“I studied fashion design,” Tess said defensively. “I can’t wait to be a part of it!”
“Sure, as his trophy wife. Not a designer.”
Tears rose to Tess’s eyes.
“You hush,” Hallie told Lola harshly. “Don’t listen to her,” she said, patting Tess’s hand.
“I’m just trying to save you from a lot of grief,” Lola said flatly. “The fact that he’s a billionaire only makes it worse. Because billionaires don’t know how to love anyone.” Her eyes were bleak. “I know.”
“Excuse me,” Hallie said.
“Except your husband, Hallie. He’s one in a million.” Lola’s face gentled into a smile. Then she shook her head. “Doesn’t Cristiano have anything to say about this wedding? He hates Stefano Zacco!”
Hallie shrugged. “Cristiano says since Tess has a child with Stefano, she must see something good in him, and on her own head be it.” She grinned. “I think my husband must be remembering that I didn’t always think so highly of him, either.”
Slowly Lola picked up her bridesmaid’s bouquet in a rustle of rose petals. “I think it’s a mistake to leave your family and friends, and get married after a one-day engagement to a man you barely know.” Wiping her eyes, she tried to smile. “But, of all people, you deserve the fairy tale, Tess. If you’re sure Stefano’s the one, then I wish you every happiness. I...” Her voice broke. “I’ll see you in there.”
The blonde hurried out of the room.
“She’s just worried about you,” Hallie said.
Tess looked at herself in the full-length mirror. Stefano had arranged for one of his smaller luxury fashion brands, Fontana, to make her a lavish wedding dress. The gown was exquisite, made of white satin, with full skirts and a corset bodice with a sweetheart neckline. The edges were embroidered with tiny diamonds, and so was the long white veil that trailed down her back, over her red hair that was pulled back into a chignon. Anchoring the veil was a 300-year-old diamond tiara, an heirloom of the Zacco family.
Her green eyes were lined with black kohl and mascara, her lips ruby red with lipstick. As Tess looked at herself in the mirror, she barely recognized herself. But in spite of the gown, the veil and the tiara, she suddenly thought she didn’t look right for a bride. There wasn’t any joy in her expression. Her eyes were scared.
“This is your life, and Esme’s,” Hallie said quietly, handing Tess her bridal bouquet of pink roses. “Trust your heart. It will tell you what’s right.”
Slowly taking her bouquet, Tess thought of how she’d felt when Stefano had pulled her into his arms in the bakery and demanded that she become his bride. Everyone had been so happy for her. In that moment, she’d felt like the luckiest girl on earth. Wasn’t she?
And the decision was already made.
Wasn’t it?
Taking a deep breath, Tess turned to Hallie. “Could you ask Stefano to come talk to me?”
“Right now?”
“Yes. Just for a moment, here in private?”
Hallie’s eyes widened, then she said quietly, “Of course. I’ll go get him. Then I’ll wait in the hall for...for whatever you decide,” she finished lamely. She left, closing the door softly behind her.
Tess looked out at the golden afternoon sunlight pouring through the window. Setting down her bouquet, she placed her hands against the corset boning of her gown’s bodice, trying to make herself take long, slow breaths instead of panicked little gasps. Why was she suddenly so afraid?
Closing her eyes, Tess had the sudden memory of the day long ago when her mother had collapsed on their old shabby sofa, sobbing, unable to catch her breath.
“It’s over,” Serena Foster had choked out, whispering, “He’s never coming back.”
“Who?” Tess had asked anxiously. Just eight years old, she’d been alarmed to see her determinedly cheerful mother fall apart without warning.
Shaking her head, her mother had wiped her eyes and tried to smile. “It doesn’t matter.”
“Pinkie loves you, Mama,” Tess had said desperately, pushing her ragged pink unicorn into her mother’s arms. “And so do I.”
“Thank you, darling.” Hugging Tess fiercely, Serena had wiped her eyes. “I was stupid to love him. But he’s a bigger fool by far...”
Tess opened her eyes when she heard a single knock at the door. It creaked half open.
“This is a bad idea,” came Stefano’s gravelly voice from the other side. “I don’t generally care about wedding traditions, but even I know the groom isn’t supposed to see the bride before the ceremony.”
Her heart lifted at hearing his voice. She knew once they talked she’d feel better. “I don’t care. Just come in. I need you.”
Stefano peeked his head around the door, then came toward her in the hotel’s luxurious private sitting room.
In his well-cut tuxedo, Stefano looked powerful, broad shouldered and devastatingly handsome. His dark eyes widened above his chiseled cheekbones when he saw Tess in her wedding gown. “You are so beautiful, cara.” As he took her in his arms, the hard lines of his face glowed with fierce pride. “I can hardly wait to take you as my wife.”
Taking a deep breath, she said timidly, “But you don’t love me, do you?”
Stefano blinked, then pulled back, his forehead furrowed. “What?”
Nervously she licked her lips. “I’m just wondering if we’re doing the right thing,” she whispered, staring down at the elegant Turkish rug on the gleaming hardwood floor. “I mean, we don’t love each other. I’m wondering...if someday you think we might... I’m just scared this whole thing might be a terrible mistake.”
Her words seemed to echo against the walls. She waited desperately for him to kiss her, to reassure her. Instead, he said nothing. Finally she looked up.
Stefano’s dark eyes were cold as ice. The expression on his handsome face chilled her to the bone.
“You wish to cancel the wedding?” he said softly. “To disgrace my name? To take my child away?”
What she’d wanted was reassurance. This was exactly the opposite. “All I want is for us to talk—”
“Is there another man?”
“No, of course not!”
“But you are having second thoughts.” He gave her a bitter smile. “Or is this a ploy to renegotiate the prenuptial agreement you signed yesterday?”
“No!” Why would she want to alter the prenup? She’d barely read it. She took a deep breath. “I’m afraid.”
“And I am afraid,” he said with dangerous silkiness, “that you already gave me your word. We have a verbal contract. It’s done.”
Tess herself had thought something similar just moments before—that the decision had already been made, so there was no backing out. But hearing him speak the words like a threat made her back stiffen. “What are you saying?”
His eyes narrowed.
“You’re wearing my ring.” He looked down at the big diamond on her left hand. “You will take my name. You will be my wife, and we will raise our daughter. Our wedding will go forward as planned.”
She tried to toss her head, not easy when it was weighed down with a heavy diamond tiara. “Maybe I won’t!”
His lips twisted. Reaching out, he cupped her cheek, running his