Luca had put on such an impeccable show of being infatuated with her, Olivia had needed to remind herself the real reason behind his proposal. He’d insisted she move into his bedroom immediately, and the second night they’d shared his bed, he’d made love to her like a man determined to imprint pleasure on every cell of her being. Afterwards, he’d presented her with an exquisite diamond engagement ring—the most stunning piece of jewellery she’d ever seen.
Every day, the ring on her finger had reminded her she was to be Luca Borghetti’s bride, and she’d wondered whether she was doing the right thing. Every night he’d made love to her with a passionate intensity which banished each apprehensive thought and made her feel like the most cherished woman alive.
Now, she looked at her reflection in the mirror as the hairdresser put the finishing touches on her hair.
‘I’ll put on the veil and then you’ll be ready,’ the woman told her, ‘but will you excuse me for a moment?’
‘Of course.’ There was still plenty of time before she needed to go downstairs.
Moments later, the door to the master bedroom re-opened and Olivia’s eyes locked with Luca’s in the mirror as he walked towards her. He looked so incredibly handsome he stole her breath away.
‘My beautiful bride.’
She swivelled around in her chair. ‘Luca! The groom isn’t supposed to see the bride before the wedding ceremony.’
Her heart flipped when he bestowed a very sexy smile upon her.
‘I won’t let it be unlucky, tesoro.’ He leant down and placed one hand on her shoulder as he kissed her. ‘Besides, I have a present for you.’
She’d been so caught up in drinking in his appearance, she hadn’t noticed the box he carried. ‘Another present?’ Her hand flew to her neck where she was already wearing the incredibly beautiful diamond necklace he’d given her. The matching earrings were on the dressing table, ready to put on once the veil was in place.
‘It’s not from me. It’s from Nick.’
‘Oh.’
Luca’s best friends, Nick and Max, had flown to Rome for the wedding and Olivia had met them a few days ago. Nick was based in London and Max in Vancouver.
‘Nick knew I wanted you to wear this. It belonged to my mother and was worn by every bride in my mother’s family. Damiano had it in his safe and would never have consented to selling it to me or even lending it to you to wear, so Nick arranged for a third party to make an offer Damiano couldn’t refuse.’ He held out the box. ‘Open it, cara.’
Olivia gasped as she lifted the lid and saw a dainty, diamond-encrusted tiara sitting on a velvet cushion.
‘It’s amazing.’ She’d feel like a princess wearing it. ‘You were close to your mother, weren’t you?’
‘Yes. We were very close.’
She remembered he’d told her about promising his mum he’d marry for the right reasons, and had also said his father had flaunted his mistresses around Rome. ‘How old were you when she died?’
‘Ten.’
Way too young to be without maternal influence and subjected to an unloving father.
‘Your father isn’t coming to the wedding, is he?’
‘No, cara. You know he’s been cut from my life.’ The most handsome groom in the world leaned down one more time to brush his warm lips over hers before he told her, ‘Now, I’ll let the hairdresser back and she can help you fix the tiara in place with your veil. I can’t wait much longer to marry you.’
‘Luca! Shoo!’ Marjorie told him as she bustled in. ‘You shouldn’t be here!’
‘I’m on my way,’ he said with a laugh and caught Marjorie on his way out to kiss her cheek. ‘Two beautiful Temple women, but soon—’ he sent Olivia a searingly possessive look, ‘—one will be a Borghetti.’
‘Oh my. He loves you so much,’ Marjorie declared once he’d left the room.
Olivia wished.
The next ten minutes was chaotic as the hairdresser came back and then the make-up artist returned for a last minute touch up—which was just as well after Luca’s kisses.
Then it was time.
‘Time to go, sweetheart,’ Marjorie said with a teary smile.
‘Mum, don’t cry or you’ll start me off.’
‘I can’t help it.’ She sniffled as her eyes swam with tears. ‘You look so beautiful, Olivia. Your father would’ve loved to have been here walking you down the aisle. He would’ve been so proud of you.’
