And there she was, sitting on the ground under the tree he’d fallen out of as a child, and she turned her head and smiled at him and he thought he was going to be sick with relief.
‘Ciao, Gio. I knew you’d find me. I’ve hurt my ankle.’
Thank God. He’d been so afraid—
‘It probably wouldn’t have killed you to have your phone on you,’ he said gruffly, dropping it in her lap before sitting down beside her and pulling her into his arms.
‘I left it in the car. Have you been trying to get me? I could hear it ringing, but I couldn’t get there. I’m sorry.’
‘Don’t be. What have you done to your ankle?’
She shrugged. ‘Just twisted it. I must have stood on a root or something, and it just turned under me, but I can’t put any weight on it.’ She rested her head against his shoulder. ‘I’m sorry I worried you. I knew you’d know where to find me.’
‘Only because I drove past the end of the track. I was going to Chianciano to look for you.’
‘Ah. I walked out of the meeting. The bride was being unrealistic and stroppy, and I didn’t need to have that sort of hassle, so I did what you suggested and cherry-picked her out of my life. Then I came here to think, and I’ve had rather more time to do it than I anticipated. Still, it’s been useful. I’ve got lots to tell you.’
‘I’ve got lots to tell you, too. Can I go first?’
‘Sure. Just let me get these messages. They can’t all be from you.’
‘They might well be,’ he said drily, and she bit her lip guiltily.
She started to listen to them, and one after the other, they grew more desperate, until by the last one she could tell he was coming unravelled.
Anita, please call me! I don’t know where you are, and I think something must have happened. Please, call me, cara. I love you.
She stared at the phone. Did he mean it?
‘Did you mean it?’
‘What?’
‘You said you love me.’
He smiled ruefully and brushed his knuckles over her cheek. ‘Yes, cara, I meant it. Te amo, Anita. I love you. That’s what I was coming home to tell you.’
‘Oh, Gio!’
She burst into tears and flung her arms around him, sobbing. ‘You have no idea how long I’ve waited to hear you say that,’ she mumbled into his shirt, and he gathered her up against his chest and held her while she cried.
‘I’m sorry,’ she said, pulling herself together with an effort and tilting her head so she could see his face.
His eyes were tender, bright with tears, and he brushed the hair back from her face and kissed her slowly.
‘I love you,’ he said quietly. ‘I think I’ve probably always loved you. That’s why I’ve never been able to love anyone else, because none of them were you. I should have talked to you years ago, told you how I felt, but I didn’t really understand it until now, when I couldn’t find you. I knew I loved you—I’d realised that this morning while I was packing up some things in my apartment, but it was only when I couldn’t get hold of you and I started to think of all the dreadful things that could have happened—’
‘Shh,’ she murmured, pulling his face down and kissing him gently. ‘I’m sorry. I’m so, so sorry.’
‘It’s all right. It doesn’t matter now.’
He let her go, to her regret, and got up—only he didn’t, not really. He went up onto his knees, then bent one leg up so the foot was on the ground, and then he took her hand. On one knee?
‘Gio?’ she said softly, and he smiled.
‘Marry me, Anita,’ he said quietly. ‘I know I’ve been an idiot. I should have talked to you long ago, worked it out, because it’s so blindingly obvious to me now, but I just didn’t realise how much you meant to me, and I had no idea what happiness truly was until now. In fact it’s such a recent revelation I haven’t even got you a ring, but you’re a difficult woman to please and I’m sure you’ll have your own ideas,’ he added with a smile.
‘So, will you? Please? Marry me, and let me love you and look after you and our baby, and make a life for us, here in the country surrounded by our families?’
‘Oh, Gio! Of course I will. I’d love to marry you,’ she said, tears welling in her eyes, and he pulled her into his arms and kissed her as if she was the most precious thing in the universe.
Then he eased away, looking down into her face and wiping away a tear with his thumb. ‘Come on, let’s get you home and sort this ankle out.’
He scooped her up and put her in his car, and she sent him back to fetch her shopping and her bag, and then he drove her home, carried her inside and looked at her ankle.
‘Do you think it needs hospital?’ he asked, and she shook her head.
‘No. We could ask Luca to look at it, but later. Stick some ice on it and come and sit down and let me tell you what I’ve been thinking.’
‘Let me guess,’ he said, sealing crushed ice in a bag and wrapping it in a towel before placing it gently on her foot. ‘You want to ditch your business.’
‘No, but I do want to scale it back, at least until the baby’s older. How did you know?’
He smiled. ‘Because I’ve spent the last few days planning how to scale back mine.’
Her eyes widened. ‘You’re closing your law practice?’
‘Not entirely. I’m going into the family business, but I might keep a small amount of work going, maybe more locally. I’m sick of it, Nita. I’ve done nothing else for too long, and now it’s time to come home, to the things that really matter. You, the baby, my family.’
He hadn’t called her Nita for years, not since they’d been children, and it made her want to cry with happiness.
