by Carol Grace
“I will call Maria and Valeria to come back early to stay with you while I go after Sabrina. I can’t let her go.”
The girls jumped down from the chair and clapped their hands. Their eyes were shining. They’d asked for many things before, but they’d never wanted anything like they wanted Sabrina. He felt the same. Why hadn’t he realized it sooner? It would have saved time and effort. Unless they were wrong. They were children, after all. They believed in fairy tales. And they’d do anything to get what they wanted. Maybe Sabrina didn’t love him. Maybe she really loved someone else as Elena did. Then he’d have a hell of a convincing job to do. But she was worth it. He had to bring her back.
Sabrina had just checked into the Palazzo Hotel, the only name she knew, because it was the same hotel where Vittorio had stayed. It was way too expensive for her modest budget, but since this was her first and last time in Rome, she tried not to think about the money or Vittorio and just think about how to spend her few days in the eternal city.
She was studying the map of the city, trying to decide which landmark to see first. She thought she’d be more excited to finally be in the Eternal City and she would be as soon as she changed her shoes and got out into the loud, frantic and magnificent city.
She looked outside across the rooftops trying to see a tower or a famous dome or a familiar spire. Instead when she looked down at the street, she saw a familiar figure standing on the sidewalk looking up at her. She jerked the window open, her heart thudding wildly.
“What are you doing here?” she called from the third story window.
“I came to see the sights…and you.”
She grabbed her purse and raced down the stairs to the lobby and out onto the street.
She wanted to run into his arms and stay there forever, but she stopped a few feet from him and folded her arms across her chest. “But why, why here, why now?”
“I thought you needed a guide,” he said. He pointed to his car. “Get in.”
She tried to enjoy the ride in his expensive, beautifully furnished sedan as she had before when he drove her from Milan. But even in the soft leather seat she couldn’t relax. What was he doing here? She couldn’t take another painful farewell. As usual with Vittorio, she didn’t know what was coming next. Why was he here?
“Naturally I’m glad to see you,” she said, “but…”
“Naturally? What was natural about your running off so fast like that, without any explanation.”
“I thought I explained…”
“You thought you did, but you didn’t give me a chance to tell you why you shouldn’t go.”
She didn’t say anything, she just looked out the window as he gave a sight-seeing tour of the city as if he was the tour guide. A personal tour guide that would have cost a fortune if she were paying for it. Of course she was paying for it, paying in patience and stress and worry about what he was doing, what he was thinking, what he wanted from her and what he was going to say. He finally drove to the Borghese Gardens, “Rome’s answer to your ‘Central Park,’” he said. “There is so much to see in Rome and we’ll see it all, but first I want to take you to my favorite place, the Secret Garden of the Villa Borghese.”
“See it all? How long do you plan to be here? And what about the girls?”
“They’re fine, the staff is looking after them, the chauffeur is taking them to their sailing lesson every day. They send their best wishes. In fact they sent me here to tell you they miss you and want you to come back.” Vittorio parked the car and opened the door for Sabrina.
She didn’t say anything. What could she say that she hadn’t said before. She knew the twins wanted her back. She knew Vittorio did too. That didn’t change anything. They were young. They’d recover, especially if their father took an interest in them. She hated leaving the girls, but she had to.
“Is that why you’re here? Because I already explained to them that I couldn’t stay.”
At the entrance to the Villa Borghese, Vittorio spoke to a guard who immediately greeted him warmly and opened the iron gate to the gardens.
“My favorite spot in Rome,” Vittorio said. “El Giardino dei Melangoli, the Garden of the Bitter Oranges. It may not be the most beautiful garden but my parents brought us here to see our cousins who lived in the villa over there and we were impressed by the statue of the eagle and the trees.” He turned to Sabrina.
“It’s lovely,” she said. “What a change from the noise and traffic outside the villa. Where is everyone?”
“It’s closed to the public today, but they were good enough to let us in when I told them why we were here.”
“Why are we here?”
