Havana, February 2004

Boris expertly flicked his brush across his horse's back, a sense of contentment filling him. Though this hadn't been part of his initial Valentine's Day plans, it wasn't the worst way he'd ever spent the holiday.

"Am I doing this right, Senior Boris?" Boris looked over at the boy standing beside him. Marisa's nephew was the most animated he'd seen him in three days. The nine year old's dark eyes were shining with excitement as he groomed the horse.

"Solemente Boris, Miguel. And yes, you are doing an excellent job. Afortunada likes you." Boris liked him too. Boris had had very few interactions with children in his adult life. Speaking to Miguel had been refreshing. The conversations held an honesty rarely found in adult discourse.

"Ella también me gusta. Do you think I can give her a special treat?" Boris smiled at the boy's earnestness.

"I may have some carrots in the kitchen. You can stay here and keep brushing her. Remember what I said about areas to avoid?" Miguel nodded vehemently, his dark hair briefly falling into his eyes.

"Si, no head, mane, tail or lower legs."

"Bien. If you have any questions, ask Victor." Boris turned to the groom who stood at attention nearby. "Mantenlo vigilado."

He wasn't truly concerned Afortunada would spook, but he believed in being cautious. Boris had purchased the mild-mannered mare hoping Marisa would take a shine to her, but unfortunately, Miguel's love of all things equine was not shared by his aunt. Still, Boris had little call to complain about the current trajectory of his life.

It had been nearly five months since the investors party and Boris had never been happier. It was as if a weight he'd been carrying for years was lifted. Being with Marisa was invigorating in all of the best ways.

It wasn't perfect, of course. He still was required to travel quite a bit more than he liked. He'd missed Christmas by a week, thanks to an unforeseen crisis in Turkmenistan. Interestingly, it hadn't been the fact he'd failed to appear for the holiday that had gotten him into trouble. No, it had been his gift.

Boris had bought Marisa a ruby necklace valued at a half million dollars. He'd thought he'd restrained him admirably. In fact Dima, whom he'd made the mistake of consulting, thought it a bit plain. Marisa had the opposite reaction, asking him whose coronation he was expecting her to attend. The ensuing argument had been…illuminating.

His position had been that, given his vast wealth, a gift of what Marisa considered 'reasonable value' would be the equivalent of a normal man gifting her a toy from a cereal box. He wanted to present her with something that properly expressed his high esteem. Marisa had opined that the point of a gift was to please its recipient. She felt his offering was an unwelcome reminder of their vast socio-economic differences.

In the end, Boris had returned the necklace and purchased a set of gold earrings and pendant necklace from a local jeweler. However, he had not been willing to completely allow Marissa her way. In what he'd felt was a fair compromise, he'd flown in half a million dollars worth of broad spectrum antibiotics from his pharmaceutical company Germany. He still got to spend the money on something he knew she wanted. She could hardly feel guilty accepting something from him she would turn around to distribute to those in need. Marisa had graciously acquiesced and the issue had been put to bed.

On this visit he had brought more jewelry, though he fervently hoped this time he wouldn't have to send it back. Boris thought of the small gold band surrounded in high clarity diamonds locked in his safe upstairs with excited anticipation. Making the decision to buy it had been simple. Figuring out how to give it to the woman he loved was proving more difficult than he'd imagined.

He'd envisioned surprising Marisa by arriving three days early and whisking her away for a long weekend at his villa in Tuscany. There he'd hoped they could spend their days drinking from wine in his vineyard and making love. He'd hoped to cap the experience with a marriage proposal over a private candlelit dinner.

Unfortunately, when Boris had shown up at Marisa's home, he'd found her loading a suitcase into her car. He had then learned that her father's birthday was February 13th and the Casseras were gathering to celebrate. Marisa had planned a short stay in her childhood home before returning to meet Boris on the 14th.

He'd rallied by inviting Marisa's family to stay at his home instead. Boris had sent his car for her father and brother, both of whom lived locally. He'd sent his plane for Marisa's nephew, sister, and brother in law, who lived near a resort on the other side of the island. In the end all but the brother in law were able to attend.

Perhaps things had worked out for the best. It was only right Boris met his future wife's family and that they met him. He was as yet undecided if he should follow tradition and ask for Marisa's father's blessing. On the one hand Marisa was a modern woman and might resent the implication her father had any say in her marital decisions. On the other hand Marisa was very close with her remaining parent and had a deep respect for the customs of her country. Another consideration was that Boris liked Hector Casseras and felt perhaps a word of warning was due, considering how drastically marriage into his family would change Marisa's life.

On the whole he thought the weekend was going well. Hector seemed pleased with the cigars Boris had gifted him with. Roberto had challenged him to a game of chess and had proven a decent opponent. Miguel, after two days of being in apparent awe of him, had overcome his nervousness to ask about his horses. Only Julia, Marisa's older sister continued to be distant with him.

She wasn't directly rude, and had he not caught the glares Marisa kept aiming at her, Boris might have mistaken it for reserve. He wasn't certain if it was normal protectiveness over her younger sibling, or something more personal. The latter explanation troubled him more than he'd like to admit, because he genuinely wanted to make a good impression on the Casseras. From everything Marisa had told him, they were a close family with the kind of rapport he envied. It was for this reason that the raised voices he heard as he moved toward the kitchen surprised him.

"-has been nothing but hospitable, and you have been nothing but judgmental." Boris froze at the sound of Marisa's heated voice. They were talking about him, hidden away in one of the last places he was likely to interrupt.

