Stephano proposed on the Spanish steps; the roses bloomed for the special occasion. Leah
looked at him wide-eyed and embarrassed,
"Excuse me?"
"Won't you marry me?" he repeated through perfect English. His eyes were as gentle as they were that first time, when he caught her looking at him across the restaurant. He rubbed her left ring finger between his thumb and pointer, her other fingers lying lifelessly in his palm. He didn't rush her to answer, aware that she'd rather not. Smiling, Stephano rose to his feet and calmed her stuttering lips by holding them with his own; her breathing steadied. With the same imposition, he slid his arm across her hips and led her down the stairs towards the Piazza di Spagna, the ring impatient in his other hand.
...
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