‘Arianna and I arrived yesterday. She’s back at the hotel with a sitter,’ he added. ‘She’s part of me. The best part of me. We come as a team, so it felt right she came too.’
‘She’s here? But I leave tomorrow!’
‘I know.’ His smile was tender and Maddie curled her hand around his cheek, unable to let go, convinced that if she stopped touching him he would disappear. ‘I helped plan this trip, remember? I know every place, every stop. So,’ now he looked unsure, as unsure as she had ever seen him, ‘if you would allow two gatecrashers then Ari and I would love to accompany you to Florida, where she is planning to go on every roller coaster in the state. If you would rather travel alone then we understand. In that case we will fly to Florida and Ari’s plans still stand. And I...’ His voice trailed off. ‘I will wish you all the love and luck in the world.’
Maddie’s heart was so full of joy and hope it ached with a sweetness entirely new to her. Her lonely trip would no longer be lonely. Dante wanted to be with her; Ari was here. No tables for one and long nights trying to convince herself she was having fun. ‘I’m sure there’s room for two extra passengers,’ she said, wondering why he wasn’t touching her yet. Couldn’t he see that she was trembling with need? ‘Just to Florida?’
‘After Ari has made herself suitably scared we need to go home. I am planning to sell the Rome house and move back to the castello. But I think you should carry on with your plans. I don’t want to step in your way.’
Maddie could feel tears burning in her eyes. ‘Plans can change,’ she said. ‘If a better offer comes along.’
‘I’m not sure it’s better, but it’s all I have, Maddie.’ Finally, finally he had taken her hands in his, his touch igniting a fire within her she never wanted to burn out. Maddie stared up at Dante, drinking in the austere lines of his face, quivering at the heat and passion burning in his eyes. How could she ever have thought this man a cold statue?
‘Madeleine Fitzroy. Ti amo. Vuoi sposarmi? I love you. Will you do me the greatest honour and become my Contessa, my wife?’
Yes! her heart shouted, but she stilled it. ‘On one condition.’
‘Anything,’ he promised, his heart in his eyes, and Maddie held tightly on to his hands, unable to believe that all that love, that desire was for her.
‘I still want to see sloths...’ she said, her mouth curving into a provocative smile. ‘What do you think about honeymooning in Costa Rica?’
‘If you marry me I will happily spend my honeymoon with mould-covered bears, anywhere you desire. Maddie, I know how much time you have spent planning and looking forward to this trip. Are you sure you want to cancel?’
‘Postpone,’ she said. ‘I still intend to go to every single country on my list, but I don’t have to do it all at once. I’d rather go with someone by my side, share my adventures with someone. If you’ll come.’
‘With you? Anywhere,’ he vowed and then slowly, with infinite tenderness he kissed her as if it was the first time, a gentle caress filled with more love than Maddie had ever thought possible. She leaned in to the kiss, holding him tight, never wanting to let him go. He had her heart, her soul and she knew that she had his. It was all she had ever wanted. She’d wanted adventure, to discover who she was. Maddie knew that her greatest adventures were about to start and that Dante Falcone would be by her side the entire time.
EPILOGUE
SHE’D BEEN HERE BEFORE. A white dress. A bunch of flowers. An expectant groom. Last time she had been on the verge of being a Countess; this time she was planning on becoming a contessa. But the title didn’t matter. The castle didn’t matter. All that mattered was the man waiting for her and the small girl by her side.
‘This is so romantic,’ Arianna said, looking around at the other wedding groups in the foyer, all waiting for their number to be called, waiting for the moment they were finally married. ‘When I grow up I want to do exactly the same.’
Maddie put an arm around her and held her close. ‘When you grow up I think your father will hope you got married at the castello, but the truth is, Ari, it’s not the wedding that’s important, it’s being married. It’s not the setting. It’s the vows you make and meaning them.’
Last time Maddie had planned a huge society wedding. The type that meant she had existed on no carbs and excessive exercise to make sure the slim-fitting designer dress had hung on her perfectly, the type where every family member, no matter how far removed, had been invited. A wedding that had required a team of wedding planners and had nearly induced a nervous breakdown in her mother when the napkins hadn’t quite matched the tablecloths. She didn’t want that again. Nor did she want any Runaway Bride headlines. She just wanted to marry Dante.
So here they were, still in New York, waiting in line at City Hall for a quick and simple wedding. They’d only had to give twenty-four hours’ notice after registering for their licence and she and Arianna had spent the time shopping for a simple white dress for Maddie and a matching silver one for Arianna, before heading to a spa for facials and haircuts and mani-pedis. It was a far cry from her last hen weekend on the Côte d’Azur, but a lot more enjoyable, spending time with the serious girl who was going to be her new daughter. They had already decided that there would be no ‘steps’ in their family. And maybe riding roller coasters in Florida wasn’t Maddie’s first choice of honeymoon destination, but they had promised Arianna a week of fun before her au pair arrived to take her back to the castello and prepare her for school, while Dante and Maddie headed down to Costa Rica for a fortnight alone. Dante had drawn the line at hostels, but, as he had booked them a gorgeous villa right on the beach, Maddie decided she would allow him his way this time.
