by Ella Hayes
Her serious tone threw him for a moment and then he saw in her eyes what she was saying. He lifted a hand to her face, traced his thumb over her cheekbone. ‘No, I did it for myself because music is what I love, and I did it for you because you asked me to be true to myself.’
She leaned in to his hand, smiled softly. ‘That’s the right answer.’
He gazed at her, saw the love light in her eyes mingling with the flickering flames of a thousand tea lights, and he knew that this was the right moment. ‘Liv, I know we haven’t known each other that long, but from the first moment I saw you I felt a connection.’ He smiled. ‘I know things haven’t been easy but I think we’ve got potential, don’t you?’
‘Potential?’
‘I want you to stay... I want you to help me hang my pictures, I want you to teach Alessia more silly songs, and I want to play my guitar for you every night.’ A tear was rolling down her cheek. He followed it with his thumb, gently pushed it away. ‘I love you. I want you to marry me... Will you marry me, Olivia?’
Her eyes were glistening now...and she was pressing her lips together, and then a little smile broke through and she was laughing and crying... ‘Yes, yes, I will.’
He felt a wave of relief followed by a wave of euphoria. He pulled her into his arms, swung her around and laughed. ‘You’ve really got to stop crying now because I want to kiss you.’
CHAPTER ELEVEN
Eight months later...
‘STEP AWAY FROM the window, darling—the light’s too harsh.’
‘I told you it would be—it always works best over there, near the wardrobe.’
Ralph lowered his camera and mock-scowled. ‘And so the pupil becomes the master!’
‘You were a good teacher.’ She spun round, took up position in front of the large mahogany wardrobe and struck a pose. ‘Thanks for stepping up, Ralph. I’m no good on this side of the camera and if I have to go through it I’d rather go through it with you than anyone else.’ She looked down at the bouquet in her hands then looked up and smiled.
‘Keep it! Don’t move, darling—you look amazing.’
She laughed. ‘I know for a fact you say that to all your brides.’
‘Ah! But today I mean it. You do look amazing—but you need to stop talking so we can get the job done.’
She smiled, turned this way and that, lifted her chin, dropped her shoulder, perched on the bed, looked lovingly into the lens, laughed over and over again, mostly for real because it felt weird.
He put the camera down, glanced at his watch and wiped his forehead on his shirt sleeve. ‘Where’s your father?’
‘He’s on his way.’ She put a hand on his arm. ‘Ralph, I want you to relax. It’s a very informal wedding—just take happy pictures, okay. They don’t need to be perfect.’
A knock on the door made her jump.
Ralph lifted an eyebrow. ‘It looks like you need to take your own advice!’
She couldn’t deny that she was jittery. If she wasn’t such a bag of nerves she’d have been laughing at herself. All those years dreaming of this day, and now all she wanted was to skip to the part where Zach was beside her, holding her hand. She crossed the room and opened the door.
‘Dad!’
He seemed to sway a bit at the sight of her and then she could see a tell-tale glisten at the edge of his eyes, could feel her own welling up.
‘Oh, Liv...’ His mouth was wobbling. ‘You look—’
She swallowed hard, flowed into his arms. ‘Dad, will you stop it—you’re setting me off.’ He was holding her in his big bear hug and even the new fabric smell of his wedding day suit couldn’t mask the comforting scent of him that she remembered from childhood, from all the times he’d held her like this before. She closed her eyes, let the moment linger...
After the dust had settled from Zach’s proposal and after she’d completed her last wedding shoot, she’d gone back to England to tell her mum and dad she was getting married. She’d spent time with her mum in Sussex, then stayed for a week with her dad in North Wales.
Mending their fences had been easier than she imagined. They’d talked about the past, but mostly they’d got on with living in the present. He’d taken her swimming in another freezing sea, and afterwards there’d been hot chocolate out of a dented old flask. He’d marched her to the top of Mount Snowdon and back down again. In the pub he’d got steamed up about plastic pollution and global warming, talked about petitions and about what was going on in the Green Party and she’d listened, felt his passion and fury, potent as ever.