"I'm sorry if I'm not easily impressed by a big house and a fancy plane." Julia's acidic tone burned through any illusion Boris had about her standoffishness stemming from the more general kind of sibling disapproval.

"He opened his home to you and your son. He's spending his afternoon taking Miguel riding. The least you can do is be polite."

Boris struggled to think what he possibly could have done to offend the woman. Perhaps Marisa's family had been more upset about his missing Christmas than she told him. It wasn't as though Marisa had been able to tell them the true reason he'd been absent was that he'd been stranded in the Karakum desert. His failure to appear without even an excuse may well have counted against him.

"Especially considering his original plans for this weekend probably involved a lot more private time with Marisa and a lot less clothing."

"Roberto!" The additional two voices alerted Boris to the fact that this was no tête-à-tête, but a full Casseras family affair. An intervention of some sort perhaps? The question remained if it was for Julia or Marisa?

"What? I meant at the beach." The too innocent tone did not fool Boris. He couldn't decide if he was more annoyed at Marisa's brother's lewd (if accurate) assumption or grateful he had someone besides Marisa in his camp.

"Marisa and Roberto are right, Julia. Boris had been a generous host. You bring shame to yourself and your family with your behavior." Warmth spread through him at hearing Hector reprimand his eldest child. It was a comfort to know that the majority of the Casseras had taken his part.

He wondered if he should slip out before he was discovered. It may have been his home, but eavesdropping anywhere was poor manners. Besides there was no need to create unnecessary tension, especially not when everyone but Marisa was departing soon.

"Fine. Congratulations, Marisa on becoming a rich foreigner's mistress. One of them, at any rate."

Boris had been nearly out of the room when he heard the words that made him turn on his heel. To insult him was one thing, but he was not going to allow anyone to slight Marisa. Julia Ramerez would not stay one more minute in his home. She could wait outside in the hot sun for the plane. Only the fact that Miguel was with her prevented Boris from withdrawing his invitation to fly her back at all.

"Don't confuse Boris with your husband, Julia." Boris' hand hovered over the handle to the kitchen door. A philandering husband would somewhat explain Julia's attacks. It didn't excuse them, but it was enough to drain some of the stream off of Boris' outrage.

"Enough! Julia, nothing that I have seen of Marisa's boyfriend has been to his discredit. On the contrary, I have found him thoughtful, intelligent, and devoted to Marisa. Marisa, attacking your sister's marriage is beneath you, regardless of whether or not it was provoked. You are sisters and you will act like it."

Despite his fading anger, Boris couldn't help but feel a small spark of amusement at Hector's making two grown women apologize to one another like school children.

"Good. Now, it's about time for all of us to depart. Roberto, Julia, why don't you go pack?" For a tense moment Boris thought he would be uncovered but, to his relief, he heard footsteps heading away from him. They must have used the servant's staircase to avoid drawing attention to their family summit. Unsurprising given the nature of their conversation.

"Thank you, Papá."

"You have no need to thank me. He seems like a fine man, who has the good sense to adore you. How could I find fault with that? However, as your father, I do need to ask: Do you see a future with him?" Boris was frozen in place. Before he'd been eavesdropping on Marisa's family, which was one thing. Spying on Marisa herself was another.

"I love him." Boris knew the steel in that tone well. He heard it only when Marisa was at her most intractable. Boris had learnt not to press in those moments unless he was interested in an argument that would shake the walls.

"That is obvious in the way you look at him. But what about marriage? Children? Where will you live?" The questions made Boris feel slightly uneasy. Marriage was simple. There was nothing he wanted more than to have his name tied with Marisa's. To wear a band on his figure that told the world he belonged to Marisa and Marisa belonged to him. The other two however, he'd never really asked.

Boris wanted Marisa to defect. He based himself at Shadow Pond so he would be close to the world's best medical facilities when his illness began to progress. He knew it wasn't ideal, given they hosted the ribbon cutting ceremony on Marisa's research center less than a month ago. Still, he could easily afford to establish another facility in the United States for Marisa to continue her work. The major problem was the distance from her family and her home. After a lifetime of having them so near would she be willing to separate from them for his sake?

The children question threw him most of all. Marisa had never mentioned wanting to become a mother. She was good with her nephew, but that didn't mean she wanted a baby of her own. He'd always assumed, given her single-minded devotion to her career, that she'd planned to remain childless. That dovetailed perfectly with Boris' wishes. He would never inflict his family's disease on another soul. He would never raise a baby and force it to watch him waste away.

"It's complicated." Uneasiness was rapidly growing to a decided sense of dread. Why hadn't she answered her father? Was it simply that she didn't know how to explain her plans without being able to mention his illness? Or was it some other reason? Either way he was done listening at keyholes. He retreated to the main hall and flagged down one of the maids.

"Necesito zanahorias por favor." She bobbed her head once and sped off to the kitchens. Within a minute she had returned with a half dozen of the orange vegetables. Boris took them with a brief "Gracias."

Slowly he began to make his way back to the stables. At least Afortunada and Miguel would be happy. As for himself, he was no longer certain. Five months ago he'd been unable to stop himself from pursuing his feelings for Marisa. He'd never regretted that decision until this moment.

Boris thought they'd cleared all the obstacles from their path. He accepted his evitable death would be more painful, but he would take that trade to share his remaining good years with the woman he loved. Marisa had become involved with him knowing how very little time they would have together. She knew what she was committing to, or he thought she had. A new fear had entered his heart, that Marisa might want the one thing he couldn't give her. What would he do then? Be selfish and let her sacrifice even more for him? Or be strong and release her to find the life she deserved?