‘Nervous?’ Arianna whispered as the sweet couple in vintage dress who had been waiting next to them got up and walked into the chapel. Maddie’s chest squeezed. They were next.
‘Not at all. I’m just excited.’
‘The only thing we need to be nervous about is telling Zia Luciana and Nonna that we got married at City Hall and they weren’t invited,’ Dante said, smiling at Maddie with the sudden sweet smile she had fallen for just a few weeks ago.
‘But as we will celebrate with them all in New Zealand at Christmas, and I will let my parents organise their own party for us, I think we’ll be forgiven,’ Maddie reassured her.
And then it was their turn. The three of them and a photographer who would act as a witness as well as recording the moment Maddie gave herself to Dante and he to her. The short ceremony passed in a blur. All Maddie knew was the intensity and love in Dante’s eyes as he recited his vows, the feeling of rightness as she said hers, the sheer happiness when the clerk pronounced them married, the joy in Arianna’s face as she hugged her new mother and the moment Dante took her hand and promised her huskily that he would never let her down.
It was all she needed to know. It wasn’t the wedding...it was the marriage. And she was more than ready. The Runaway Bride had stopped running. She’d found her family at last.
* * * * *
If you enjoyed this story, check out these other great reads from Jessica Gilmore:
Baby Surprise for the Spanish Billionaire
The Sheikh’s Pregnant Bride
A Proposal from the Crown Prince
Her New Year Baby Secret
All available now!
Keep reading for an excerpt from Reunited at the Altar by Kate Hardy.
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Reunited at the Altar
by Kate Hardy
CHAPTER ONE
‘ARE YOU SURE you’re all right about this, Abby?’ Ruby asked.
‘Absolutely,’ Abigail fibbed. ‘I’m so pleased he agreed.’
That bit, at least, wasn’t a lie. Abigail was more than pleased that Bradley Powell had not only agreed to come to his twin sister’s wedding, he’d also promised to walk her down the aisle in their late father’s stead—especially as he hadn’t set foot in Great Crowmell, the Norfolk seaside town where they’d grown up, in the years since their father’s funeral. Ruby had been panicking that Brad would make an excuse not to come to her wedding because he still couldn’t face coming home.
As for actually seeing her ex-husband again for the first time since their divorce: that wasn’t something Abigail relished. But she was five years older now. Infinitely wiser. She could do this. And she would do this with a smile, for Ruby’s sake. No way was she going to rain on her best friend’s parade.
‘You know you can bring a date to the wedding,’ Ruby said. ‘Just give me a name for when it comes to sorting out the place cards. Or you don’t even have to do that—bring whoever you like and I’ll get someone to write his name on the place card that morning.’
‘Thanks, but I don’t need a date. I’m going to be way too busy on the day for that,’ Abigail said with a smile. ‘I’ve got chief bridesmaid duties to think about, and I want everything to go perfectly for your wedding.’ The fact she’d barely dated since her divorce was irrelevant.
Or—a nasty thought hit her—was Ruby trying to tell her something? That she should bring a date, because Brad was bringing his new love to meet everyone and it would be awkward if Abigail turned up alone?
‘Is Brad bringing a date?’ Abigail asked, trying her best to sound casual and hoping that her suddenly thumping heart didn’t show in her voice.
‘Of course he’s not. He’s married to his j...’ Ruby winced and clapped a hand to her mouth. ‘Um.’
Abigail smiled and finished the phrase. ‘Married to his job.’ Whereas he’d once been married to me. And she knew that was exactly what Ruby was thinking, too.
‘Sorry, Abby. I didn’t mean to—’
Abigail hugged her best friend. ‘It’s fine. That water’s so far under the bridge, it’s already been recycled twice. Brad and I can be civil to each other.’ She hoped. She’d been through all the stages of grief at the end of their marriage. Denial that it was over, anger that he was being so stubborn, bargaining with him to see sense, depression when she realised that she just wasn’t enough for him, and finally acceptance that it was all over. All laced together with guilt, because she’d been the one to instigate the end.
She’d been so sure that if she walked out on him and went home to her parents, it would shock him into his senses: that he’d miss her and realise that shutting her out wasn’t the answer.
And how wrong she’d been. Because, instead of asking her to come back to him, Brad had simply said that her defection was proof that everyone had been right about them. They’d been way too young to get married, they weren’t going to make it, and he’d give her a divorce so she could have the chance to make a real life for herself.
Divorce had been the last thing she’d wanted.
But Brad had built a wall of ice around himself after his father’s death. He’d shut Abigail out, and she just hadn’t been able to reach him. Despite being married for nearly four years, they hadn’t been strong enough to weather the storm. She hadn’t supported him enough in his grief or been able to hold her marriage together.
