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‘No, that’s far too soon,’ she told him firmly.
‘Well, if I had my choice it would be tomorrow,’ Lorenzo admitted unrepentantly.
‘Could we get married in Italy?’ she asked wistfully. ‘I’d love that.’
Lorenzo smiled. ‘I think that could be arranged and still give you time to find a beautiful white dress.’
‘I can’t wear white. I’m pregnant!’ Milly gasped with a wince.
‘That’s an old-fashioned concept,’ Lorenzo overruled. ‘You deserve to wear white and if I have anything to do with the decision, you will.’
Milly lifted her nose, knowing how bossy he was, resolved not to let him have anything to do with that decision. ‘We’ll see.’
‘Is that you placating me?’ Lorenzo asked suspiciously.
‘Possibly.’ Milly looked up at him, her whole face wreathed with happiness. ‘I love you. I can’t think of anything else right now.’
His dark eyes shimmered pure gold. ‘Why should you think of anything else? I love you too, more than I ever thought I could love anyone,bellezza mia.’
Milly slipped into a dreamy sleep. Lorenzo lay awake planning the wedding and Topsy, suspecting that she wouldn’t be welcomed into her usual spot in the bed, went for a nap underneath it.
Two months later, Milly adjusted her short veil and looked in the cheval mirror with a wide contented smile.
Her dress was a dream. Sheer lace encased her arms while a Bardot neckline exposed her shoulders and the fitted lace bodice drew attention away from the swell of her pregnant stomach, the tulle and organza layered skirt tumbling softly to the floor. Milly hadn’t needed to hide her bump to feel presentable. She was proud to be carrying her little girl. It was only a few weeks since they had learned that they were to have a daughter and they both liked the name Liona. While Lorenzo was hopeful that Liona would inherit her mother’s colouring, Milly was hopeful that she would inherit her father’s.
Clutching her beautiful bouquet of wildflowers, she stepped into the car that would whisk her up the hill to the village church where they would take their vows. Lorenzo’s senior lawyer had offered to lead her into the church and down the aisle. As they had become well acquainted during the proceedings that had established her sister’s death and her own survival, she had laughed and agreed, especially after he had unbent sufficiently to admit that they had been taking bets in the office about how long it would take Lorenzo to admit that he had fallen madly in love.
Her eyes were intent only on Lorenzo when she entered the crowded church. A large number of Lorenzo’s friends had chosen to accept their invitations and fly out for an autumn weekend in Tuscany. Many of them had already met her because once she had moved back in with Lorenzo he had begun entertaining again for the first time in several years. Initially her resemblance to Brooke had unsettled people, but once they had got talking to her and realised how friendly and unassuming she was that unease had melted away. In fact, for the first time ever, now settled and secure and confident in the happiness she had found, Milly was making friends.
Sunlight slanted through the stained-glass windows of the chapel, illuminating the man at the altar, who was very tall beside the small, rounded priest. His hair gleamed blue black in strong light, his eyes gilded to gold in his lean dark face and he was smiling at his bride and she grinned back, barely able now to dredge up the recollection of the forbidding, reserved and very serious man he had once appeared to be. He covered her hand with his. ‘You look radiant,’ he told her proudly.
And the ceremony began, short and sweet and with no flourishes, because neither of them needed anything fancier than the love they had for each other and the child that was on the way to make them into a family. A slender platinum ring was slid onto her finger and then one to his. Lorenzo kissed his bride without a second’s hesitation, and they walked out into the sunlight smiling and united.
The reception was held in the village hall where the earlier civil ceremony had taken place. It was merry and fun-filled and utterly informal, very much in the bride’s style. Lorenzo had bought a yacht, an uncharacteristic act of conspicuous consumption that had attracted a lot of flak from his colleagues, and in a day or two they planned to cruise the Caribbean for their honeymoon. That first night of their marriage, though, they returned to the peaceful farmhouse in the hills and ate by candlelight on the terrace with the stars twinkling above them before retiring for the night.
‘Happy now?’ she teased him as he helped unhook her from her dress.
Lorenzo spread the parted edges of the dress back and kissed a trail across her smooth pale shoulders. ‘Yes, now you’re officially mine. I feel safer being happy.’
‘Nobody’s going to take our happiness away from us,’ she soothed, spinning round as the gown dipped dangerously low over her full breasts to fall to her waist as she slowly extracted her arms from the tight lace sleeves. ‘We worked hard for it, and you earned it every week that you watched over me when I was in a coma.’
‘I still don’t deserve you,’ Lorenzo breathed gruffly, trying without success to drag his attention from her truly magnificent cleavage.
Milly let the dress fall to her feet and stepped out of it. ‘Yes, you do. You deserve your happy ending just like everyone else. And I’m going to be it.’
‘No complaints here.’ Lorenzo laughed, lifting her gently to set her down on the bed, stroking the firm mound of her stomach with a possessive hand. ‘Are you tired?’
‘More elated now that we’ve finally got here, where we wanted to be,’ she confided quietly. ‘It was a glorious day, exactly what I dreamt of.’
‘I wanted it to be really special for you,bellezza mia,’ Lorenzo confided.
‘Believe me, it was,’ Milly assured him, running her fingertips lazily through his luxuriant black hair, a shiver of sensual awareness quivering through her as his stubbled jaw rubbed across her nape. ‘Oh, dothatagain,’ she urged helplessly.
Her unashamed enthusiasm made Lorenzo laugh. ‘I love you to pieces, Milly.’
‘I love you too...’
‘And that little girl you’re giving us will be as special as you are,’ he told her.
And Lionawas, coming into the world with all her mother’s zest for life.
Two years later, she was followed by Pietro, as dark in colouring as his sister was fair, and rather more serious in nature.
Four years beyond that, when their parents naively thought their family was complete, fate surprised them with Cara, blonde with dark eyes, a little elf of a child with a mischievous smile. And together they were the family that both Lorenzo and Milly had always dreamt of having.
