by Day Leclaire
“I do.”
“And do you, Grace Barnes, promise to love, honor, and obey—”
“Dad!”
“Don’t interrupt your father, Grace.”
She turned on Luc. “I will not promise to obey. It’s archaic. If you get to cherish, so do I.”
The doorbell sounded, a long, strident, insistent ring. Luc muttered beneath his breath in Italian. Grace closed her eyes and sighed.
“I’ll get it,” Matteo offered brightly.
A minute later, Dom hustled into the room. “What is going on?” he demanded. “Why have I not been told there is to be a wedding?” He regarded Luc and Grace with an expression of outrage. “And why did you tell me you were married, when you were not?”
Luc sighed. “You know why.”
Dom nodded grimly. “Because I would have thrown you out of the family if I had known you had a baby with Grace without benefit of a wedding ring. I still might.”
“What?” Reverend Barnes stared at them in shock. His gaze slid to Toni, kicking and gurgling in Soren’s arms. “She’s your baby, Grace?”
“No!” She covered her face with her hands. “Dad, could you finish the ceremony? Please? I promise I’ll explain everything then.”
“I think you’d better explain everything now.”
A loud, determined banging resounded through the apartment, and Angel headed for the door. Luc’s hands shot into the air. “That’s it. Who the hell’s left to barge in here? Wait a minute. What about the police? They haven’t shown up, yet. In fact, they’re the only ones who haven’t.”
“I came in their place,” a tall, stunning brunette announced from the doorway. Angel stood at her side. “Cynthia Cuthbert, social services.” She smiled at the horrified gathering, her gaze shifting slowly to Luc and Grace. “Hello, Luc. It’s been a long time.”
If the identity of their latest visitor came as a surprise, Luc didn’t show it. “Not long enough,” he said dryly. “Hello, Cynthia.”
Dante elbowed Matteo. “Cynthia? The Cynthia? The woman Luc couldn’t charm?”
“The Cynthia,” his twin confirmed gloomily.
The social worker glided across the room. “You must be Grace,” she said, offering her hand. She lifted an eyebrow. “Am I interrupting something?”
“You know damned well you are!” Luc retorted.
“If this little event has been staged for Antonia’s benefit, I’m afraid you’re too late. The jig is up.” She planted her hands on her hips and fixed Luc with an annoyed glare. “I must say, I’m not at all happy with you. You’ve positively ruined my caseworkers. They’re as giddy as schoolgirls. Am I the only woman in the world you haven’t charmed the pants off of?”
“You’re the second.” He pointed at Grace. “And she’s the third. Though it’s not for want of trying, I might add.”
“Don’t feel bad,” Cynthia told him sympathetically. “I’m sure you did your best.” She glanced at her watch. “I’m afraid I have to get down to business now. I’ve come for Antonia.”
Luc folded his arms across his chest and shook his head. “Not a chance.” His brothers instantly formed a protective circle around the baby. “In one minute Grace and I will be married.”
The social worker shrugged. “That won’t matter. You lied, Luc. You told the department the two of you were already married. Ms. Cartwright warned you of the consequences if you told any more lies, and you ignored her warning.”
“Don’t treat me like a child, Cynthia,” Luc practically snarled. “We both know the department can make exceptions. I want you to make one now.”
A smile of genuine amusement touched her perfect features. “You always did have a way with words. Tell me why I should make an exception for you. Because we were once friends?”
“That’s one reason. You also know my family. You know we’ll take care of Toni, that she’s safe with us.”
“Um . . . Excuse me,” Reverend Barnes interrupted. “I’m very confused. Exactly whose baby is this, and why are you trying to take her away?”
“This I would like to know, too,” Dom chimed in, folding his arms across his chest.
“She’s my daughter,” a voice spoke from behind them. “And no one’s going to take her away. Not if I have anything to say about it.”
Everyone turned. “Brand!” Grace exclaimed in delight. “You’re back.”
“Back . . .” He held out Carina’s hand. A diamond-encrusted wedding band decorated her third finger. “And married. Everyone, my wife, Carina Donati Salvatore.”