He looked down at her hand, stroking her ring finger. ‘Just one thing,’ he said, ‘before you go off on maternity leave. I’ve got a job for you. How quickly can you arrange a wedding?’
She laughed. ‘Oh, Gio, you’d be amazed.’
‘Good. Because I’ve discovered that the idea of having you as my wife is getting more and more appealing, and I’ve realised I don’t want to wait any longer than I absolutely have to.’
‘Can you give me four weeks?’
‘If I must. Can you organise the sort of wedding you want in that time?’
She laughed, the musical sound filling him with joy. ‘Oh, Gio, of course I can. I’ve been planning it in my head since I was fourteen years old. I know exactly what I want.’
‘Well, we’d better make sure you have it, then.’
* * *
They were married in the chapel in the palazzo five weeks later.
It took a little longer than she’d thought because they had to stop planning every few minutes to hug and kiss and talk some more. Highly distracting, but she wouldn’t have changed it for the world.
She’d spent years now creating dream weddings for other people, and she knew exactly how to achieve what she wanted. It wasn’t complicated.
No hoopla, no nonsense, no fireworks or star-studded ceilings in a marquee, no entertainment or extravagance.
Just the people they loved. Their family and friends, gathered round to celebrate their union, and she had her wish.
It was a glorious day. She wore a simple lace dress that fitted her beautifully and proudly showed off her baby bump, and an ancient lace veil that had belonged to her great-grandmother, and Lydia and Carlotta cooked the most amazing wedding breakfast. They set up tables in the colonnaded courtyard in the palazzo, and after they’d eaten they cleared them away and had dancing.
And then, when she began to flag, Gio scooped her up in his arms and carried her down the steps of the palazzo to the waiting car, and they were driven away.
Not home, not that first night, because the builders were in, but to the bridal suite of a nearby hotel.
She was still in her wedding dress, and they shed confetti all the way up stairs to their room, but nobody minded. They were well known in the area, and well loved, and it was a wedding the
y’d all been looking forward to for years.
Gio closed the door behind them, and drew her into his arms. She was still smiling. She’d been smiling that morning when she got up in her parents’ home for the last time as a single woman, and she’d smiled all day.
‘Happy?’ he murmured.
‘Very happy. You?’
He nodded, his eyes caressing her. ‘Of course. How could I be anything else? I’ve got the most wonderful wife in the world, we’re having a baby—life’s perfect.’ He bent his head and kissed her.
‘Te amo, Anita. Te amo...’
* * *
Four and a half months later, at the end of October and right in the middle of harvest, Anita gave birth to his son.
He was born in the morning, and by evening he was at home with them, the crib all ready beside their bed, and after she’d fed him Gio changed his nappy, a little nervously despite all the practice on his nieces and nephews, and then settled down beside her, the baby cradled in his arms.
She rested her head on his shoulder, and he smiled down at her. ‘OK?’
‘Definitely. I’m glad he wasn’t too early. I can still smell the paint.’
Gio laughed softly. ‘The poor builders. They’ve been here all day clearing up the last of their mess, but at least he’s got a nursery when he needs it, even if he hasn’t got a name.’
‘We’ll choose one.’
‘He might have to have two. How about Luigi?’
‘No. How about Mario?’
‘What, as in Super Mario?’
She laughed and snuggled closer. ‘How about we put all the names in a pot and pull one out and call him that?’
He stared down at his baby, a tiny frown between his eyebrows as he stroked his fingers tenderly over his son’s soft, downy cheek. ‘Or we could call him Georgio, after Camilla’s son. After all, in a distorted sort of way we owe him for all this. Without him, she wouldn’t have been in that situation, and without us being thrown together we might never have come to our senses.’
‘We?’ She tilted her head round so she could see his face, and laughed at him, but not unkindly. ‘I never lost my senses. I’ve been in love with you since I was tiny, and I’ve always known it. You’re the one who came to his senses, and you certainly took your time.’
He hugged her with his free arm, snuggling her closer, holding the people he loved most in the world against his heart. How could he ever have doubted that he loved this wonderful, brave, generous woman who’d been his lifelong companion and friend? He’d fought it for years, failed Kirsten not because she wasn’t loveable but because his heart was already taken. He just hadn’t admitted it, but there was no denying it now, and he bent his head and pressed a tender kiss to her lips.
‘Well, at least you know it wasn’t a hasty decision. So—Georgio?’
She nodded slowly. ‘Yes. I like it, and I like the idea of calling our baby after him.’ She gazed down at their baby, perfect in every way, and felt a wave of love so strong she had to blink away the tears.
‘He’s beautiful,’ Gio said softly, and rested his cheek against her forehead. ‘Just like his mother. Did I ever mention that I love you, Anita Valtieri?’
‘I’m not sure. Say it again, just in case?’
She felt his smile, then the soft graze of stubble as he turned his head and kissed her tenderly.
‘Te amo, carissima. Te amo...’
