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‘As well as styling our wedding in New York—with your approval, of course!—she’s already planning Rico’s christening in Rome!’ He’d looked at her. ‘Do you think your mother could find time in her schedule to fly to Italy for it?’
‘Of course she will!’ Eloise had assured him. ‘We may be Rico’s proxies for the shares, but she’ll want to ensure he grows up knowing it was his non-doting grandmother who got them for him!’
‘Well, my mother will do double doting, I promise you that!’ Vito had laughed again. ‘We’ll have to make sure she doesn’t spoil him.’
Eloise’s eyes had softened. ‘She can spoil him all she likes,’ she’d said. Her eyes had shadowed. ‘My only regret is that Rico will have no grandfathers to do likewise.’
‘Yes,’ he’d said, sadness in his voice. ‘In my father he would have had the best grandfather a boy could dream of!’ His expression had changed. ‘Is there no chance your father might—?’
Eloise had shaken her head, her mouth tight. ‘No. If in years to come Rico wants to make contact with his half-cousins, then I will support him in that. But for me...’ She’d looked away. ‘I won’t risk it, Vito. And I don’t want it either. He made his choice. He didn’t choose me. Not even to stay in touch and send birthday cards. So I won’t choose him either.’
She had touched his cheek, her eyes searching. ‘Not everything in life is perfect, Vito. You and I both know that—we each have our own deep sorrows. But—’ she’d taken a reviving breath ‘—we also have more than our share of joys!’
He’d kissed her then, in agreement, in reassurance, in love, and now she lay within the cradle of his arms, here on this beautiful tropical island where they would later come back for their real honeymoon, their bodies sated after their desire for each other—a desire that would endure for ever...even through her barrage balloon phase.
Eloise grinned to herself. She knew, without any doubt at all that the greatest joy of all was their love for each other, and for the child waiting to be born into that love.
* * *
The sonorous music swelled, lifting upwards to one last crescendo before falling silent. The hushed murmurings of the congregation stilled as the priest raised his hands and began to speak the words of the ancient sacrament in the age-old ceremony.
Inside his breast Vito could feel his heart beating strongly. Emotion filled him—and he turned his head towards the woman now standing at his side.
Gowned in ivory, her face veiled, his bride waited for him. Waited for him to say the words that would unite them in marriage...join him in marriage to the woman he loved more than life itself.
To Eloise, his beloved bride...
* * * * *
EXCLUSIVE EXTRACT
Reluctant Sheikh Salim Al-Noury would rather abdicate than taint the realm with his dark secrets.
But could one exquisitely beautiful diplomat convince him otherwise?…
Christmas means heartbreak to Charlotte, and this overseas assignment offers the perfect getaway. But Salim proves to be her most challenging client yet, and his rugged masculinity awakens untouched Charlotte to unimaginable pleasures!
Read on for a sneak preview of Abby Green’s book
A CHRISTMAS BRIDE FOR THE KING
Rulers of the Desert
She looked Salim straight in the eye. ‘Life is so easy for you, isn’t it? No wonder you don’t want to rule—it would put a serious cramp in your lifestyle and a dent in your empire. Have you ever had to think of anyone but yourself, Salim? Have you ever had to consider the consequences of your actions? People like you make me—’
‘Enough.’ Salim punctuated the harshly spoken word by taking her arms in his hands. He said it again. ‘Enough, Charlotte. You’ve made your point.’
She couldn’t breathe after the way he’d just said her name. Roughly. His hands were huge on her arms, and firm but not painful. She knew she should say Let me go but somehow the words wouldn’t form in her mouth.
Salim’s eyes were blazing down into hers and for a second she had the impression that she’d somehow…hurt him. But in the next instant any coherent thought fled, because he slammed his mouth down onto hers and all she was aware of was shocking heat, strength, and a surge of need such as she’d never experienced before.
Salim couldn’t recall when he’d felt angrier—people had thrown all sorts of insults at him for years. Women who’d expected more than he’d been prepared to give. Business adversaries he’d bested. His brother. His parents. But for some reason this buttoned-up slender woman with her cool judgmental attitude was getting to him like no one else ever had.
The urge to kiss her had been born out of that anger and a need to stop her words, but also because he’d felt a hot throb of desire that had eluded him for so long he’d almost forgo
tten what it felt like.
Her mouth was soft and pliant under his, but on some dim level not clouded red with lust and anger he knew it was shock—and, sure enough, after a couple of seconds he felt her tense and her mouth tighten against his.
