“It’s not impractical.” I step closer. “It’s exactly who you are. Curious, thoughtful, hungry for knowledge. And not far from the family tree.”
She cocks her head to the side. “Pardon?”
“Your father. He had a taste for the subject, as well. Not as global as you and me, perhaps. But he fancied himself a historian of sorts regarding San Remo—a city in Italy where his family is from. Everything he collected is in storage, I believe. Perhaps we could find it someday.”
She smiles. “I’d like that.”
“Would you still like to go to college?”
“What?”
“I could make it happen for you.”
Her eyes go wide. She looks at me like I just said something in a language she doesn’t understand.
“You can’t be serious. No. No way. Not with everything going on. God, I can’t even leave the estate without risking death.”
“After. After the council and Kolya is dealt with. You could enroll wherever you want—Columbia, NYU. Or even outside the city, if you desire. I could arrange for you to work on excavation sites during the summers.”
She just stares at me, as if she wants to make sure she heard me correctly.
“But why? Why would you do that?”
Because I want to give you everything you’ve been denied. Because watching you light up when you talk about your passions makes me want to burn down the world that kept you from pursuing them.
Because I’m falling for you and I don’t know how to stop.
But I don’t say any of that.
“Because you deserve it. Because you’re brilliant and passionate, and it would be a waste not to nurture your talents.”
She’s quiet for a long moment.
“I don’t know what to do with you,” she says finally. “One moment you’re dragging Liza in here like some kind of medieval punishment. And the next you’re offering to send me to college. I don’t get you. Not at all.”
“Perhaps I don’t understand myself half the time. At least when it comes to you.”
I kneel down in front of her. She doesn’t back away.
“I want you to have the life you deserve—education, travel, whatever you want. But I also can’t stand the thought of letting you go, of watching you walk away and build a life that doesn’t include me.”
“Gabriel—”
“I know it’s selfish. I know I don’t have the right to ask you to stay. But I’m asking anyway.”
“What are you saying?”
“I’m saying I want all of you—your mind, your passion, your curiosity, your obsessions.”
She laughs, but it’s shaky. “That’s not… we can’t?—”
“Why not?”
“Because you bought me, Gabriel. Because I’m still your property. How can this be anything real when it started like that?”
“I don’t know,” I admit. “But it feels real to me. Does it feel real to you?”
She regards me for a long moment. God, the urge to kiss her is overwhelming, and I realize I want her more than anything I’ve ever wanted in my life.