‘It was a perfect day,’ Nicole said softly. ‘Perfetto. I liked your brother’s latest girlfriend and I thought your sister looked very well.’
So much had happened since that day when Rocco had walked onto the aircraft and declared his love for her in front of a planeload of passengers. Approaching their future in an orderly way, her husband had accompanied her back to Cornwall, to help her find someone to take over her little shop—someone who would cherish it as much as she had done.
They had returned to resume their married life in Sicily—not just because Turi was old and frail, but because Nicole found herself valuing the simplicity of life there. And this time she felt she belonged. This time she was no longer the outsider with no legitimate place. Rocco had sold the Monaco apartment and started delegating as much work as possible, in order to spend as much time with the people who really mattered.
His family. The twin daughters who had him wrapped around their little fingers, and now his new son. And Nicole, of course. A day didn’t pass without him telling her that she was key to his happiness and none of this could have happened without her.
He had built her a studio with a kiln where, whenever Lucia and Sofia allowed her a rare spare moment, Nicole would craft the vases and the bowls which were gaining her something of a reputation. She had already exhibited in Palermo and Rocco had spoken about buying her a shop there, but she’d told him not to rush anything. That there was a time and a place for ambition and she wanted to enjoy the gifts she had been given. She wanted to give silent thanks that three children had now worn a little romper suit which had lain unused in a drawer for so long...
‘Are you sleepy, tesoro?’ Rocco’s softly accented voice broke into her thoughts.
She shook her head. ‘Not in the slightest.’
‘Then shall we sit outside? Drink some limonata on the terrace and watch the stars unfold?’
The complex was quiet after the excitement of the party, which had included most of the villagers and gone on throughout the afternoon and well into the evening. Nicole had listened to smatterings of conversation and had understood most of them, because she had quickly realised that becoming fluent in her husband’s language was a necessity and not a hobby. She recognised that communication was key, so she had knuckled down to regular one-to-one lessons with a local schoolteacher and was growing more confident with each day. It amused Rocco no end to hear his English wife calling to him in dialect!
The ice was chinking in her glass and the sweet-sharp limonata made from the estate’s lemons was cool and refreshing. Above them the darkening indigo sky had begun to glimmer with the promise of the brightest stars Nicole had ever seen and she sighed.
Did Rocco hear her? Was that why his head turned towards her.
‘Felici?’ he questioned softly.
‘Oh, yes. Totally happy,’ she said.
Rocco smiled. Who would have realised he could find everything he wanted here, in the arms of his beautiful wife, amid his rapidly expanding family? Sometimes he thought about how much Nicole had taught him. How to face up to your feelings, even if they brought you pain—because with pain came understanding and, from that, true contentment. She had taught him how to love and in so doing had taught him how to live.
He glanced over at her, where she had kicked off her sandals and was wiggling toes which were painted a violent shade of orange. She tied her hair back much more frequently these days because the twins tended to use the thick strands like ropes—but tonight she had shaken the curls free so that they flowed down her back in a dark cascade. Her ankle-length dress in filmy pink chiffon was still more Boho than classic, but that was okay. She looked beautiful in whatever she wore—and she was an artist, after all.
She glanced up to find his gaze trained on her and raised her eyebrows.
‘What?’ she said.
He moved his shoulders a little restlessly as the heat in his body began to rise. ‘I was just wondering if perhaps we might have an early night...’
The answering glint in her eyes answered his question and as he rose from his chair she held up her hands so that he could pull her to her feet.
‘You must have read my mind,’ she whispered.
‘I wonder if you can read mine?’ came his answering growl.
She giggled. ‘Rocco Barberi, you are a terrible man.’
‘I know,’ he said, lacing his fingers in hers and leading her towards their house. ‘And that’s one of the reasons why you love me.’
* * * * *
Cathy Williams
“This is crazy! You’re my client!”
But can Ellie ignore Niccolo’s scandalous suggestion?
Straitlaced Ellie Wilson has eyes only for her job...until she meets outrageously gorgeous Niccolo Rossi, and is persuaded to step out of her comfort zone! When they jet off to his deluxe Caribbean resort, Ellie’s advertising pitch suddenly involves her playing girlfriend to his notorious playboy. But soon seduction may be the only item on Niccolo’s agenda...
To my three wonderful and inspiring daughters.
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