* * * * *
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CHAPTER ONE
CLARA HAD HEARD A LOT about Tyson Diamond. Some of it good, a lot of it questionable. But none of the reports had warned her that he was over six feet of sexy cowboy with a break-your-heart smile and a devilish gleam in his eye.
And now he was striding this way as Angela, still resplendent in her wedding dress, waved him over.
Clara wondered if she could say her final congratulations to Sam and Angela and escape before Tyson reached them. She’d managed to avoid him up to this point, after all. She’d been helping his father, Virgil, with his rehab after his stroke, and her off-duty hours were spent helping Angela plan the wedding from the safety of Butterfly House, the transition shelter Angela managed and where Clara currently lived. And Ty had been wrapping up his business up north and spending time with Sam as they worked together running the ranch. Somehow she and Tyson had failed to cross paths in the weeks leading up to the wedding.
Until today.
This afternoon he’d turned up spit-polished in his black suit with his hair just a little messy. Her mouth had gone dry just looking at him. Ty was exactly the sort of man she tried to avoid. Tall, sexy, confident and careless. The kind that ate shy girls like her for breakfast. The kind that girls like her could never resist.
Her heart had taken a little jump and she’d caught her breath before she could even put a thought together. But Ty had sauntered in, all long legs and crooked grins, and there it had been. Whomp. Attraction, pure and simple. Nothing in the world could have surprised her more.
He was still several feet away but closing the gap fast, and Clara felt panic start to bubble, making her chest cramp and her breath shorten. She wasn’t ready to handle this. She felt as tongue-tied as a schoolgirl only with the sobering wisdom of a woman who’d been through hell. Putting the two together only created chaos in her mind. A quick exit was in order. She turned to Sam and Angela and forced a smile.
“I’m going to take Virgil in now, but I wanted to say happy wedding day to you both.” She gave Angela a brief hug. “I’m going to miss you around the house, but you’re going to have a wonderful time on your honeymoon.”
Sam hugged Clara as well. She didn’t feel the unholy urge to pull away and run the way she usually did when faced with someone intruding on her personal space. She’d learned to trust Sam in the weeks leading up to the wedding, especially after he’d stood beside Angela as she faced her own demons.
“You did great today,” he said quietly, giving her arm a gentle squeeze. “And you look beautiful.”
Heat infused her cheeks at the compliment and at the knowledge that Tyson was nearly upon their little group. “Thank you. Now I’d better get Virgil inside, he was looking tired….”
Sam’s voice cut her off as he looked over her shoulder. “Have you met Ty yet?” he asked. “Ty, this is Clara Ferguson, Dad’s nurse. You’ll be seeing a lot of each other from now on.”
Too late. Clara closed her eyes and took a steady breath. She really wished she wasn’t blushing as she turned around, but she could feel the heat centered in her cheeks. Dammit.
Tyson’s jaw sported a faint shadow of stubble and the suit coat hung awkwardly on his rangy frame. But the style worked for him and his dark eyes held a gleam of approval as he looked down at her. His appraising gaze made something curl inside her uncomfortably. What she wouldn’t give for a pair of comfy jeans and a baggy sweater right about now. The sage-green bridesmaid’s dress was far
too fitted to her figure and made her feel conspicuous. Compliments were well and good, but she was far more confident when she was in her comfort zone.
“Mr. Diamond,” she said, setting her jaw defiantly as she held out her hand. She could set the tone between them right here and now. Businesslike—exactly the way it should be between her and Virgil’s adopted son.
But it was an utter flop of an attempt. His warm fingers enveloped hers in a strong, lingering grip. A hint of a smile flirted with the corners of his mouth. “It’s just Ty,” he replied, with a voice as smooth and chocolaty as the dark depths of his eyes. “Or Tyson if I’m on your bad side.”
Bad side? Right now she felt as though she might swallow her tongue as she looked into his face. She liked the feel of her hand in his. Where was the old reliable revulsion she’d become accustomed to? The instinctive need to pull away and keep her distance? She knew how to deal with that. This was all new territory, and she was momentarily at a loss for words.
His smile widened and she pulled her hand away, hiding her fingers within the clasp of her left hand. “Right,” she said, her voice shaking. “Well, I’d better get your dad inside. Good night, everyone.”
She couldn’t meet his gaze as she scuttled away, but she heard Sam’s voice and it made her burn with humiliation.
“Go easy,” Sam warned Ty.
“Did I do anything?” There was a hint of defensiveness in Ty’s voice that fit with what she’d heard through the grapevine. That things weren’t as smooth sailing between the brothers as they seemed.
She quickened her steps so she wouldn’t hear Sam’s answer. Everything she’d heard around town was right, then. She hadn’t been able to tune out the snatches of conversation that had reached her ears today. The return of the prodigal Tyson was a hot topic. Unfortunately so was his track record with the ladies.
Tyson Diamond was gorgeous and he knew it. He was also a wild card and Sam’s illegitimate cousin who’d been adopted by Virgil and Molly as a baby. Trouble. He was the last person who should make Clara blush and stammer. She was smarter than that, wasn’t she?
The Valtieri Baby Page 16