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My breath caught. I was encircled in Marco’s arms, and he gazed down at me.
“Wow. Mrs Marco DeAngelis,” he teased.
“Mr Beth Woodstock,” I teased back.
We laughed.
“I want you all to myself,” he said, and led me off the dancefloor.
Hand in hand, we went to a quiet corner of the garden, to a beautifully decorated swing adorned with fragrant roses. It had the perfect view.
With his arm wrapped possessively around me, we watched the other couples sway and twirl to the music, their laughter filling the air. Mom in her wheelchair and Bernie both dancing with a flirty pair of Marco’s brothers, and surprisingly another of his brothers slow-dancing with Maya Lakshmi, who it turned out I quite liked, and who Vittoria had introduced to all her single sons.
I was so happy to see Chiara dancing among her school friends, and Amara in the arms of her beloved papa. Vittoria was being expertly led around the dance floor by the ever-charming Sandro. And my girlfriends from the club were having a blast showing off their moves to their many admirers.
“Look at that girl,” I whispered. “She’s so sweet. Who is she?”
Sitting to one side, the shy one in a pair of gorgeous young ladies—identical twins—was eyeing Sandro up wistfully, her big eyes so dreamy and hopeful. Her more confident sister was living it up on the dance floor.
“One of the Morelli girls,” said Marco, shrugging. “She’s got no chance with Sandro. Too much history between their families. Her father has a vendetta against Sandro.”
I grimaced. “Like a real vendetta?”
“Unfortunately so. Sandro always was too hot-headed for his own good.”
I laughed at that. “Your mother would say the same about you.”
“That’s her father over there,” Marco said, pointing out a boorish looking man who was furiously watching his shy daughter gaze so dreamily at Sandro.
“It’s a pity,” I murmured. “I know that look in that poor girl’s eyes.”
I gazed at Marco lovingly, so glad the tempestuous heartache phase of our own story was behind us.
My heart filled with gratitude for everything I suddenly had and had never even dreamed of some months ago. How fast life suddenly spun out of control, for the good this time.
“What are you thinking?” Marco murmured, his eyes intense on my face.
I shook my head, unable to give words to all that I was feeling.
He put his hand in his pocket. Took out a tiny gorgeous pendant on a golden chain.
“I had this made for you,” he said huskily. “To thank you for saving me. Before you, I thought my life would be short. But now I have so much more than I ever thought I would have.”
“Me too,” I managed to choke out tearily. “So much more.”
He fastened it around my neck. Dangling on the fine chain was the very first floral bead I’d made, a tiny white daisy forever delicately suspended in glimmering dark resin. I had left it behind when I had fled his house after we broke up.
The knowledge that he had found it and kept it, treasured it even after we’d broken up, swelled my heart. It made it more precious to me than the finest diamond could ever be.
“I love you Marco.” I cupped his firm jaw in both hands, brushed my lips gently over his.
Feeling a flicker come to life in my belly, I gasped, my eyes widening.
“The baby!” I whispered, taking his hand and placing it there.
He beamed. “I can’t wait to feel her kicking.”
I chuckled. “You think we’ll have a girl?”
“Absolutely. With her mama’s eyes and her mama’s smile.”
“And her father’s devilish charm?”
“And her father’s love for her mama.” The tip of his nose tickled mine as he breathed me in. “Because, Beth, you are my everything.”
Tears came to my eyes. “And you’re mine.”
He kissed me, nibbling my lips gently, sending shivers of delight and anticipation down to my core.
And I knew this perfect moment, this feeling in my heart and soul, would never slip away. This feeling would last forever.