Suddenly she became aware of Ralph clicking away and she stepped out of her dad’s arms, but he kept a hold of her shoulders, looked at her with a little glimmer of inkling in his eyes. ‘You’re glowing, Liv,’ and then he beamed, dropped his hands and rifled in his pockets for a handkerchief.
She felt a little colour rising in her cheeks, glanced at Ralph, but he was busy positioning her bouquet on a table near the window so he could take a picture of it. ‘It’s my wedding day, Dad—of course I’m glowing. I’m happy!’ She smoothed the front of her dress, cleared her throat. ‘Now, are you absolutely sure about walking me up the aisle? I know it’s not really your bag.’
‘It’s what you want that counts.’ He mopped his eyes and smiled. ‘It’s your day, and I’m here for you... I’ll always be here for you.’
She could feel a lump thickening in her throat, laughed as she snatched a tissue from a box on the table. ‘You’re going to have to stop saying things like that or I’ll have to get the make-up artist to come back.’
The door rattled, opened jerkily and Alessia’s face appeared in the gap. Her little mouth stiffened for a moment, eyes widened, and then she ran over, wrapped her arms around Olivia’s legs.
‘You look so pretty!’
‘And so do you! Very pretty. Has Daddy seen you in your dress yet?’
Alessia shook her head, spoke in a theatrical whisper. ‘No! Nonna said it had to be a surprise.’
Olivia laughed, bent down to kiss her. As she felt Alessia’s arms sliding around her neck she thought about Izzy, how she had never felt her own daughter’s embrace, and she closed her eyes to let the sadness wash over her and subside. It was strange, she thought, how much she’d opened her heart and mind to Izzy after Zach had made his grand gesture, after he’d asked her to marry him. The house had settled into being a home, no more east and west.
Absently, she started pulling out the skirt of Alessia’s dress, the pale lemon silk rustling in her fingers. She’d found little soft shoes to match and Alessia had declared that they were dancing shoes. Now Alessia was busy pointing her toes, sketching out a little dance on the spot as Olivia fanned out the skirt and pulled the petticoats straight. The hairstylist had woven the same little yellow flowers and Gypsophila into Alessia’s hair that she was wearing in her own and the final result was perfect. Zach was going to be even more smitten with his daughter than he already was.
Zach! The love of her life. Just the thought of him was enough to make her heart leap with joy. She pictured his face, the way the little lines around his eyes crinkled when he smiled, the blue of his irises sparkling like sunlight and starlight mixed together.
He and Marcello had done so well with the bar. They’d commissioned Milo to design and put in a mezzanine, and they’d added a few other refinements: a new canopy for the entrance, adjustable lighting. They’d rebranded the place, called it Pavane, which had made her smile. She’d taken the photographs, built a website, while they focused on forward-booking a succession of guest musicians. The official launch had been a nerve-racking success and Zach had been walking on air ever since...
Suddenly she realised that Alessia had stopped dancing and was staring at her. She smiled, checked the sash at the back of Alessia’s dress and stood up.
Ralph had her bouquet in his hands, passed it to her. �
��Right, you two, let’s grab some pictures and then it’ll be show time.’
* * *
‘Today, Olivia, I join my life to yours, not only as your husband but as your friend, your lover and your confidant...’ His voice was clear, self-assured. She could feel the warmth of his hands around hers, the warmth of the spring sunshine on her back, and in his eyes she could see so many things—love, trust, honesty. Desire. ‘I want to be the shoulder you lean on, the rock on which you rest, the companion of your life.’ She watched his lips moving, felt his words settling into her heart. He paused, smiled softly. ‘From this day forward I will walk beside you. My path is now your path. I am yours, for ever.’
The celebrant was turning to her now, giving her a little nod. She felt a smile tugging at her lips, a little lump in her throat as she fastened her eyes on his.