Olivia bit down on her lip as her forehead creased and she battled with the hundreds of tiny pinpricks of tears threatening her eyes.
‘He’s here, Mum.’ It was no good. She sucked in a ragged breath and had to clear her throat as it closed over. ‘You’re walking me down the aisle, but Dad’s here. He’s going to be walking right along beside us every step of the way.’
It was true. She could feel her father’s presence—could see his proud smile and in her heart she heard his voice telling her he knew she’d done everything she could to save him—that it wasn’t her fault she hadn’t been able to revive him.
‘Janie will be here too,’ her mum told her. ‘She’ll be walking down the aisle holding Christiana’s hand and we’ll all be reunited today.’
The happy family they used to be.
Marjorie reached out and caught Olivia against her as she broke down in tears. ‘Oh, darling, I’m sorry. I’ve made you cry.’
The comfort made Olivia’s tears flow even harder because it’d been so long since her mum had soothed her—so long since she’d been able to turn to her mum for support.
‘I’m a silly thing,’ Marjorie apologised. ‘You looked so radiant and now you’re going to have swollen eyes and a blotchy face.’
Olivia laughed through her tears, and hugged her mum tight. ‘I love you, Mum.’
‘Oh, sweetheart, I love you too.’ Marjorie squeezed her back. ‘Now, stop crying and dry up those tears or all the guests will think Luca’s forcing you to the altar.’
‘Aunty Olivia?’
Christiana’s voice pulled her together.
‘Grandma Marjorie, why is Aunty Olivia crying?’
‘Because she’s happy, sweetie,’ Marjorie said as she let go of Olivia and went to her granddaughter. ‘Sometimes we cry when we’re happy.’
‘You’ve been crying too.’
‘Because I’m happy too.’
‘Oh! You look like a princess, Aunty Olivia.’ There was awed wonder in her voice.
‘A red-eyed, blotchy-faced princess,’ Olivia sniffled in an aside to her mother.
‘Nothing a bit more foundation won’t fix,’ Marjorie reassured her.
‘Are you ready to hold my train, Christiana?’
The little girl nodded seriously. ‘I’ve had a big rest this morning so I’d have enough energy for this afternoon.’
Marjorie grabbed the foundation and a couple of tissues. ‘Here,’ she said, thrusting them at Olivia. ‘Just a touch up.’
The ‘touch up’ took another ten minutes before Olivia felt confident she’d repaired the damage enough. She made her way down to the garden with Marjorie holding her hand and Christiana, her nurse, and one nanny lifting up the train. Olivia hadn’t asked any of her friends to the wedding despite Luca telling her he’d send his jet for them. When she’d thought about it, she realised she’d closed herself off so much, the casual friendships she had with her colleagues were only that—casual.
A marquee had been set up on the lawns at the back of the home for the couple of hundred guests Luca had invited, and flowers had arrived by the truckload to decorate an arched walkway over the strip of red carpet serving as the aisle.
Olivia had been out in the garden earlier in the day with Marjorie and was amazed at how wonderful everything looked. What had been the garden of an impressive estate, had been transformed into a scene from a Hollywood movie. Luca had suggested—through his assistant—that they marry at home so Christiana could be close to her bed when she needed to rest, but still feel close to the p
arty.
Now, Olivia took a deep, nervous breath and peered through the blinds at all the guests seated on either side of the red carpet. The only guests she recognised, apart from Chiara, were the equally tall men who stood beside Luca—his best men Max Bennett and Nick Henderson. Every female eye in the place was bound to be riveted to the three males. All of them were exceedingly good-looking, incredibly successful alpha-males. Before she’d met Luca, Max and Nick would also have sent Olivia’s pulse skyrocketing, but she’d always been a one-man woman, and she only had eyes for Luca.
‘You think you’re nervous?’ Marjorie said from beside her. ‘Look at Luca!’
Her handsome husband-to-be shifted his weight from one foot to the other and his fingers ran along the inside of his collar as though it was too tight for him. Then, Max said something that had him laughing and his posture relaxed.