So maybe everyone had been right about their relationship, after all. They’d been naive and reckless and immature, eloping to Gretna Green the week before their exam results. Everyone else had thought they were simply doing the coast-to-coast walk from St Bees in the Lake District to Robin Hood’s Bay in Yorkshire, raising money for the local lifeboat rescue team—which they had. They’d just happened to go to St Bees via Gretna Green, having quietly sorted out all the marriage paperwork the day after their last exams.
At the time, they’d both thought that eloping would be romantic. That each other was The One. That their love would last for ever.
Yeah. Naive, reckless and immature just about summed it up.
And she wasn’t any of those any more.
‘Is Brad OK with me being your bridesmaid?’ Abigail asked. ‘If he’s not, you know I’ll step down and keep out of the way on the actual day—but obviously I’ll still help you with all the organisation and do anything you need.’
Ruby rolled her eyes. ‘For goodness’ sake. Who else was I going to ask to be my chief bridesmaid, other than the person who’s been my best friend since the day we met at toddler group?’
And who also happened to be her twin’s ex-wife.
‘Have you actually told him?’ Abigail asked.
‘Yes. And he—well, he said the same that you did. That you could be perfectly civil to each other at the wedding.’
Civil. All that passion and love and hope reduced to cool, dismissive politeness. It made Abigail want to weep. What a waste.
Not that she was going to let Ruby have the slightest idea about that. Abigail wanted her best friend’s wedding day to be the happiest day of her life and she’d do her best to make it happen. ‘There you go, then. All’s fine.’ Abigail smiled. ‘Now, we have lists to make. If you will insist on having a whirlwind wedding...’
Ruby snorted. ‘Says the woman who eloped.’
‘There’s a lot to be said for keeping it simple,’ Abigail said lightly. ‘No worries about seating plans, menus or dresses.’
Ruby looked at her. ‘Do you regret it, Abby?’
‘Marrying your brother? Or eloping?’ Abigail asked.
‘You know what I’m asking.’
Abigail sighed. ‘I don’t regret marrying Brad. I loved him. We just brought the wedding forward to before he went away to study rather than waiting until after he’d finished his degree, that was all.’ It had been Brad’s idea to elope and, although part of Abby had thought it wasn’t really practical to get married when he was about to go away and be a student, she’d been madly in love with him and thought he felt the same about her. So she’d said yes, squashing her misgivings.
‘But you regret eloping?’
‘Yes and no. Yes, it was romantic and fun to elope.’ Just the two of them. And they’d made love so tenderly in their cheap hotel room that night. Eighteen years old, with the whole world ahead of them. ‘But, in hindsight,’ Abigail said, ‘I regret not sharing the day with everyone else. It meant Dad didn’t get to walk me down the aisle, our mums didn’t get the chance to dress up and make a fuss, you weren’t my bridesmaid, and your dad wasn’t the best man. Looking back, I realise we were selfish. We should’ve shared that day.’ And maybe if they’d been mature enough to share their wedding, they would�
��ve been mature enough to make their marriage last.
‘Anyway, there’s no point in dwelling on it because you can’t change the past.’ Abigail opened up her laptop. ‘Right. Our list of things to do starts here...’
Six weeks later
Great Crowmell.
Even the signpost made Brad’s stomach turn to knots.
The town where he’d grown up.
The town where he’d met the love of his life.
The town where he’d lost her.
He was dreading this. He’d avoided coming here at all since his father’s funeral—not for birthdays, not for Christmases, not for an off-the-cuff visit. The longer he left it, the harder it was to face. He’d seen his family—of course he had—but not here. He’d met them in London, organised posh afternoon teas and trips to the theatre with hard-to-get tickets, to make up for not coming here.
Every nerve in his body told him to turn the car round again and drive back to London. Back to where he could bury himself in work and forget everything.
But he couldn’t be that selfish. His sister was getting married and he had no intention of letting her down. This was the one thing that would make him come back: Ruby had asked him to walk her down the aisle on her wedding day and he’d promised her he’d do it. Even though the last time he’d set foot in that church and walked down that aisle, he’d been one of the pallbearers carrying their father’s coffin, he’d suck up his feelings for her sake.
Though Brad hadn’t quite been able to face going back to stay in their childhood home, filled with his memories of their father—and with a hefty loading of guilt. Instead, he’d rented a holiday cottage for a few days. One of the ancient two-up, two-down fishermen’s cottages in the flint-built terraces just behind the harbour. A place with no memories, so he had a bolthole when the town and everything that went with it got too much for him: all the kindness and concern edged with speculation and gossip. He knew that Ruby understood and he hoped she’d talk their mother round. He wasn’t avoiding Rosie; he was avoiding the house. Just as he’d done for the last five years. He knew it was selfish, and it made the guilt worse.
Summer Romance with the Italian Tycoon Page 16