‘Zach...what can I say that I haven’t already said? What can I give to you that I haven’t already given? My body, my mind, my soul and my heart. They’re all yours.’ His eyes were glistening. She felt a tear sliding down her cheek. ‘Everything that I have. Everything that I am belongs to you from this day forward.’ She had to stop again. The depth of emotion she could see in his eyes was almost too much to bear. She felt his hands squeezing hers and she took a big breath. ‘And I promise that I shall be yours for ever. I will follow you anywhere you go, everywhere you lead me to. Hand in hand. Heart in heart.’
For a moment she lost herself in his eyes and then the celebrant was asking for the rings and Zach was gazing at her, sliding a ring onto her finger, and then she was pushing a ring onto his and there was a blessing, and she could smell the scent of fresh cut grass and the fragrance of the flowering wisteria but all she could see was him...and then he was taking her face in his hands and she felt his mouth on hers, warm and perfect, and he didn’t pull away but kissed her slowly, a long kiss that made the ground sway beneath her feet, and she could hear the guests clapping and laughing, a random ‘whoop’ and then he broke away, still gazing at her. She saw his lips moving silently, ‘I love you,’ felt her heart caving in her chest, her cheeks aching with a smile.
And then suddenly Alessia skipped forward and looked up. ‘Papà. That was yucky!’
* * *
Zach walked to the edge of the terrace and leaned on the parapet. He needed a moment to take it all in, to acclimatise to his happiness. Somehow he was here again on his wedding day, surrounded by family and friends. He looked down at his left hand, rotated the new platinum ring on his finger. Married! He’d thought it would never happen again. He felt a little smile growing on his lips and looked up. Olivia was mingling with their guests, her eyes glowing, cheeks dimpled in endless smiles. He watched her, bathed in the surge of love and admiration he felt for her.
She was talking to Milo. She had her hand on Milo’s arm and their faces were animated, and then Milo was pulling her into an embrace, kissing her cheek, and she was laughing, kissing him back. He remembered how mad with jealousy he’d been when he’d thought... That seemed such a long time ago. He shifted his gaze to the man at Milo’s side. His name was Luca, a musician Milo had met at Pavane. The bar seemed to bring people together somehow...
Going into business with Marcello had been a good decision. He was playing more regularly now—playing with other musicians too—living just enough of the old dream to feel energised. And the bar was getting great reviews on the Web, becoming known for its eclectic mix of acts, for being a platform for up-and-coming musicians. It felt great, giving new people a chance to be heard. Ravello—the city of music—the perfect place for a music venue. He was so grateful to Olivia for giving him a nudge in the right direction.
Lucia was walking towards his parents, her new friend Massimo at her side. Zach looked down at his feet to hide his amusement. Liv had guessed ages ago that Lucia had a suitor but she’d kept it to herself, dropped mischievous hints now and again. He’d been the last to know.
He looked up again. Lucia was talking to his mother. His father was sitting in a chair bouncing Alessia on his knee. She was showing him her dancing shoes, talking nineteen to the dozen he could tell. He liked seeing them together, could already see how Alessia could wrap her grandfather around her little finger. It made him chuckle. He’d never learned that art, but at least his father was delighted with Villa Fiori, pleased with the manager, Lorenzo. The bookings were promising for the coming year and the next year would be even better. Casa Isabella was already booked to capacity—that was why he and Olivia had set a date at the end of March—it had been the only free Saturday in spring.
He’d half-expected her to choose somewhere else to get married but, if anything, she seemed fonder of the house now than she’d ever been. It was as if she’d bonded with Izzy somehow—and she’d melted his heart when she’d said that Izzy was family, that if they married somewhere else then it would be like shutting Izzy out.
They’d had their ceremony in the garden, not on the terrace. Olivia was especially fond of the shady little garden rooms, the arched folly with its rampant clambering wisteria, and they were a small gathering of immediate family and friends so the space had felt intimate. Perfect.
‘Are you okay, Zach?’
He turned and smiled. Lucia had joined him, elegant in her red dress. ‘Yes. I’m happy—what about you? Are you okay?’
