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Her eyes were radiant, for she was looking back and recognizing how hard he had worked to win her trust and love. Sliding off the bed, she walked over to him and slid her hands up to his shoulders.
”When did you start really wanting to marry me’?’ ‘probably the moment you said no.’
His stunning gold eyes rested intently on her lovely face.
‘1 need to know you’re mine. 1 won’t feel safe until you’ve signed our marriage certificate in triplicate in two weeks’ time.’
”What if 1 asked you to sign a contract’?’
she teased.
His handsome dark head lowered, for he was mesmerised by the tantalizing smile on her soft pink mouth.
‘lt would depend on the terms.’
‘You have to love me as much as 1 love you.’
‘Do you love me’?’
Cristiano searched her eyes with wondering appreciation.
‘1 thought 1 still had to work on that angle.’
‘Actually, you didn’t have to work half as hard as you deserved. That teenage crush of mine worked in your favour.’
Lydia traced a high masculine cheekbone with loving appreciation, her fingers gentle.
‘1 told myself 1 hated you to protect myself from getting hurt again, and then 1 had to accept that 1 still loved you.’
‘1’ll never give you cause to regret it,’
Cristiano swore, with a raw sincerity that touched her to the heart.
He claimed her mouth in a long, drugging kiss. The instant physical contact was renewed, their overwhelming need to express their love in passion drove every other consideration from their minds.
The host and hostess did not reappear downstairs until dawn was high in the sky.
Eighteen months later, Lydia gave her daughter, Bella, a last tender kiss and tucked her in for the night. Bella was two months old and her dark blue eyes were drowsy.
Within minutes the gentle rocking of the cradle sent her to sleep. She was a very pretty baby, with black hair that lay like a silk cap on her pale skin, and a tiny serene face.
Standing with a glass of wine on the terrace an hour later, Lydia savoured the peace and the view across the Tuscan valley that now, more than any other place, felt like home to her.
Two weeks after their engagement party she and Cristiano had exchanged lings and vows in the little candlelit church on the hill. It had been very much a private affair, hushed up to keep the paparazzi at bay and attended by only a chosen few. Gwenna had been her only attendant. Jodie, who had ditched Philip Hazlett, had attended with her latest boyfriend. Lydia had worn fluid white silk georgette, and the Andreotti diamond tiara had come out of the bank vault for the occasion. A single photo of the bride and groom on the church steps had been released to the press. The happy couple had spent their honeymoon on a private island in G
reece, enjoying the feeling that they were getting back to nature while actually living in the lap of luxury.
The period since then had been one of great happiness for Lydia. In six weeks Gwenna was getting married to the businessman she had met at the engagement party.
Cristiano had endowed the Happy Holidays charity with a house in Cornwall, and the funds to keep it running for the children. Lydia had presided over the official opening and had done sufficient fundraising to have long since forgotten her former embarrassment around the staff.
Of course there had been one or two more trying moments in their lives as well. In that category Lydia included Virginia’s frantic appeal for the name of a good lawyer after she and Dennis were arrested by the French police and held in custody for dubious property deals. Everything the couple possessed had since been seized, and a prison sentence for them both looked unavoidable.
Cristiano had made one or two pithy comments about justice being done.
There had also been the time that Lydia had snatched Cristiano’s mobile phone from him and chucked it in the sea. She had got away with that because it had been the same day that he’d managed to persuade her to paddle in the surf. Since then she had reached the stage where she could fool about in the shallow end of a pool without suffering a panic attack, and she had been on Lestara twice for brief cruises. Bit by bit she was overcoming her fear, but she couldn’t have come so far without Cristiano’s support and patience.
A warm smile curved Lydia’s lips when she heard the distant chop-chop of the helicopter approaching. It was Cristiano, flying back from a meeting in London. She heard his steps ringing across the tiled hall inside the house and her heartbeat picked up pace the way it always did when he was near.
When he appeared on the terrace, she flung herself into his arms without hesitation. Releasing a hungry groan, he held her to him and kissed her breathless.
alt’s so uncool when we do this. Our friends would be shocked. No wonder we don’t entertain much.’ Closing a lean hand over hers, Cristiano took a long, appreciative look at her.
‘How’s Bella’?’
‘Fast asleep.’
‘1 guarantee she won’t be at three in the morning,’ her father forecasted.
‘Knowing that, I came home with all possible haste. We can have an early night and still be fresh for our darling daughter when she wakes up in the middle of the night.’
‘But it’s only eight o’clock.’
A provocative smile slashed his lean dark features.
‘1 know.’
She burst out laughing.
‘London was a desert without you,’
Cristiano confided.
‘Every time 1 have to leave you 1 find out all over again how much 1 love you, gioia mia.’
Happiness lighting her face, Lydia glowed beneath the tender look in his stunning eyes. As she settled back into his arms she had not a care in the world-for she had found her place…
