charlotte said, "Happy birthday, Joe Mills," then eased jback into her chair and took a sip. "You know, I've been assuming that Mills is a simplified version of Milani or Mizzelli or something like that. Do you know the history of your name?"

"Ah. Yes, I do." Joe took a deep breath and smiled at her. Here it comes. "My last name means 'beautiful evening' in Italian."

The little frown returned to Charlotte's brow and she shook her head. "What name? I'm not following you. Your real family name?"

"Yes. My last name is Bellacera, a takeoff oa the words bella for beautiful and sera for evening, just like the one I hope to have tonight with you."

Charlotte looked perplexed. "How in the world did anybody get Mills out of that?"

Joe laughed. "They didn't, sweetheart. What I'm telling you is that Mills is just a name my bosses gave me about a month ago when I moved here-to help me stay below radar. My real name is Joseph Salvatore Bellacera."

He reached over for Charlotte's hand, lying on the table limp with shock, and raised it to his lips. "And it's a pleasure to make the acquaintance of such an extraordinary woman."

Charlotte's eyes grew wide and she pulled her hand away, immediately crossing her arms over her chest.

"I suppose the name's another secret I've got to keep?"

"If you wouldn't mind."

"How many more of those you got, Joe?"

"Just a few more. Here, baby, have a chocolate-dipped strawberry." He leaned forward and pressed the tip of a big, juicy strawberry against her lips. She didn't budge. "Come on, Charlotte; I checked-there are no artificial preservatives in the chocolate."

That made her laugh just enough that he could insinuate the fruit between her luscious lips. She took the whole thing on her tongue, her eyes sparkling in the light as she chewed.

"Yummy," she admitted.

"I got crackers and grapes, too."

"Anything else I should know?"

"I got squirt cheese."

"I'm serious.".

"So am I." Joe rose from his chair and moved to Charlotte's feet, where he knelt down on one knee and took both her hands in his,

"Charlotte, I have something very important I'd like to ask you."

During her first proposal of marriage, Charlotte was distracted by shameful thoughts of Joe. While Kurt asked her to be his wife, her entire being wallowed in the essence of Joe-how his touch melted her fears, how the dark power of his voice drew her out of hiding, how his gaze locked onto her soul.

It was the same this time around, only without the shame. All she felt was joy-a full-body rush of joy because what she craved and what was being offered were one and the same.

"Do you think you've always loved me, Charlotte?"

She heard herself let go with a soft laugh. It was a legitimate question-one she'd asked herself repeatedly in the last few days. She knew her answer hinged on the definition of the word itself-a word people used for nearly every relationship there was.

Of course, she loved her children unconditionally. She loved Bonnie and Ned. She loved her parents, despite the years of distance. And the love she'd had for Kurt had been steady, comforting, and very real for a very long time.

But what she felt for Joe was something else entirely-it was passion, and it felt bottomless, exhilarating, consuming. She'd come to see that Joe was the great passion of her life. But was passion love? And if not, could passion grow into love ova: time?

She wondered which path she and Joe would take as a couple. Would they go through life as loving companions, like Ned and Bonnie? Or crash through the years like Jimmy and LoriSue, making a mess of most everything along the way?

"Can't you answer me?"

She blinked, unsure how much time had passed, but the wounded look on Joe's face told her she'd hesitated too long. She answered as honestly as she could.

"It's like nothing I've ever felt before. It's big and it's wild and it's a little overwhelming to me, but it's exactly what I need."

His face relaxed, and she watched him lower his head for a moment, as if immensely relieved. His shoulders moved in a slow sigh; then he looked up at her, smiling.

"Scared me there for a minute."

She stroked his glossy black hair, felt his hard skull under her fingers, and thought how lucky she was. She'd had two men love her in this lifetime-two very different men-who'd given her the gift of themselves.