She linked her arm through his. ‘Yes. I’m fine. A little sad, but I’m very, very happy for you and Olivia. She’s...she’s good for you, Zach, and Alessia loves her so much.’
He felt a lump rising in his throat and nodded.
Lucia drew in a breath, looked over the terrace then lifted her eyes to the house. ‘I think Isabella is at peace now, knowing that you are loved and that Alessia has a mamma. I feel her, you know...and I think she’s happy today.’
Zach looked down, saw that Lucia’s eyes were wet. He put his arm around her shoulders, pulled her against him. ‘I couldn’t have managed without you, you know that, don’t you? You’ve been a tower of strength for me and for Alessia and I want to thank you from the bottom of my heart.’
She sniffed, sighed a little. ‘You helped me too, Zach. Letting me stay here, letting me look after Alessia—it helped. Being useful took my mind off things a little bit...’
He shifted his gaze back to the terrace, watched Olivia talking to her mum and dad. Family. It was so important. He was glad she’d made up with her dad. He could see how close they were, could see it in their eyes and in their body language as they chatted.
Olivia turned her face, caught his eye, lit up as if she had a little beacon inside. The way she looked in her ivory silk dress, the simple neckline sitting just below her collarbone, the soft fabric flowing around her legs as she moved. He wanted to take her into a quiet part of the garden, pull her close, kiss her slowly, deeply, feel her body pressed against his. The thought of it was making him dizzy.
‘You should go to her, Zach. I can tell you want to...and the way she’s looking at you—she wants you too.’ Lucia patted his arm. ‘Go...go!’
He kissed Lucia’s cheek then walked to Olivia’s side. He slipped his arm around her waist, leaned in to her ear. ‘I’d like to spend some time alone with my wife.’
Her breath warmed his cheek. ‘You must have been reading my mind.’
‘Let’s go!’ He lifted two glasses of champagne from a passing tray, handed her one and led her into the garden, through the shady rooms she loved. At the folly where they’d exchanged their vows he stopped, turned to face her.
She had the strangest look in her eye, a warm, glowing, secret look which was turning him inside out. He reached for her hand. ‘Have you any idea how lovely you look? How happy you’ve made me today?’
She smiled. ‘So you couldn’t be happier...?’
‘No! I absolutely couldn’t.’ He lifted his glass, touched it to hers. ‘Here’s to you, my beautiful, amazing wife.’ He put the glass to his l
ips, felt the cool champagne tingling on his tongue, then realised suddenly that she hadn’t moved. She was looking at him, glass in hand. He felt a frown creasing his forehead. ‘What’s wrong, Liv?’
She looked down at her feet, seemed to be smiling, and then she looked up. ‘I can’t drink this.’
‘Why—?’ The word escaped from his lips a nanosecond before the penny dropped and then he was staring at her, looking into her eyes, just to make sure he’d got it right. He swallowed, found his voice. ‘You’re—? No! We’re—?’
She was smiling and nodding, her eyes sparkling. ‘Yes!’
He felt the glass slipping from his fingers, heard it land on the grass. ‘When did you—? How...?’
‘A couple of days ago—I’ve been so busy with the wedding that I hadn’t noticed I was late.’ He watched as she put her glass down on the folly step. ‘I’m only six weeks. As to how—’ She pulled a thinking face. ‘I think you know!’
‘So you couldn’t be happier?’
Just moments ago she’d asked him that, and now he thought he might actually burst. Slowly, he reached his hands to her waist, looked at the way her dress fell straight down over her flat stomach. He dropped to his knees, kissed the place where the new life was growing, whispered, ‘Hello, baby.’
And then he felt Olivia’s fingers in his hair and he remembered why he’d wanted to be alone with her.
He stood up, cupped her face tenderly in his hands and kissed her slowly, deeply. He felt her body rising to his and then he was losing himself in the warm smell of her skin, the scent of her perfume and the fragrance of wisteria drifting on the gentle breeze.
* * *
If you enjoyed this story, check out this other great read from
Ella Hayes
Her Brooding Scottish Heir
Available now!
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