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“Time for a toast,” Lucas said, raising his glass.
Damian looked at him and grinned. They both knew exactly how the old toast was supposed to go, but not tonight.
Not ever again, where Nicolo was concerned.
“To Nicolo,” Lucas said.
The men touched glasses.
“And to Aimee,” Damian added. “May they live happily ever after.”
The guests cheered, and the sound carried through the softness of the night and through the open windows of the second-floor bedroom where Nicolo was just putting his bride on her feet.
“I love you,” he whispered against her mouth.
“Ti amo,” she said, against his.
Then he drew her down into their bed where they made that vow of love again, this time with their bodies, their souls and their hearts.
The Greek Prince’s Chosen Wife
CONTENTS
CHAPTER ONE
CHAPTER TWO
CHAPTER THREE
CHAPTER FOUR
CHAPTER FIVE
CHAPTER SIX
CHAPTER SEVEN
CHAPTER EIGHT
CHAPTER NINE
CHAPTER TEN
CHAPTER ELEVEN
CHAPTER TWELVE
CHAPTER ONE
DAMIAN was getting out of a taxi the first time he saw her.
He was in a black mood, something he’d grown accustomed to the last three months, a mood so dark he’d stopped noticing anything that even hinted at beauty.
But a man would have to be dead not to notice this woman.
Stunning, was his first thought. What he could see of her, anyway. Black wraparound sunglasses covered much of her face but her mouth was lusciously full with enough sexual promise to make a monk think of quitting the cloister.
Her hair was long. Silky-looking. A dichromatic mix of chestnut and gold that fell over her shoulders in a careless tumble.