“Antonia is Brand’s?” Dom questioned in confusion. “Per Dio! Am I told nothing anymore?”
Spying her daughter, Carina wrenched her hand free of Brand’s and darted across the room, snatching the baby from Soren’s arms. “Toni!” she cried, bursting into noisy sobs, Italian endearments falling as fast as her tears. She hugged her baby close, dropping frantic kisses on Toni’s tuft of black hair. Brand crossed to her side and peered down at his daughter, an expression of wonder dawning on his face.
“She’s beautiful,” he whispered, reaching out a tentative finger to touch a round, pink cheek. “Everything was so hectic before, I didn’t really notice.” He looked up and grinned. “I have a daughter,” he announced in a proud voice.
It took close to an hour to straighten everything out. To Grace’s secret amusement, Brand proved to be the one Salvatore capable of charming the uncharmable Cynthia. By the time she left, he’d managed to straighten out most of their problems and had set up an appointment to settle any final questions.
Grace stood quietly by her father, grateful for the supportive arm he’d wrapped around her. She watched the happy reunion with a calm façade she hoped concealed her inner turmoil. Luc didn’t need to marry her now. And though the knowledge came as a relief, it also caused the most agonizing pain. But that pain was nothing compared to what it would have been if they’d gone through with the wedding and the subsequent divorce.
It was time to face facts. Their marriage wouldn’t have worked, not when Luc didn’t love her. And no matter what he said, he didn’t love her. Not enough, anyway. If she left now, she could depart with some dignity. If she waited much longer she’d break down. She glanced up at her father. “I guess there’s no more reason for the wedding,” she told him quietly.
He covered her hand with his. “I’m sorry, Grace.”
She blinked back tears. Obviously, he understood far more than she’d realized. Was her love for Luc so apparent? “Let’s go, Dad.”
“You’re not going anywhere.” Luc moved to stand in front of her, blocking her escape.
“Luc, don’t,” she pleaded. “Toni is safe now. You don’t have to sacrifice yourself. There’s no point.”
“You’re right. There is no point. Except this.” He took her hand in his. “I want to marry you, cara mia. For real. Now. And it won’t be a marriage of convenience. To be honest, there are times you are the most inconvenient woman I’ve ever met. That doesn’t change the fact that I love you, Grace. I want a forever kind of marriage with you, the kind with vows to love, honor, and cherish.”
“Not obey?” she asked in a shaken voice.
He nodded in satisfaction. “Fine. And obey.”
“Actually,” Reverend Barnes interrupted, “I was planning to add just one more vow to all that. Love, honor, cherish, and never tell another lie. Seems more appropriate that way, don’t you think?”
“Done,” Luc agreed. “Grace?”
She didn’t dare believe. “Why, Luc? Yesterday you wanted an affair. It wasn’t until Ms. Caruthers found out we weren’t married that you changed your mind.”
He shook his head, his golden eyes dark and stormy. “Something else happened.”
“What?”
“Your father walked in.” He cupped her face in his hands, speaking softly, for her ears alone. “Making love to you was beautiful beyond compare. When he walked in the door, it became sordid. I could see it in your face. You were
ashamed. And I realized I’d turned something beautiful, something you should remember with joy for the rest of your life, into something shabby. In that moment, I realized I didn’t want an affair with you. Affairs end. And I don’t want what we have to end. I never have, not from the moment you stepped into my office. I don’t want you just for my lover. I want you for my wife. I want a forever with you.”
Tears shimmered in her eyes. “I love you, Luc.”
“Bellissima mia,” he murmured. “Haven’t I told you how much I love you? You’re the only woman I see anymore. You’ve made me blind to all others. Awake or asleep, I see only your face, hear only your voice. The air I breathe is filled with your scent.” He held out his hand. “Will you marry me?”
“Try and stop me,” she said with a huge smile, and slipped her fingers in his.
Luc turned to Reverend Barnes. “From the top, Reverend. And this time, don’t skip a single word.”