‘He probably thinks you’ve changed your mind,’ Marjorie said. ‘Come on. Time to put him out of his misery!’
As Marjorie opened the door and led her outside into the warm, afternoon sunshine, the orchestra began to play Mendelssohn’s ‘Wedding March’ and all the guests stood.
Olivia smiled at her mum, then looked down the long carpeted walkway to Luca.
The music was barely audible above the beating of her heart.
Luca’s appreciative gaze swept over her then returned to her eyes. His lips curved into an adoring smile and Olivia’s breath hitched. Anyone watching could surely be forgiven for believing the groom was totally head over heels in love with his bride.
‘You’re beautiful, bella,’ he told her when she finally reached him.
Marjorie gave her hands a squeeze then handed them over to Luca as she told them, ‘Love each other and live long and happy lives together.’
God, but Olivia hoped it would be so.
The priest began the ceremony. Even though it was all in English, Olivia found it hard to follow the words because she was caught up entirely in the loving expression on Luca’s face and the promises he made with his eyes.
As they made their vows, his deep voice rang with sincerity—even the part about loving and cherishing her.
‘I will honour and look after you for all our lives,’ he ad-libbed as he lifted her veil to do as the priest bade that Luca might ‘kiss the bride’.
‘Honour’ and ‘look after’ fell short of love, but his kiss was everything she’d come to expect and treasure.
It was a start.
It was something to build on.
Chapter 14
It was the perfect way to wake up—her head cushioned against his shoulder, Luca’s arm curled possessively around her waist and his heavy, hair-roughened leg over hers. Olivia smiled and remembered her mother had commented recently how good it was to see her smiling so often.
She raised her hand to the stubble along his jaw and laughed when he moved his head and caught the tips of her fingers gently between his teeth.
‘Wake me up and face the consequences, Signora Borghetti,’ he growled in his sexy baritone voice.
Laughing, she pressed against him and felt the surge of his arousal. ‘That might be a threat if you didn’t know how much I want those consequences.’
‘You grow bolder every day, cara.’
‘You make me feel beautifully bold, or perhaps boldly beautiful.’
It was true, she revelled in the knowledge she could stir his libido with such ease at any time of the day or night. She’d delighted in getting to know every inch of his body the way he knew hers and for the next hour it was sensational to be caught up in passion so intense it threatened to consume them both.
After their lovemaking, as he lay with his face buried against the sensitive flesh of her neck he whispered, ‘I’ll never have enough of you.’
Her arms tightened around him. ‘I feel the same way.’
God but she loved him—desperately and passionately to the point where she couldn’t imagine waking up and facing the day without him. Although the words were almost constantly on her lips, she didn’t say ‘I love you’ to Luca. She kept hoping she’d wake up one morning and he’d utter the three words she most wanted to hear. Her need to hear those words was so acute, she’d even imagined a few nights ago he’d whispered them against her ear as she drifted off to sleep.
Even as she hoped, she knew it might never happen. He’d been honest about it from the second he proposed.
‘Are you working on more pieces for your exhibition?’ Luca’s morning stubble gently abraded the sensitive skin on her neck as he kissed her.
‘I know you’re keen for me to go ahead with this exhibition you’ve organised, but I’m not sure I’ll have enough to exhibit.’ It was still eight months away, but he’d secured an exhibition for her at one of Rome’s leading art galleries—a large gallery.
‘Of course you’ll have enough. The paintings you did years ago are already being transported from Australia so there’s more work ready to show.’ He kissed her deeply. ‘I love your paintings.’
‘Sorry, but you’re no art critique. You only love my paintings because you understand them,’ she laughed.
‘They’re proper paintings, not like the abstract nonsense at the exhibit we went to on your birthday. You’re very talented.’
‘Yep. You, my mother and Christiana are my biggest fans. It’s hardly an unbiased recommendation.’
In answer he found the spot near the indentation of her waist line where he knew she was most ticklish, and teased her remorselessly until she was giggling uncontrollably.
