"I want to tell you what I should have told you that day in my office if I'd been brave enough then, if I'd been strong enough then. I want to tell you that I trust you, and that I love you, and that I don't want to live my life without you. And I'm hoping you'll forgive me for pushing you away, for saying such cruel things to you, for lying, and I hope . . . I hope you can help me forgive myself. I'm sorry, I'm so very sorry." His voice was a raw ache and my heart leapt in my chest.

I tried to sort through all he'd just said, my mind grasping onto three in particular. "You . . . love me?" I asked, hope almost rendering me breathless.

I took a step toward him, but he held his hand up, halting me in my tracks. I blinked at him. And then tears sprung to my eyes when understanding dawned. He wanted to come to me. He did so, halting just a few steps from where I stood. A tremulous smile tilted up the corners of my lips.

"Yes," he said, "I love you so much I feel like an empty shell without you."

I bit my trembling lip. "And those things you said about being with other . . ." My voice trailed off, the brutal pain of that moment coming back to me and stealing the words.

"No," he rasped. "God, no. I said those things to hurt you like I thought you were hurting me." He closed his eyes, a look of shame passing over his handsome features. "I have been and always will be faithful to you—body, and also heart and soul. I made a vow and I intend to live by it."

I smiled on a small, gasping breath, attempting to hold back a sob, suddenly weak with relief. "I've been faithful to you, too. That day in Napa, I was only with Cooper because it was part of the plan, and he thought I still lived there. I had to find out what functions he'd be at. After that, I made excuses. I never went anywhere with him that night or any other."

He squeezed his eyes shut for a moment. "I'm so sorry I ever doubted you."

I shook my head. "It looked bad, I know. I would have explained, but—"

"I was awful. Beyond awful."

I put my fingers to his lips, sniffling as I gazed at his face. "You were hurting."

He nodded, his expression pained and guilt-ridden.

"I thought for sure you'd serve me with divorce papers. You didn't take my father's deal?"

He shook his head. "No, I didn't. I'd rather starve."

I looked down. "Well, that's a convenient attitude because we still might. I don't know how long it will take to get the hold taken off my gram's money, or even if my father will still pursue that. He might—"

"Turns out, Jessica Hawthorn was interested in investing in the family vineyard."

I tilted my head, looking at him with confusion. "She did?" I'd only met with her so briefly. She'd agreed to give me the money to fund my plan, but she had been terse and dismissive.

"Yeah." He smiled and there was a note of wonder in it.

"And," he continued, "I want you to know that I came to all the conclusions about my feelings for you, and all the ways I've acted like a complete jackass, before I found out what you did for me, for us," he paused, "outrageous as it was," he didn't seem to be able to help adding.

I swallowed, my smile fading as I looked down. "I schemed and plotted . . ." I looked up into his eyes. "I had to, Grayson. I didn't know if you'd truly take my father's deal or not, but if you did, he would have ruined your name and all the progress you'd made in fixing your reputation, and if you didn't, you'd be penniless. And it was all my fault. I had to fix it. I had to try." Tears sprung to my eyes.

He stepped toward me, a tender smile appearing on his face. "I know, little witch. And we have a lot to talk about on that subject. But first I want you to know that I was wrong when I said you were anything at all like your father, or mine. You do plot, it's true," he smiled and ran a finger over my cheekbone, "but your ideas are filled with love and a joy for life, just like you. Nothing bad could come from you, Kira, because nothing bad is within you."

Relief and happiness flowed through my veins unheeded. I shook my head. "I won't plot anymore," I insisted. "I mean . . . unless it's something very, very important." I shifted my eyes to the side. "Or, well, unless—"

My words halted and my eyes shot to his face at the sound of his soft chuckle, his gaze filled with gentle amusement. "Okay," he said quietly. "I love you, Kira. I'll never stop saying it. I'm ready to brave the thorns. I'll plunge myself on them for you."

"Sounds painful," I breathed.

He laughed. "I'm hoping it was a metaphor. Charlotte," he said in explanation. Ah. Yes, Charlotte. She'd been calling and checking on me every day and although I hadn't confided my most recent Very Bad Idea until it was over and the tape had been sent to the news, she'd kept me going with her wise advice and words of comfort, and most of all offering her grandmotherly love.

"The rose," I said. "I got that one, too."

His lips tipped up in a boyish smile as he brushed a lock of hair away from my face. His expression became sadly contemplative. "I wish I had been truly ready to live by her words. We might have avoided these past few weeks."

Emotion overwhelmed me and a tear rolled down my cheek. Grayson used his thumb to swipe it away. I caught the glint of silver and looked more closely at his hand as it fell away. "You found the ring?" I breathed.