Blake looks at his watch, ‘Come on,’ he says and takes me closer to the water’s edge. Suddenly music fills the air. I look around surprised. It is Pink and Nat Ruess.

‘They’re playing our song, Lana.’

I gaze up at him. ‘You remembered.’

‘How could I forget? The night is branded in my mind forever. You were so, so innocent and so very beautiful.’ He puts his hands on either side of my cheeks and turns my face towards the fountains. ‘Watch the fountains dance,’ he says, and stands so close behind me.

I lean back and stare with amazement. All around me people are taking their phones out to record the stupendous spectacle. Indeed, they are dancing fountains. Soaring, leaning, bending, running like fire upon the surface of the water, all in tempo with the music. It is very beautiful and I am so overcome with joy that tears gather in my eyes and streak down my face.

When the last fountain dies down, he turns me around to face him.

‘Why are you crying?’

I sniff loudly. ‘These are happy tears. Just ignore me.’

‘Until I met you I never wanted a woman’s tears, but I want yours. I want your sighs, I want your laughter, I want your joy, your smell, your smile. I want it all.’

Behind me I hear fireworks. I turn my face up to the skies and watch the beautiful display. They are still exploding around us when Blake takes a ring out of his jacket and slips it on my finger.

I gaze down at it. It is the biggest pink diamond I have ever seen. It would have been gaudy if not for the plain setting and the astonishing intensity of its color. The light from the fireworks makes it glitter like a pink fire. It is also a perfect fit. It is too big and beautiful to not be… Is it? Could it really be? I look up at him with shocked eyes. The flare from the fireworks streak across his face.

‘Are you asking me to marry you?’


‘Oh.’ The wind changes. A fine mist of water from the fountain reaches us, lands on my skin. It is deliciously cool on my flushed skin.

‘If you ask you might get a no and I’m not taking no for an answer. I’m telling you: we’re getting married.’

For a moment I take in the beautiful, beautiful eyes, that tough, unyielding jaw, the straight mouth, the aristocratic nose, then I fling my arms around his neck and our lips meet in the most beautiful kiss. It is deep and lusty and romantic and just perfect. I forget the fireworks, the people, the fountain.

All I know is when he first kissed me a lifetime ago, he didn’t kiss my lips, he kissed my soul.