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‘Say that with meaning, Tara.’ There was a note of laughter in his voice as he moved to lie on top of her. ‘And perhaps we will.’
Within minutes she was gasping out his name as he drove into her and he was kissing away the sounds of her helpless little cries as she came. But even though a deep lethargy crept over her afterwards, Tara forced herself to wriggle out from beneath Lucas’s hard, honed flesh and head for the en-suite bathroom, because they had a whole delicious evening ahead of them. Quickly, she showered and, when Lucas took her place to stand beneath the powering jets, she returned to the bedroom to slither into a silky black jersey dress and matching pumps, before creeping along the corridor to where Declan was fast asleep, in a cot beside his bigger cousin, Luis.
For a moment she just stood there, gazing down at the dark heads of the two sleeping babes, and a great wave of love and contentment swelled up inside her. They were so lucky, she thought, with a sudden twist of her heart. So very lucky. All of them.
She and Lucas had been married in Dublin just before the birth of their beloved son, Declan. Her friend Stella had been bridesmaid and the celebrations had been memorable for many reasons, not least because Stella had rebuffed the advances of the Italian billionaire Salvatore di Luca, which was pretty much unheard of. And the guest of honour had been Brett Henderson—the actor who had caused Lucas to be so jealous in New York—who had offered to sing a song at their wedding, about love changing everything.
‘He’s clearly still smitten,’ Lucas had grumbled, when she’d excitedly shown him the email.
‘Rubbish,’ Tara had disagreed. ‘I think he just likes a woman with an Irish accent—in which case he’ll have plenty to choose from at the reception! Our friends will never forgive us if we say no, Lucas. And besides, nobody could disagree with the sentiments of the song he’s planning to sing, could they?’
And Lucas had no answer to that.
Their honeymoon had been postponed until Declan was six months old, when they went on an extended stay with Alej, Emily and Luis at their beautiful Argentinian estancia. The two women had hit it off immediately and it had warmed Tara’s heart to see Lucas bonding with the brother he was quickly getting to know. Her husband was learning about the land of his birth, too, and had changed his name back to his birth name—not the one he’d seen written above a pub on the very first night he’d arrived in Dublin, completely alone. As Lucas Sabato he was building a mother-and-baby unit outside Buenos Aires, to support women and children who had fallen on hard times. Tara swallowed. To help prevent another helpless baby being given up because his mother couldn’t afford to feed him...
And tonight they would eat outside beneath the stars with Emily and Alej and count every single one of their blessings.
She heard soft footsteps behind her and felt the whisper of Lucas’s lips against her neck. His arm snaked around her waist and for a moment the two of them were silent as they stood looking down at their son.
‘It’s crazy,’ said Lucas softly.
‘What is?’
He shrugged. ‘How I’ve gone from being a man with nothing to a man who has everything.’
She turned to look at him, an expression of bemusement on her face. ‘Some people wouldn’t describe a relatively young billionaire as a man with nothing.’
He shook his head. ‘All the money in the world doesn’t come close to the way I feel
when I look at you, and Declan. Because you have given me all that is properly precious. You gave me courage to seek out my family and doing that has enriched my life. You have given me a beautiful son. But most of all, you’ve given me your love and that is priceless.’ He tilted her chin, his voice a little unsteady. ‘You are my everything, Tara Sabato, do you realise that?’
He had taken her breath away with his soft words and Tara had to dab furiously at her eyes to stop her mascara running. ‘And you are my everything,’ she answered fiercely. ‘For the first time in my life I feel as if I have a real home and that you and Declan are the beating heart of that home. And I love you. I love you so much. You do know that, don’t you, Lucas?’
Tenderly, Lucas stared down into the amber gleam of her eyes. The woman he admired more than any other. Who was strong and smart and brave and beautiful. His equal. His wife. His love. ‘Do I know that?’ He smiled as he wiped a mascara-coloured teardrop away from her freckled cheek. ‘You betcha.’
* * * * *
