by Kim Lawrence
Poppy lifted a hand to his lips. ‘You don’t have to prove anything to me, Gianluca. All you have to do is continue loving me.’
‘So you will marry me?’
Poppy smiled and thought, Living the dream. ‘Any time, any place … but not anyone—only you.’
Gianluca’s eyes darkened. ‘That,’ he gasped between kisses, ‘works-for-me. All I need to know is how to get you out of this damned dress. Are you sewn into it or something?’
The complaint made her laugh.
‘I’ve changed my mind!’
In the act of sliding down her zip he froze.
‘Not any location—the castle. Everything important, in my life happened there so it only seems right that we—’
He smiled in agreement before seizing the opportunity.
‘On one condition.’
She angled a questioning look at his face. ‘The next important event in your life will not take place in a remote Scottish castle, it will take place in a hospital ward with all the benefits of modern medicine.’
‘I always fancied a home birth …’ Seeing his look of horror, she grinned and added, ‘But marriage is all about compromise.’
‘Sì,’ he slurred, sliding down her zipper to expose the graceful curve of her back. ‘But not all, there are other things,’ he purred, his mouth brushing her ear lobe.
‘Really … that sounds interesting … such as …?’
‘I think it would be much easier for me to show you.’
He did.
It was two months to the day later and early evening when Dougal offloaded the last boatload of wedding guests. He took off his waterproofs to reveal his wedding finery and joined them as they walked up to the castle on the boardwalk lined with lights that had been specially constructed for the occasion.
It was one of many new additions that had been needed to make the castle a suitable venue for the Highland wedding that Gianluca had told his godmother Poppy had set her heart on.
The result of this was that as well as the major structural work required to satisfy the authorities there had been a total renovation of the great hall, and her grandmother now had new plumbing and electrics, the latest in luxury bathrooms and an eco-friendly central-heating system, and all of it achieved without the proud old lady feeling in any way indebted.
The wedding had given her a new lease of life along with her daughter-in-law. Gianluca had made that one simple stipulation—she extended an olive branch or no wedding, because Poppy would not get married without her stepmother present. Millie had managed a lot of the arrangements.
Poppy, a silent observer, had smiled to see him negotiate the deal. It was easy to see why he was so successful, and you had to admire his tactics even if they were upon occasion a bit on the ruthless side.
Still, observing the extraordinary sight earlier that day of her grandmother and Millie collaborating as they oversaw the distribution of the decorative flowers in the great hall, and decided on the sequence the reels should be played in at the ceilidh planned for later, made her grateful that her future husband didn’t take no for an answer.
When they had caught her lurking they had both been united again, this time in their disapproval, and despite her protests that it was still too early had chased her away to get ready.
There was no such thing, according to them, as too
early when it came to a bride preparing for her big moment.
And it turned out they were right. She had barely set the antique veil in position with the assistance of Dina and her mother when her father knocked on the door.
‘It’s time, Poppy—are you ready?’ he called out.
Poppy turned to her two helpers. ‘Am I?’ she asked, smoothing the satin skirt of her deceptively simple gown, which hid her tiny bump, with a hand that wasn’t quite steady.
Dina clapped her hands and said, ‘So cool!’
While Gianluca’s sister gave a sigh and said, ‘Well, for once my little brother has done something right. You look utterly beautiful.’
‘You like?’ she asked, opening the door to her father, who promptly burst into manly sobs, which Poppy took to mean yes.
It was Poppy who ended up soothing her emotional father as they made their way to the small private chapel that had last been used when her grandmother had married. As on that occasion, the place was lit by hundreds of candles.
Serene up to that point, she stood poised quite literally on the threshold when the doubts kicked in.
Shaking, she turned to her dad and shook her head. ‘I can’t do this … it’s … getting married, it … Shouldn’t I have to take an exam or something? They don’t let you drive a car until you’ve had lessons.’
Behind her some place she heard Dina say, ‘Way, way bigger than driving.’
‘Be quiet, Dina,’ her mother hushed.
Poppy’s dad caught both her hands in his. He no longer looked emotional, he looked strong as a rock. ‘The only thing you need to ask yourself, Poppy, is—do you love the man? If the answer is yes, sweetie, you don’t need any lessons or an exam.’
Of course she did—he was right. Poppy felt her panic slip away to be replaced by an excited sense of anticipation.
‘Yes,’ she said happily, and then a little louder. ‘Yes.’
‘Save it for later.’
A single piper played as Poppy walked up the aisle towards Gianluca, who stood waiting resplendent in a kilt to celebrate his Scottish heritage while his grandmother Fiona looked proudly on.
Later Poppy didn’t remember the details of the ceremony, but the expression in his eyes as he looked at her would, she knew, stay with her for ever.
When it came to saying yes she had no hesitation.
The reception in the great hall that was lit up with trailing strings of white fairy lights and scented with hundreds and thousands of white roses—not the sort that came with long stems and no scent, but richly fragranced, overblown garden roses—was a lively, boisterous occasion.
It carried on long after Luca put a hand on her shoulder and whispered, ‘Time to go, I think,’ in her ear.
They slipped away unnoticed. Gianluca locked and bolted the door at the bottom of the stone spiral that led up to the tower bedroom where they were spending their first night as a married couple.
Gianluca undressed her by the light of the moon shining through the window, his eloquent eyes fulfilling the promise he had just made to worship as he bared her pale body.
He kissed until no inch of her tingling skin felt unloved, then he carried her and laid her tenderly on the bed. Undressing quickly, he joined her.
She shivered; his magnificent body tinged with moon silver looked magnificent. ‘So, it’s true what they say about Scotsmen and kilts?’
‘I’ve not the faintest idea, cara, but Italian men view these matters practically. I was thinking easy access—you are sometimes very impatient.’ His throaty laughter made the goose bumps rise on her scalp. ‘Are you blushing …?’
‘You’ll have to do better than that if you want to see me blush, Luca Ranieri.’
In the moonlight Luca, who always rose to a challenge, grinned. ‘I can do better, a lot better.’
The throaty promise made Poppy smile because she knew he could. ‘Show me,’ she whispered in his ear.
And he did.
All the characters in this book have no existence outside the imagination of the author, and have no relation whatsoever to anyone bearing the same name or names. They are not even distantly inspired by any individual known or unknown to the author, and all the incidents are pure invention.
All Rights Reserved including the right of reproduction in whole or in part in any form. This edition is published by arrangement with Harlequin Enterprises II BV/S.à.r.l. The text of this publication or any part thereof may not be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, storage in an information retrieval system, or otherwise, without the wr
itten permission of the publisher.
This book is sold subject to the condition that it shall not, by way of trade or otherwise, be lent, resold, hired out or otherwise circulated without the prior consent of the publisher in any form of binding or cover other than that in which it is published and without a similar condition including this condition being imposed on the subsequent purchaser.
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First published in Great Britain 2011
by Mills & Boon, an imprint of Harlequin (UK) Limited.
Harlequin (UK) Limited, Eton House, 18-24 Paradise Road,
Richmond, Surrey TW9 1SR
© Kim Lawrence 2011
ISBN: 978-1-408-92636-9
Table of Contents
Cover
Excerpt
About the Author
Title Page
Prologue
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Copyright
