‘Well, you know how it is, Jac.’ Deliberately vague, Vieri shifted his weight from one leg to the other, checking his watch again.
The two men were standing beside the altar of the chapel, waiting for the bride to appear. The small congregation was chattering amongst themselves, the priest bending down to talk to Alfonso, who had had his wheelchair positioned right at the front so that he would miss nothing.
‘I’m not sure I do.’ Jaco gave his friend a sideways glance. ‘I thought we had both agreed that the whole marriage thing wasn’t for us.’
‘Well, yes.’ Vieri tugged at the sleeve of his shirt. ‘But things change, don’t they?’
‘And would this sudden change be anything to do with your godfather?’ Jaco narrowed his eyes. ‘I understand he doesn’t have a lot longer on this earth.’
‘I want to make him happy, Jac. It’s the least I can do.’
‘Even so, getting married... Isn’t that a bit extreme?’
Vieri shrugged and Jaco followed his gaze in the direction of Alfonso, who looked up and gave them a beaming smile.
‘There’s your answer.’ Vieri returned his eyes to the front. ‘That look has got to be worth a bit of self-sacrifice.’
‘If you say so, old friend.’ Jaco patted Vieri on the shoulder. ‘If you say so.’
With a low rumble and a couple of hollow squeaks, the organ music started up and the congregation fell silent. Moving into position in front of the altar, Vieri stood tall and straight, pushing back his shoulders, gazing up at the arched stained-glass window. As the slightly wheezy strains of Vivaldi’s Primavera filled the intimate but echoing space he found himself saying a silent prayer, asking for guidance, or absolution, or at least some sort of indication that he really was doing the right thing. For suddenly this wedding felt terrifyingly real.
A sharp dig in the ribs from his friend interrupted his thoughts. ‘Self-sacrifice, eh?’ With a low laugh, Jaco, who had been looking over his shoulder, returned to face the front. ‘I’m not sure that’s what I’d call it. She’s a stunner Vieri.’
But Vieri had no time to reply. With a swish of silk Harper had come to stand beside him and finally he turned to look at her, only for the breath to be sucked from his lungs. Because she looked exquisite. The simple dress sheathed her gentle curves and slithered to the floor. She carried a small bouquet of white gardenia, with a single bloom tucked into her hair behind one ear, and as he stared at her a shaft of coloured light flickered over her face and down her body, giving her an ethereal, almost other-worldly appearance.
Vieri forced himself to drag in some air. He had never expected this, to have such a visceral reaction to his bride, so strong that it threatened to undo him completely. He told himself that it had to be guilt, for what he was making her do, what he was putting her through. But the way his mind was already slipping the silky garment down her body, his fingers itching to explore the exposed skin beneath, had nothing to do with guilt. Neither did the inexplicable surge of emotion that had suddenly consumed him, coming out of nowhere, so strong that it burned behind his eyes, held his muscles taut. It was a wave of tenderness, of possessiveness. The feeling, no, the certainty that Harper would be his and his alone. From this day forth.
They held each other’s gaze and for a split second Vieri saw all the torment and confusion he was experiencing reflected in Harper’s remarkable hazel eyes. And the desire. Yes, she felt it too, no matter how much she might try and deny it. That, at least, gave salve to his masculine pride.
The priest gave a small cough, opening the heavy bible in his hands, preparing to start the ceremony. But he had barely uttered more than a few words from the opening address before the door at the rear of the chapel squeaked open, then closed again, followed by footsteps hastening down the aisle that defied all but the most stoic not to turn and see who this latecomer might be.
‘Sorry, sorry.’ There was no mistaking that accent or who it belonged to as the apologies continued and the guests shuffled along to make room for her at the end of a pew.
‘Leah!’ Harper had turned to look at her sister, whispering her name in astonishment before frantically mouthing, What are you doing here?
Seated now, Leah gave her an apologetic grin, followed by a little wave, which turned into a dismissive gesture to get on with it.
Harper turned back to the front. ‘Your doing, I take it?’ she whispered under her breath, her eyes fixed straight ahead, but there was a smile in her voice.
Vieri shrugged in admission. It was true he had ignored Harper’s instructions not to invite her sister, going behind her back and sending Leah the money for her flight here. He wasn’t even sure why he’d done it, except that he had strongly felt that it was time Harper’s family supported her, instead of it always being the other way round. It was time they realised just how lucky they were to have her.
When Leah hadn’t shown this morning he had written her off, assumed she had just taken the money, ripped him off again. But it seemed he had been wrong.
‘There are two of them?’ To his right he heard Jaco utter his astonishment but Vieri wasn’t going to start explaining now. He would, however, put his friend right about that young woman the first chance he got. If ever anyone had trouble written through them like a stick of rock, she did.
* * *
As Harper took her seat at the head of the table she hardly recognised the ancient dining room that had been transformed for the wedding breakfast. The draughty, echoing room had had a serious makeover: colourful antique rugs covered the cold flagstone floor, red velvet chairs replaced the uncomfortable carved wooden ones, and the table had been beautifully laid with a white damask tablecloth set with silver gilt cutlery and sparkling crystal. Arrangements of winter flowers, interspersed with cream candles in gilt candlesticks, ran the length of the table. In fact there were candles everywhere, positioned on the polished wood furniture at the sides of the room and in the heavy iron candelabra above their heads. A roaring fire blazed in the enormous grate.
‘The wedding planners have done a good job.’ Vieri eased himself into the seat beside her. ‘I’ll have to remember to use them again.’
‘For your next wedding, do you mean?’ Avoiding his eyes, Harper smiled sweetly at the assembled guests as she shook out her napkin and placed it on her lap.
‘I actually meant commercially—my hotels host a lot of weddings.’ Vieri gave her a dark stare. ‘I have no intention of marrying again.’
‘Oh, my mistake.’ Accepting a glass of wine from the waiter, Harper let her shoulders drop from where they had been hovering up around her ears. They were married now, deed was done, there was no point in being all prickly with Vieri. That would solve nothing. She might just as well relax and enjoy the meal as best she could.
She cast her eyes down the long table. Leah was sitting about halfway down, next to Vieri’s friend, Jaco. Harper had to admit it was lovely to have her here, and secretly she was touched that Vieri had gone to the trouble of arranging it. She couldn’t hear what they were saying but under Jaco’s instruction Leah was swilling the wine around in her glass, then holding it to her nose to inhale the bouquet. Jaco was laughing.
At the far end of the table, Alfonso was holding court with a couple of elderly friends. Feeling Harper’s eyes on him, he looked up and smiled, raising his glass.
‘Look at him.’ Vieri leant in closer and immediately Harper’s senses leapt about in response. ‘I can’t remember the last time I saw him so happy.’ Raising his own glass in return,