“I have a question to ask you,” he said, taking a seat on a stone bench under an orange tree.
Sabrina sat next to him. The smell of oranges perfumed the air, the sun filtered through the trees making intricate shadows on the grass. She took a deep breath and waited for the question. He’d gone to a lot of trouble to take her to this place. She didn’t dare hope it would be the one question she was waiting for.
“Do you love me, Sabrina?” His face was so close she could see the lines between his eyes, see his mouth form the words, see the faint brush stroke of a faint beard line his jaw.
She couldn’t speak. Her throat was clogged with emotion.
“Take your time,” he said. “It’s a hard question and you may not know the answer. I do know what I would say if you asked me. I love you.” He stopped and looked at her, then framed her face with his hands. She bit her lip. She twisted her hands together.
“We’ve both made mistakes before,” she said. “We may be wrong again. If so, I don’t think I could live through it.”
“It isn’t the same,” he said. “Not for me. You aren’t Maddelena, you told me so yourself. And I am not the same man who married her. I’ve changed. I know what I want now, and what I want is you.” He kissed her lightly on the lips. “Never mind if you don’t feel the same. I understand you aren’t willing to take a chance again. All I’m asking is that you come back with me to the villa and give me a chance to prove that it will work this time. You and I and the girls.”
Marriage. He said he loved her, but he hadn’t mentioned the magic word. It was because he hadn’t really changed. He was afraid to marry again. She didn’t blame him. Not really.
“I love you too, Vittorio,” she said softly, “but I can’t live with you and the girls, not after what we’ve been through together.”
“Why not? What do you want? Name it and you can have it, whatever money can buy.”
She shook her head. She wanted something money couldn’t buy. A commitment. A ring on her finger. A ceremony. But she couldn’t ask. He had to offer. Something he wouldn’t do.
“Tonight,” he said, getting to his feet. “We’ll talk more tonight. Today I want to show you Rome.”
After a day of whirlwind sightseeing, Vittorio checked into the same hotel. One thing he knew for sure, he wasn’t leaving Rome until he’d convinced her to marry him. Why wouldn’t she? Then he realized as he stood on his balcony which adjoined hers, looking out on the fountains and pines of Rome that he’d never asked her to marry him. He’d just assumed he had. In the hotel lobby, he found a jewelry store. He muttered to himself on his way up to the room in the elevator, “If this doesn’t do it, I will have to think of something else.”
He couldn’t decide where to take her for dinner. A spectacular famous restaurant or a little trattoria on a side street. He chose the latter. When he knocked on her door she was wearing a silk dress that he’d never seen before. One of the ones he’d bought her? He couldn’t tell. All he knew was that she was the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen.
“I want you to know,” she said, after they were seated at a small table in the corner of the busy, popular restaurant, “that I appreciate your coming to Rome to show me around.”
“And to tell you that I love you, do you appreciate that too, or have I embarrassed you?”
She flushed. “No, of course not. I love you too. You know that. But…”
“I know what you’re going to say. I haven’t made myself very clear. I haven’t fallen in love for a long time and I’ve never fallen in love for good.”
“How do you know that?”
“How does anyone know anything?” he asked. “I just know that you are the woman I want to spend the rest of my life with. I think I knew it the first day you got off the ferry.”
“I thought you didn’t want me there.”
“I didn’t. I was afraid you’d come into my life and my heart and stay there. I was afraid to love again. But something happened. You and I were locked in the tower together. I can’t imagine anyone else I’d rather be locked up with. Can you?”
She smiled. The corners of her lovely mouth turned up and the smile reached her eyes.
“Not that it will happen again. We will have a talk with the girls about that. And besides it won’t be necessary. We will not need a tower. We will have the whole villa. We’ll have vacations in Sicily, Sardinia and even California so the girls can see Disneyland. How does that sound?” he asked.
“It sounds wonderful, Vittorio, but I can’t…”
“You can’t live with me and the twins until we’re married, is that what you were going to say?”
She stared at him for a long moment. Then she nodded.
