I'd just started wheeling my way back towards the terminal entrance when the announcer came on. "Alitalia Flight 713 to St. Louis final boarding call."

Instead of going to get a taxi right away, I went over to the waiting area and stood by the window. The glass kept misting with my breath.

I watched Flight 713 take off.

My stomach twisted, and I didn't know whether it was from relief or fear.

I did know that I probably would have been on that plane at that moment if I'd remembered to put my phone on silent, if I hadn't heard Liam's calls.

The phone chirped again. A text, not a call.

I pulled it out of my pocket.

Please tell me you weren't on that.

He was here, at the airport. I looked around, my heart pounding against my ribs. However, it had seemed a few inbound flights had begun disembarking and the terminal had flooded with passengers and I could see nothing but a steady flow of people.

Suddenly I needed to see him. The impulse came on so strong that I almost left my luggage by the window.

I'm here still, I texted back, joining the surge of people through the terminal, almost running into a slow-moving older gentleman with a cane in front of me.

My stomach tightened up as I cast my eyes about, searching for his familiar features. I wanted to see him so badly, but I also felt embarrassment, too. Would he be disappointed in me? Would he tell me that I'd been foolish to try and leave?

Then the flow of people began parting around something ahead of me, like water around a rock in the middle of a river.

It turned out to be Liam. As soon as I saw him, I knew it had been right to stay, to not run away.

And there was nothing on his face but relief. I let go of my luggage and ran to him. He caught me up in his arms and lifted me off the polished floor.

People must have thought we were lovers reunited after a long parting. I didn't care what people thought.

"I thought you'd left me," Liam said, his breath hot against my cheek, his stubble tickling and prickling me.

"I'm sorry," I said. It was all I could say.

"I came here thinking I'd be able to stop you at security, but there was so much traffic on the A91. Then I checked the flight list and saw yours taking off and I thought..."

"I know, I'm sorry," I said as he set me down. The crowd still parted around us. Just another happy reunion. Nothing to see here.

"I was about to go charter a private flight and come after you," he said. He had his arms wrapped around my waist, hands clasped tightly at the small of back as though to keep me from trying to escape again.

"I told you not to come after me," I said. My heartbeat hadn't slowed, and warmth flushed my cheeks. My eyes felt wet, making me blink more. Don't cry. Please don't cry.

I held the tears back, somehow. This was the right thing, I could feel it. That I'd been just about to leave now seemed like a dream. A nightmare, more like. All the reasons I'd given myself looked hollow and overblown.

"You couldn't have seriously believed I would have let you get away that easily," Liam said. He squeezed me harder for an instant. He kissed me again, his relief palpable. It was a vigorous kiss, a wanton kiss, a Thank-God-I-Found-You kiss.

"Now what?" I asked.

"Now I'm going to take you away from here before you can change your mind again." He grabbed my luggage with one hand and draped his other arm over my shoulders and then started leading me towards the exit.

We passed by the roped lines where I'd stood not so long ago, waiting to buy my ticket out of here. My steps grew more hesitant the closer we came to those sliding doors.

"What is it?" Liam said, pulling us to a halt beside a pillar festooned with TVs.

"Are you sure this is the right thing? You're certain you're not making a mistake? That I'm not a mistake?"

"Emma, I've made my fair share of mistakes in my life. But you're not one of them. I've never felt more right about anything in my life. I know because I'm scared. More scared than I've ever been."

"Scared?" I said. That was an emotion I thought Liam could never feel.

"Yes, of what I've been feeling for you. Scared of how much I need you, scared of the pain I felt when I read your note and I thought that I'd lost you. Scared of what might happen if I give myself over totally to what I'm feeling for you."

"What do you feel?" I said. I noticed then that I'd begun to tremble. I could see in his eyes what he meant. Those eyes of his that never lied. Those eyes of his that had fascinated and beguiled me from the first moment they'd met mine.

"Not here," Liam said, glancing at the emotionless, warehouse-like stylings of the airport terminal, "Not like this."

That frustrated me, but I also understood it. I managed to get a grip on myself. "Okay."

"Now, no more interruptions from you. I don't want to see this place in anything but my rearview mirror while I take you back where we both know you belong."

"Stop," I said, brushing the pad of my thumb beneath my eyes.

"Stop what?"

"Being so good to me. I don't think I can take much more of it."

He started wheeling my luggage forward again. "I'd get used to it if I were you. If I want something, I don't stop until it's mine. No matter what's blocking my way."

Then I couldn't wait to sit beside him in that BMW, to see the hills of Rome appear as we crested the hills.

Except when we got outside his BMW wasn't there. No, it had been towed. We watched the truck wheel the sleek coupe away, the beams of sunlight running like liquid over its panels.

"I guess I deserve that for double parking it. Don't look at me like that! I was in a hurry."

We both laughed, me harder than I should have. It was just that I thought there wasn't anything in my life worth laughing about anymore. No one in my life to share a laugh with.

But of course I was wrong on both counts. And glad to be.

So instead the billionaire CEO waved down a cab as it dropped off its fare. And he even held the door for me as I clambered in. He piled in beside me, our thighs touching. His hand found mine and he clutched it tightly.

"Dove?" (Where?) the driver asked, looking over his shoulder at us. He didn't blink an eye at young couple sharing the back seat, and I liked that. To him, we looked normal, we looked like we belonged together.

Liam gave him the intersection nearest my flat. My pulse started pounding again when I wondered if Mrs. Rosselini had found the letter to her that I'd taped to the outside of my door.

I'd have a lot of explaining I didn't look forward to if she had. Though I suppose I deserved it.

"Lots of traffic on the highway, yeah?" the driver said, "It will take longer. Multo."

Liam waved the driver's concern away. The man put the cab into gear, the transmission shifting much more roughly than the BMW, and we lurched away from the curb.

He was right, though. Traffic had snarled on the A91, turning it into a parking lot. The reflection of the sun off so many roofs and windshields made the road look like a glittering river.

"So that was some goodbye kiss," Liam said.

My cheeks heated. "I thought I'd never see you again."

"There was something about it I couldn't figure it. At first I thought that maybe you were a little drunker than you let on."

"Hey! I can hold my alcohol," I said, nudging him with my elbow, "I resent your implication."

"But if you really hadn't wanted me to follow you, you shouldn't have kissed me like that. You've got me hooked."