‘Stop! Stop!’ she protested between fits of giggles. ‘I’ll do the exhibition!’
‘Good.’ The movements of his hands changed to long, caressing strokes.
Reluctantly, Olivia rolled away quickly from him and leapt out of bed while she still could. ‘I’m not working on my art today. Mum and I are going shopping for something for Christiana.’
He frowned. ‘Her birthday’s months away.’
I know.’ She pushed her arms through her dressing gown. ‘This is … Well, don’t worry about it, you’ll have to trust me.’
‘Of course I trust you.’
He started getting out of bed and she tore her eyes away from the divinely sculptured contours of his muscular body lest she give in to temptation and demand more of his lovemaking.
‘We might also go to a movie and have lunch while we’re out.’
‘As long as you run it past your security team, I don’t mind how you spend the day with your mum while I’m at work. It’ll be good for your mum to get out of the house too.’
‘About that security team. Do you really think it’s necessary?’
‘Olivia, we’ve been through this.’
As he headed for the ensuite, she followed him. ‘I know. You’re super wealthy and I could be a target for kidnapping.’
It wasn’t something she’d thought of when she’d agreed to become his wife. She’d only found out after their wedding that a threat had been made on her life and Luca suspected, but hadn’t been able to prove, that his father was behind it.
Damiano was reportedly fuming about their marriage and the way he no longer had contact with Christiana. Luca had beefed up security around all of them, concerned that despite some incriminating evidence he held against Damiano, his father might even try to stage an abduction.
The second Luca had voiced his fear, Max and Nick had swung into action. Although they hadn’t told Luca about their plan, they’d begun a hostile takeover of Damiano’s company. They’d bought up big on Damiano’s stock—enough so they now had the controlling share in his business interests. With their power, they’d gone to Damiano and warned him not to make any threats or go anywhere near Luca, Olivia, Christiana or Marjorie.
Olivia had married into a world of wealth and powerful men. Part of her would give anything to go back to her quiet life in Sydney—but only if Luca, Christiana and her mum were there too.
‘Promise me you’ll follow any d
irections your security guards give you, tesoro,’ her very protective husband told her.
‘Of course.’ She’d do whatever they told her—she just had to be smart about evading them. ‘Now, I’d better hurry. I asked Mum to meet me at the car at nine o’clock which only leaves me with twenty minutes.’
Olivia threw off her robe and ducked into the shower while he picked up his razor.
She had to keep her smile to herself as she considered the day ahead. Her mum was in on the plan. They’d buy the movie tickets and slip into the theatre together. Christiana’s blonde English nanny had been roped into sitting immediately inside the entrance to the theatre, wearing exactly the same clothes as Olivia and with her hair styled in the same way. In the darkness of the theatre, Marjorie would slip into the seat next to the nanny, Olivia would flee through the emergency exit, and hopefully nobody would be any the wiser.
Ordinarily she’d never think of giving her security team the slip, but today she didn’t want to take any chances her movements would be reported back to Luca.
Chapter 15
‘Congratulations, Signora Borghetti, you were right,’ the doctor told her as he came back into his room. ‘You’re most definitely pregnant and, according to the hormone levels, you’re about six weeks along.’
Excitement burst through her at the news she was expecting Luca’s child.
‘That’s wonderful, doctor.’ She barely refrained from launching herself out of her chair and giving the middle-aged man a hug. ‘Luca’s going to be thrilled.’
‘It’s the news he will have been waiting for.’
It struck her as an odd thing to say considering they’d been married so recently, but she shrugged it off. ‘He told me he wants at least four children.’
‘That’s great, but hopefully one will do the trick.’
The doctor sat down behind his desk and Olivia replayed his words, unable to make sense of them. ‘What do you mean?’
‘The umbilical cord blood.’
Her head angled in question and apprehension replaced excitement. ‘What about it?’
A deep crease appeared between his brows. ‘Luca hasn’t told you?’
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