“Then we’ll get married next week at the villa. In fact the girls told me on the phone that they’ve chosen their dresses already. That’s how much they believe in fairy tales and happily ever after.”
Sabrina felt the dining room spin around her. The only constant was Vittorio, his dark hair slightly disheveled, his eyes fixed on her, as he opened a small jewelry box and took out a diamond solitaire and slipped it on her finger.
“Do you believe, Sabrina, do you believe in happily ever after?”
“I do now,” she said softly. She reached for his hands across the table and held them tightly in hers. “The first day I saw you on your balcony from the ferry I knew it was you. I wanted to be part of your life, to know you and to love you. I’m sorry I left. I’ll never leave you again. I love you Vittorio. I want to be your wife. I will live with you anywhere, in a turret, in a villa, a cottage or a castle. Whether you claim your throne or not, you will always be my prince. You have made all my dreams come true.”
The End
In this delicious contemporary romance, Carol Grace whisks you away to Italy’s sunny Amalfi Coast, where whitewashed villas and fragrant lemon trees sit high atop craggy cliffs…and romance is always in the air.
Ever since high school, Anne Marie Jackson has dreamed of visiting Italy - a dream no doubt enflamed by Giovanni, the dashing exchange student she shared her first kiss with. Twenty-three years, one divorce, and one postcard from Giovanni later, Anne Marie decides to follow her heart to italy, where her former flame once promised to show her the sights.
Giovanni proves elusive but Marco Moretti – a mysterious, handsome Italian – seems to be everywhere she is. Anne Marie doesn’t know why the persistent, irrestible Marco wants to find Giovanni as badly as she does, or if her old friend’s in some kind of trouble – but she soon discovers that it’s her own heart that’s in danger…of falling head over heels for the man who insists on being her personal tour guide to true love.
“It’s a love song,” Marco said.
“But it sounds so sad,” Anne Marie whispered.
“Because it is sad. He is singing of his lost love. He remembers her hair, like dark clouds….” Marco leaned across the table and took a strand of Anne Marie’s hair between his fingers. “Like yours.”
She swallowed hard. It was just a song. But Marco was real. The heat from his body, the sound of his voice, the touch of his hand…they were real. She should stop him now, before she got lost in those dark eyes or got hypnotized by the sound of his voice.
“Her skin was as pale as marble,” Marco said, so softly she had to lean forward to catch the words. He traced a line on the inside of her bare arm to her wrist. She shivered in the warm night air, and her heart thudded wildly. “As soft as velvet, and her lips were kissed by the morning dew.”
Anne Marie knew what was coming next, and her lips trembled in anticipation…
http://www.amazon.com/Thats-Amore-ebook/dp/B006ZDEE8K/ref=sr_1_5?s=digital-text&ie=UTF8&qid=1327100654&sr=1-5
Read an Excerpt from Almost Married
Chapter One
Laurie Clayton, meet your goddaughter.”
Laurie held out her arms and took from her friend Gretel the most adorable baby she’d ever seen. The baby’s little fingers tangled in Laurie’s hair and her sweet smell filled her with a bittersweet longing for a child of her own. “Oh, Gret, she’s sooo cute. A perfect angel.”
Gretel sighed. “You wouldn’t say that if you’d heard her crying all the way down to the airport. She’s teething and it’s been awful.” Laurie hugged the baby to her and Morgan gurgled happily. “She likes you,” Gretel said, then surveyed her friend carefully. “Still slim, gorgeous and single. How come? I thought you’d be the first to take the plunge and have a family. You like kids so much.”
“Yes, well, it’s still customary to get married first,” Laurie said ruefully. “Like you did. Like my sister did.”
Gretel nodded understanding. “You wait here with Morgan. I’ll get the car from the garage and bring it around.”
Laurie hardly noticed Gretel was gone, she was so entranced with this baby, this miracle of soft skin and round, chubby cheeks. The baby gave her a toothless smile and Laurie thought she’d landed in paradise instead of Buffalo, New York.