And he didn’t.
Hours later, everyone had left, leaving Luc’s apartment empty and silent. Grace wandered from room to room, not quite sure what to do with herself now that she didn’t have Toni to keep her busy. Luc had disappeared into his study and closed the door. It had turned into a very bizarre wedding day. She considered changing out of her dress, but couldn’t quite bring herself to do it. After all, a woman only marries once, right? Unexpected tears filled her eyes. At least, this woman only married once.
Finally, she retreated to the kitchen and put her bouquet of tea roses in a lovely earthen vase she discovered under the sink. Then she brewed a pot of coffee. Luc appeared in the doorway just as she finished preparing two mugs. He leaned against the door jamb and watched her closely, making her strangely self-conscious.
“The silence is odd,” he said.
“I already miss her.” Grace handed him the mug and he inclined his head toward the living room. She joined him on the couch, curling up beside him. “I didn’t expect to grow so attached.”
“Amazing how something so tiny and helpless can worm her way into your heart when its going blithely from one beat to the next.”
“Luc—”
He took her mug from her unresisting hands and set it alongside his on the coffee table. “It’s natural to feel out of kilter, sweetheart. A lot has happened in a very short time.”
“Including our marriage.” To her horror, her voice broke.
He wrapped her up in a tight embrace. “Especially our marriage.” He kissed the top of her head. “You’re having second thoughts, no doubt because I left you alone for too long. It’s perfectly natural.”
She pulled back slightly, eyeing him in alarm. “Does that mean you’re having second thoughts, too?”
His tender smile eased her fears. “Not a single bridal jitter. They’re all reserved for you.”
“For your information, brides experience jitters before the ceremony.”
“I suspect many a bride experiences them afterward, too, so I’m sure you’re not alone on that front. Maybe they don’t talk about it because it makes them feel a bit foolish. But after such a life-altering event, it’s normal to wonder if you’ve made the right decision, especially once it’s too late to change your mind.”
She stared at him in wonder. “That’s exactly how I’m feeling.”
“Give it a few days and you’ll realize that we didn’t just make the right decision. We made the most perfect decision possible.” The doorbell sounded and Luc nodded as though expecting it. “Right on time.”
“Who’s right on time?”
“The limo.”
“What limo?” she asked in bewilderment.
“Our limo.”
He crossed to the door and opened it. A chauffeur stood there. “Mr. Salvatore? Your car is here.”
“We’ll be down in just a minute.”
“Very good, sir.”
Grace came up behind. “I don’t understand. What’s going on?”
Luc gathered her close. “It’s our wedding night. I want it to be special.”
Suddenly, his odd disappearance after the ceremony made sense. “Is that what you’ve been doing in your study for the past hour?”
He nodded. “I didn’t give you the wedding you deserved. But I’d like to try and give you a wedding night you’ll always remember.”
“Oh, Luc,” she whispered. “It doesn’t matter where we are. I’ll always treasure this day.”
“I intend to make sure of it. This day and this night.”
The ride from Luc’s apartment to Le Premier, the exclusive, five-star hotel perched atop Nob Hill, didn’t take long. From the moment they arrived, they were given preferential treatment, whisked from limousine to check-in, to room in no time at all. The bellman opened the double doors leading to their suite, a massive apartment with a living room, dining room, bedroom, and an enormous bath with a sunken tub the size of a small lake. Vases of fresh flowers sweetened the air in each of the rooms. There was even a bottle of Dom Perignon chilling in a silver ice bucket, along with a selection of cheese, fruit, and chocolate. After showing them the various amenities, the bellman discreetly pocketed Luc’s tip and disappeared.
“It’s not a suite at the Ritz in Paris overlooking the Place Vendôme,” Luc said apologetically. “I seem to recall telling you that would be my choice for our first time together.”
“This is stunning,” she reassured him. “I can’t believe you were able to pull it together so fast.”
“Perhaps we’ll save Paris for our first anniversary.”
Grace simply shook her head, and tears pressed for release again. “Thank you, Luc. It’s perfect. Everything’s perfect.”
