heart belongs to you too and it always will.’ She laughed, then planted the most enormous kiss she could muster on his welcoming mouth. ‘Shall we go inside now?’
‘Yes. Let’s go and make some Mantegna-Ricci babies.’
And they did.
‘YOU’RE GOING to be late,’ Lisbeth squealed the second Elena stepped into the hotel bedroom. Lisbeth was already dressed in her mint bridesmaid dress.
‘No, I’m not.’
Malin stuck her head out of the bathroom. ‘You’re here. Thank God. Your ex-husband has been driving us crazy.’
‘He knew I was on my way back.’
‘You didn’t speak to him?’ Lisbeth demanded. ‘That’s bad luck.’
‘I’m sure it’s only seeing them before the wedding that’s bad luck.’ Elena hid a grin. She swore her Swedish cousins had sucked all the nerves out of her and channelled them into themselves.
She herself had only felt mild anxiety at her journey taking an hour longer than anticipated. There was plenty of time. Besides, Gabriele would wait for her. He would always wait.
There was a bang on the door.
‘Stay there,’ Lisbeth hissed. ‘It’s probably your ex-husband.’ She tugged the door open a fraction.
‘Is she back?’ came Gabriele’s voice.
‘Yes, she’s here. Now go away. You can’t see her.’
‘How was her father?’
‘He was good,’ Elena called, ignoring the glares from her cousins. ‘He’s holding up well. Now go before Lisbeth and Malin spontaneously combust.’
She’d left before breakfast to visit her father at the prison he was being held at as he awaited sentencing. She couldn’t get married without seeing him first. It had lifted her heart to hear him give them his blessing.
She visited him whenever she could. It would be easier after sentencing as he’d be transferred to a prison in Italy, so she’d be able to visit much more regularly.
He liked her visits. While she would never be able to forgive him for what he’d done to Gabriele and his family, she still loved him and he loved her. He must have taken a lesson in selflessness from her ex-husband as he’d completely exonerated her brothers from any blame. Unfortunately he hadn’t been able to save them from financial ruin. That they still had roofs over their heads was entirely down to Gabriele.
Gabriele chuckled from the other side of the door. ‘I’ll see you in a couple of hours.’
A couple of hours?
From feeling as if she had all the time in the world, she suddenly saw the time with the same eyes as her panicking cousins.
In a flurry, she got herself into gear.
After she’d had a quick shower, Lisbeth and Malin got to work.
Her hair was dried and styled, her face made up and then it was time to get her into her dress.
When she was done she truly felt like a bride.
Her ivory dress, which hugged her figure, had a five-foot train. It sparkled and shimmered under the light. She could feel the rest of her shimmering with it.
The Somerset County church they were marrying in shimmered too, the autumn sunshine bouncing light off its white walls.
This was it. This was her wedding day. This was the day she committed the rest of her life to the man she loved.
With Aunt Agnes on her arm to walk her down the aisle and her cousins behind her, Elena took the first step towards Gabriele, her ex-husband and, any moment now, to be her husband for ever.
He stood at the front in his black tuxedo and did nothing but gaze at her adoringly as she walked towards him.
Elena beamed hugely to see his mother sitting beside Loretta in the family seats. It had been touch and go whether she would make it—it could only be feasible if she was having a good day—but they had decided to take the risk of marrying in Somerset County in the hope she would be well enough,
The gamble had paid off.
Finally they exchanged their vows and Gabriele was sliding a gold band onto her finger with their names and the date engraved on it so it rested above the diamond engagement ring he’d given her the day after they’d embraced the love they had.
And then they were pronounced man and wife. Gabriele and Elena Mantegna-Ricci.
The little life growing in her belly would get the best of them both.
* * * * *
Caitlin Crews
“I MUST BE HALLUCINATING. And may God have mercy on you if I am not.”
Paige Fielding hadn’t heard that voice in ten years. It wrapped around her even as it sliced through her, making the breezy Southern California afternoon fade away. Making the email she’d been writing disappear from her mind in full. Making her forget what year it was, what day it was. Rocketing her right back into the murky, painful past.
That voice. His voice.
Uncompromisingly male. As imperious as it was incredulous. The faint hint of sex and Italy in his voice even with all that temper besides, and it rolled over Paige like a flattening heat. It pressed into her from behind, making her want to squirm in her seat. Or simply melt where she sat. Or come apart—easily and instantly—the way she always had at the sound of it.
She swiveled around in her chair in instant, unconscious obedience, knowing exactly who she’d see in the archway that led into the sprawling Bel Air mansion high in the Hollywood Hills called La Bellissima in honor of its famous owner, the screen legend Violet Sutherlin. She knew who it was, and still, something like a premonition washed over her and made her skin prickle in the scant seconds before her gaze found him there in the arched, open door, scowling at her with what looked like a healthy mix of contempt and pure, electric hatred.
Giancarlo Alessi. The only man she’d ever loved with every inch of her doomed and naive heart, however little good that had done either one of them. The only man who’d made her scream and sob and beg for more, until she was hoarse and mute with longing. The only man who still haunted her, and who she suspected always would, despite everything.
Because he was also the only man she’d ever betrayed. Thoroughly. Indisputably. Her
