be too difficult for Angus to get away at such short notice. This, at least, was partly true. His job as gamekeeper on the Craigmore estate did make it very difficult for him to take any time off. The fact that he had absolutely no idea that his daughter was actually getting married, she kept to herself.
And now the day of their wedding had arrived. Gazing out of the window at the sparkling sunshine, Harper tried to swallow down the nerves inside her. These were not the normal jitters a bride might feel on her big day, those of anticipation and excitement. No, Harper’s nerves were of the more sinister kind, sitting like a leaden weight in her stomach.
Never had she imagined her wedding day would be like this—that she would be facing it so completely alone, without even Leah by her side. Vieri had offered to pay her flight, insisting that her being here wouldn’t be a problem for him, that whatever had gone on between them was all in the past. But Harper had declined. She had no intention of even telling Leah that she was marrying Vieri. What was the point? It wasn’t real. In a few months the marriage would be annulled and it would be as if it had never happened. And besides, if she told Leah it would be all round Glenruie before you could say capercaillie. Leah couldn’t keep a secret to save her life.
Taking her dress from the wardrobe, Harper unzipped it from its garment bag and laid it over her arm. It was made of fine cream silk, with a loose cowl neck and a low back. This was the first time she had actually held it in her hands, and she was taken aback by just how lovely it was.
She had bought it online, having no intention of going to any of the bridal boutiques in Palermo and running into another of Vieri’s admirers. Instead she had chosen it from the vast array of wedding dresses available, rapidly scrolling through them, refusing to spend too much time deliberating over the seductive creations because what did it matter what she looked like anyway? It wasn’t as if she had a lover waiting for her at the altar, desperate to see his beautiful bride. Vieri would probably barely even notice what she was wearing.
Taking off her robe, she slipped the dress over her head. It slithered down over her body, pooling in a perfect circle at her feet. It was almost laughable the way it was such a perfect fit, as if it had been made for her. The slippery silk encased her slender body, showcasing her bare arms, her décolletage, the gentle swell of her hips, her long legs. Allowing herself only the briefest of glances in the mirror, she sat herself down at the dressing table and set about taming her curls into some sort of order, sweeping them up into a loose chignon. She would do this, she would put on some make-up, then she would make her way to the chapel and she would marry Vieri Romano. What she wouldn’t do was think. Because thinking about what she was doing had the capacity to break her heart.
* * *
‘This is all very sudden, mio amico.’
Vieri glanced across at his oldest friend. He and Jaco had been raised together in the children’s home but, unlike him, Jaco had been adopted at the age of eleven and whisked away to a shiny new life. At the time they had pretty much lost touch, but years later, when Jaco was living in New York, they had renewed their acquaintance. By then they were both highly successful businessmen and both enjoying the playboy lifestyle. Standing well over six feet tall but having lost none of his boyish charm, Jaco had rivalled Vieri for the affections of the city’s most beautiful women, or so he liked to keep telling him. But there was no doubting that the two of them had been a formidable force when they had hit the town together.
‘Well, you know how it is, Jac.’ Deliberately vague, Vieri shifted his weight from one leg to the other, checking his watch again.
The two men were standing beside the altar of the chapel, waiting for the bride to appear. The small congregation was chattering amongst themselves, the priest bending down to talk to Alfonso, who had had his wheelchair positioned right at the front so that he would miss nothing.
‘I’m not sure I do.’ Jaco gave his friend a sideways glance. ‘I thought we had both agreed that the whole marriage thing wasn’t for us.’
‘Well, yes.’ Vieri tugged at the sleeve of his shirt. ‘But things change, don’t they?’
‘And would this sudden change be anything to do with your godfather?’ Jaco narrowed his eyes. ‘I understand he doesn’t have a lot longer on this earth.’
‘I want to make him happy, Jac. It’s the least I can do.’
‘Even so, getting married... Isn’t that a bit extreme?’
Vieri shrugged and Jaco followed his gaze in the direction of Alfonso, who looked up and gave them a beaming smile.
‘There’s your answer.’ Vieri returned his eyes to the front. ‘That look has got to be worth a bit of self-sacrifice.’
‘If you say so, old friend.’ Jaco patted Vieri on the shoulder. ‘If you say so.’
With a low rumble and a couple of hollow squeaks, the organ music started up and the congregation fell silent. Moving into position in front of the altar, Vieri stood tall and straight, pushing back his shoulders, gazing up at the arched stained-glass window. As the slightly wheezy strains of Vivaldi’s Primavera filled the intimate but echoing space he found himself saying a silent prayer, asking for guidance, or absolution, or at least some sort of indication that he really was doing the right thing. For suddenly this wedding felt terrifyingly real.
A sharp dig in the ribs from his friend interrupted his thoughts. ‘Self-sacrifice, eh?’ With a low laugh, Jaco, who had been looking over his shoulder, returned to face the front. ‘I’m not sure that’s what I’d call it. She’s a stunner Vieri.’
But Vieri had no time to reply. With a swish of silk Harper had come to stand beside him and finally he turned to look at her, only for the breath to be sucked from his lungs. Because she looked exquisite. The simple dress sheathed her gentle curves and slithered to the floor. She carried a small bouquet of white gardenia, with a single bloom tucked into her hair behind one ear, and as he stared at her a shaft of coloured light flickered over her face and down her body, giving her an ethereal, almost other-worldly appearance.
Vieri forced himself to drag in some air. He had never expected this, to have such a visceral reaction to his bride, so strong that it threatened to undo him completely. He told himself that it had to be guilt, for what he was making her do, what he was putting her through. But the way his mind was already slipping the silky garment down her body, his fingers itching to explore the exposed skin beneath, had nothing to do with guilt. Neither did the inexplicable surge of emotion that had suddenly consumed him, coming out of nowhere, so strong that it burned behind his eyes, held his muscles taut. It was a wave of tenderness, of possessiveness. The feeling, no, the certainty that Harper would be his and his alone. From this day forth.
They held each other’s gaze and for a split second Vieri saw all the torment and confusion he was experiencing reflected in Harper’s remarkable hazel eyes. And the desire. Yes, she felt it too, no matter how much she might try and deny it. That, at least, gave salve to his masculine pride.
The priest gave a small cough, opening the heavy bible in his hands, preparing to start the ceremony. But he had barely uttered more than a few words from the opening address before the door at the rear of the chapel squeaked open, then closed again, followed by footsteps hastening down the aisle that defied all but the most stoic not to turn and see who this latecomer might be.
‘Sorry, sorry.’ There was no mistaking that accent or who it belonged to as the apologies continued and the guests shuffled along to make room for her at the end of a pew.
‘Leah!’ Harper had turned to look at her sister, whispering