He cupped her chin and tilted her face into the light. “Then why are you crying, sweetheart?”
“I think I’m overwhelmed.”
He nodded, as though understanding perfectly. Knowing Luc, he probably did. “I’ll tell you what. Why don’t you enjoy a nice, relaxing bubble bath?”
She smiled through her tears. “That tub looked big enough to swim in.”
“I’d offer to join you, but the point is for you to relax. Maybe by tomorrow, a bubble bath for two will be more tempting.”
Actually, she found it incredibly tempting right now. “Time will tell,” she murmured.
“Then I’ll order dinner and after that . . .”
“After that, what?” she prompted, unable to help herself.
“After that, we’ll just go with the flow.”
Grace couldn’t help herself. She laughed. “You. Go with the flow? Have you ever gone with the flow before in your entire life?”
“Possibly.” He pretended to consider. “Maybe when I was four.”
“That’s what I thought. You direct the flow. You don’t go with it.”
He lifted her chin and took her mouth in a slow, delicious kiss. “And right now I’m directing you to flow into the bathtub.”
Fifteen minutes later, Grace slid into a gigantic pool of fragrant bubbles and closed her eyes with a sigh. Soft music drifted from nearby speakers, the lovely melody easing her tension as much as the warm water. Luc had been right to insist she take a bath. Somehow it managed to melt away all her cares and worries. A short time later, the door opened and Luc appeared, a pair of champagne glasses in hand. She fought the urge to sink lower in the tub. He was her husband, a husband she loved with all her heart. She didn’t need to feel shy around him.
“I’ve ordered dinner,” he informed her, setting one of the glasses on the tile surrounding the sunken tub. “It should be here in an hour or so.”
“Anytime is fine.” She took a sip of the champagne, the carbonation tickling her nose. “You can join me if you want.” She didn’t know where the words came from. But the second she spoke them, she hoped with all her heart he’d agree. He hesitated, clearly torn. It was so unlike him, she held out her hand, and insisted. “Seriously. Please join me.”
Luc didn’t require any further prompting. Slowly, he removed his clothing,
folding everything neatly beside her own. Grace watched his every movement, riveted, the slow revelation of his body equally riveting. First came the broad, muscular chest, covered with a triangular mat of hair that arrowed toward his belt buckle. Next, his long, athletic legs were revealed. And then he shed the last of his clothing, baring tight, toned buttocks. Finally, he turned.
He was aroused and did nothing to conceal it from her. But then, why should he? He was her husband, she reminded herself for the umpteenth time. He crossed to the tub and climbed in, sitting across from her. His legs tangled with hers and he reached for his champagne, downing half of it in a single swallow.
“I should have brought the bottle.”
“We don’t need the bottle.”
She took another sip and drifted across the tub toward him. He shifted to one side and she settled beside him. Their hips kissed and parted in a tantalizing manner, and the brushing caress sent desire rocketing through her. She leaned across him, setting her flute beside his, and his arms closed around her. He drew her more fully into his arms. Warm water and bubbles blanketed them, the foam parting just enough to offer delicious glimpses before modestly concealing them once again.
He kissed her, taking his time, keeping it slow and sweet and gentle. He caught her lower lip between his teeth and gave it a gentle nip. “You feel like silk.”
She laughed. “I think it’s from the bubble bath.”
“I think it’s you.” He cupped her breast beneath the water, his thumb brushing across her nipple, causing it to furl into a tight bud. “See? Soft as silk.”
She rested her hand over his erection. “Not soft as silk.”
“I would hope not,” came his guttural response.
Grace stroked his length, wondering how they’d ever manage to fit together. They would, somehow. But she wasn’t sure she’d find the experience as pleasurable as she’d hoped. “Luc, make love to me.”
“Not in a bathtub. Not for your first time.”
She pulled back and stood. Bubbles slid from her body, clinging to her breasts and belly, and to the strip of hair between her legs. “I seem to remember seeing a huge bed somewhere around here. Will that do?”