“I’ll let you get over your jet lag tonight,” Gretel promised as they headed out of town into the fertile farmland of upstate New York where Gretel and her husband raised apples, “but tomorrow I’m going to give you the royal tour, from the museum to the zoo and last but not least, Niagara Falls!”
“All in one day?”
Gretel laughed. “We’ve got five whole days before I join Steve in Seattle. Plenty of time to see everything and let you get to know Morgan. If you’re sure you’re still up for baby-sitting for two weeks.” Gretel shot an anxious glance at her best friend.
Laurie turned her head to smile at her goddaughter. “Of course I’m up for it,” she assured Gretel. “I can’t wait to have her all to myself. You’re right, I’ve always liked kids. And I adore Morgan already. Her pictures don’t do her justice. You don’t have to entertain me. I’ll be happy to help out around the place. With Steve gone away to school, you must need help picking apples or something.”
“We’ve got a small staff who do the year-round stuff, spraying, grafting, but during harvest a whole crew comes in to work. By that time Steve will be back to oversee the whole thing.” She turned to smile at Laurie. “I’ve been waiting for you so we can relive those carefree days when we were young and foolish, when we flew from coast to coast, flight attendants without a care in the world except which restaurant to go to and which guy to go out with. We’ll put Morgan in the back seat with her teething ring and we’ll be off.”
Laurie noticed Morgan had nodded off and was sleeping peacefully in her car seat, her pale eyelashes dusting her fair skin, her cheeks the color of her pink dress.
“We’re in apple country now,” Gretel explained, waving her hand at the green fields dotted with heavily laden fruit trees, “one of New York state’s major crops.”
Laurie tore her eyes from the sleeping child to look out the window at the acres of trees, trying to pay attention to what Gretel was saying. Young and foolish. Laurie didn’t ever want to be young and foolish again, not foolish enough to fall in love with a married pilot and foolish enough to believe him when he said he loved her.
Gretel continued her lecture on the cultivation of apples until they arrived at a cobblestone house set on a rise above the orchard. Laurie stood in the living room of the vintage structure admiring the rustic furni
ture, the Native American blankets hanging on the wall and the huge old fireplace while Gretel rushed to answer the ringing telephone in the kitchen.
When Gretel reappeared with Morgan in her arms, her expression was anxious and her face a shade paler than before. “That was Steve,” she said. “He’s finished his agriculture course early and wants me to come right away.”
Laurie spread her arms out, palms up. “Well, why not? I’m here. You haven’t seen him in what, six weeks? You haven’t taken a vacation together since your honeymoon. I say go for it.”
Laurie hugged her daughter to her and sat down on the couch. “You’re right, I know you’re right. It’s just that—I’ve never even left Morgan overnight before. When you offered to stay with her I was—I am so grateful. But...” Gretel’s lower lip trembled as she buried her face in her daughter’s red curls.
Laurie watched the interplay between mother and daughter and her heart filled with sympathy and a touch of envy. If things had been different, if she’d been more sensible...
“It must sound silly to you,” Gretel went on, “but you’ll understand when you have a baby of your own.”
One of her own. Laurie felt a lump form in her throat. With her luck she had small hope of having one of her own, let alone finding a man to have a baby with. She nodded at Gretel. “I understand perfectly.”
“You’re a true friend,” Gretel said earnestly, “the best. Don’t think I don’t appreciate what you’re offering, staying with a teething baby while I fly off to take a second honeymoon. If I weren’t such a worry-wart… Come on,” Gretel said, getting to her feet. “You must be tired. I’ll show you your room. I told Steve I’d sleep on it and let him know tomorrow.”
The guest room was furnished in the same style as the rest of the house, with a handmade quilt on the antique iron bed frame and a large oak armoire against the wall. After Gretel said good-night and took the baby with her down the hall, Laurie sat on the edge of the bed, her stocking feet resting on a handwoven braid rug, and tried to stifle the feelings of envy that threatened to engulf her. A charming old house, a husband and a baby. What more could anyone want?
