The bedroom was supernova bright when Zara woke up. That could only mean one thing – there was a lot of snow outside reflecting more sunlight into the room. Being from the south where they rarely saw blizzards she couldn't wait to see what nature had painted. Yet, the feeling of Roman sprawled over legs and limbs, was too irresistible to climb out of bed. Last night was so different from the night before.

That first night that she'd arrived at Roman's penthouse, tension and worry overwhelmed her. Last night she lavished in the sweetness of strong arms and a warm body. They'd crossed a milestone and she had no intention of drawing back. Was she still nervous about being vulnerable? Yes. But the shift had come in that she was willing to take a risk. Zara snuggled against him feeling total bliss. Her back pressed against his chest, and the weight of his muscled arm encasing her waist, and leg covering her hip felt so good. Soft puffs of breath tickled Zara's neck as her head rested on his arm. I wish that I hadn't pushed him away and could have done this a lot sooner. For Zara to admit that she pushed him away was a great relief. He would have never married if she'd given him a chance.

Roman tried to draw Zara into his life two years ago. But she'd used the excuse that he needed more time to grieve. Though her self-perception held her back from his affections, she also hid the other main reason.

Though she didn't want to think of the memory from 2 years ago she needed to face her demons so that she could move foreword...

***

Zara stepped around Roman. "This is the most inappropriate time to talk." Agitated, she huffed off towards the house.

Roman ran his hands through his hair, a sudden burst of fresh frustration surging from head to toe. His jaw clenched and cheeks reddened but not because of the cold. He followed her through the doors and flung himself down on the sofa.

"Why? Because of Calista? She's not coming back. Zara, tell me that you don't love me and we won't have this discussion again."

"I don't want to talk about this," she said, stuffing her hands over her ears.

"You're pushing me away, but you know in your heart that it's time for us to take a chance at something we've been avoiding."

"We're both running off of emotions right now. You're - you're - not processing things right," she sputtered. "Going through grief makes you want to do and say things..."

In that, she was 100% correct. He did want to do things. It had been a struggle from the time that she'd arrived not to kiss her all over and make love to her. He fantasized a thousand times what he would say and do to Zara if she gave him one single millimeter. Roman knew in his heart that she'd melt right into his touch. That she'd want him as desperate as he wanted her.

They weren't trying to hurt each other, but just being real. Walls needed to tumble. Cracks in her armor needed to burst wide open. Roman soaked up the fact that for once they got real with each other. That was something that they'd never done before. Despite her current opposition he wasn't giving up today, or the next day or the day after that. He might have to go through more hell, but he'd have her.

"That's enough denial," he said softly. He lifted from the sofa, crossed the room and kneeled in front of her. Roman placed his hand on her knee that shook, calming it. He leaned over and kissed her hand that clutched the side of the sofa.

"You are right in one thing, grief makes you do things, but not in the way that you are thinking. In your presence, my grief makes me not want to be alone right now. That is why I asked you to stay. Your presence keeps me. But I am completely in my right state of mind." He eased off the floor and sat next to her.

"I am not grieving over Calista as you think. I miss her presence, as any widow would. I treated her in a manner that I could never regret. I told you that already."

Roman pulled out his cell, sliding his fingers over the screen. He held the cell up so that Zara could see it. "Have you ever seen one of these?"

Zara's throat was bone dry. She squeaked out, "No."

"This is a sand mandala."

"It's more beautiful than stars, Roman."

"Yes, it is. It is one of the most beautiful arts of all creations. Buddhist monks spend hours, maybe even months creating these works of art. They take tiny pieces of colored sand and make the most magnificent designs. Do you know what they do with them when they finish?"

She shook her head.

"They destroy it."

Zara's eyes widened. "I don't understand? Why would they do that?"

He took her hands. Zara's trembled at his touch and the intensity in those haunting hazel eyes that seemed to be peering straight into her soul. Zara's breath hitched in her throat.

"They destroy it to remind themselves that things can change at any moment," he whispered. "Then they separate each grain of sand, the ruins, and build something beautiful all over again."

Zara closed her eyes, feeling scorched from his words. Perspiration popped from her forehead in tiny beads. Her heart raced out of control. Soft lips brushed hers, lingering there. Sparks flamed around them. Roman slipped his hand under her chin.

"Look at me," his soothing voice flowed around them. Zara locked eyes with him. "She is no more. I intend to rebuild."

Roman whispered in her ear, melting Zara on contact. "We have danced this dance way too long. You love me, Zara. Don't we owe ourselves to see what life could be like together?"

If he had only known what happened a few days before. Something Zara had not wrapped her mind around and couldn't think to share it right now. "Roman – I can't."

***

Everything he said was true – she did love him. Zara never forgot the look in his eyes that day – a mix of frustration and helplessness. He walked away from her and took a drive out into the city to clear his head. The fact that she was laying in his arms this moment, let her indeed know that Roman was the epitome of true love. Love is patient, love is kind, and love is longsuffering. Most of all love never gives up. Thank you for not giving up on me. I do love you. Tears trickled down her face as her frozen heart thawed. I swear that I'm going to make all this up to you, Roe.

Warm dripping tears awakened Roman. He leaned over – alarmed. "Are you okay? Why are you crying?"

She touched his face. "I'm crying because I am happy. I am so happy to finally be here with you. There is no place that I'd rather be right now."

Relief flooded Roman's face, he exhaled not realizing that he'd been holding air in his lungs. Then that smile came – that bright, beautiful, sexy-as-hell smile. Zara didn't care about morning breath; she hooked an arm around his neck, brought him down and kissed him - hard.

***

At Zara's request, Roman brought breakfast up to the solarium. She couldn't wait to see the snow. With the room enclosed in glass from the floor to the roof, it looked as if they were inside of an igloo. Zara twirled in wonderment as she took in the sight. "This is amazing," she said, looking up and around at the condensed snow. "I'll never see a sight like this again – a freaking snow globe."

Oh, yes you will, when you move here. "The travel channel said that this is the storm of the decade."

"Have they said how long that the blizzard will keep us snowbound?"

Don't know. Don't care. Just want us moving forward. "No, not yet. But from experience, I'd say at least four days to a week."

Zara made a slow turn and stared at Roman. "A week?"

Color drained out of her face. Roman knew that he had to divert the matter so that they wouldn't have taken two steps forward and one step backward. Zara liked to be in a position to exit when things got difficult. There wasn't a chance of that now. "Would it be so terrible to spend one uninterrupted week with me? Think of it like we're on an Alaskan cruise."

She took in a deep breath and released. "That's a thought."

He smirked. "Breakfast is getting cold. I made ham and Swiss cheese omelets and hash browns."

After they got seated, Roman got straight to business. He wasn't sure how long Zara would remain trapped, so he determined that he'd not waste a moment. If they could concentrate all their time dealing with issues, then the path from friends to his wife would be short and sweet. But with all his eagerness, he was well aware to use caution.

"This is so good," she said, eating a forkful of the omelet. "You added nutmeg to this?"

"How discerning and a few thin cut leafs of spinach."

"Good choice."

Roman eased into the subject, with a silent prayer. "I think that we made progress yesterday. Don't you?"

She nodded.

"And I think that we would make even more progress if we talked about things. You know – clear the air."

"I am way out of my comfort zone. But I want things to work out and I will do my best," she said.