Giving a contented sigh, she asked him if he had ever considered wearing his boots to bed.
His throaty burst of laughter rang out.
EPILOGUE
THERE was a gentle ripple of applause as the slim redhead walked into the room on the arm of a man with the looks of a dark fallen angel. She smiled and dipped her head in acknowledgement to the New York crowd.
‘I think I’m dreaming,’ she whispered to the man who walked beside her.
‘No, cara, you’re living the dream,’ he told her. ‘Go mingle—you’re the star of this show.’ For him she was the star of his life.
‘Do I have to?’
He smiled encouragement. ‘They’ll love you, just smile and look enigmatic.’
The advice made her grin. ‘You know what I’m afraid of?’ ‘What?’
‘I’m afraid that someone is going to realise I’m a complete fake. I mean, why is this happening to me? I’m not special.’
‘You’re the most special person I have ever met, and, as for being a fake, I knew you were the real thing the moment I laid eyes on you. I just don’t know how you do it,’ he admitted.
‘Do what?’ she asked.
He was the best-looking man in the room by a mile and after eighteen months of marriage Erin still looked at him sometimes and couldn’t believe she had got that lucky.
‘You’re an incredible mother, you’re an award-winning photographer, it’s in no
small part due to your efforts that my mother is her old self and, oh … I almost forgot—you’re a fairly passable wife.’
Erin smiled back at him. ‘What can I say? I’m brilliant!’
The past year and a bit had been incredible for her. Rafael was the most delicious baby in the world and looked just like his papa.
Rafael was a baby who seemed to bring out the best in people—even Erin’s mother had been moved to tears when she’d first seen him, though she had not quite forgiven Erin for making her a granny. She wanted little Rafe to call her by her Christian name.
And she remained totally mystified by Erin’s refusal to employ a personal trainer to get her figure back after the birth, hinting strongly that Francesco would look elsewhere unless she made an effort to compete with all those young lovelies with taut tummies.
But Erin’s insecurities were well in the past and, secure in the knowledge that Francesco was totally devoted to her, Erin had been able to laugh at her mother’s dire warnings. Besides, Francesco had expressed no complaints about any part of her anatomy. He had even found her sexy when she had been the size of a small supermarket … which was odd, but nice.
Rafe’s other grandma was not concerned about her daughter-in-law’s waistline—in her eyes giving birth to little Rafe had elevated Erin’s status to a level where she was above criticism. She adored her little grandson and had come with them to New York so that she could look after him while Francesco and Erin attended the opening night of Erin’s new exhibition.
After some heated discussion on the subject Francesco had reluctantly conceded on the subject of a nanny. And when he had seen that, far from being exhausted—beyond what was normal—by the task of bringing up baby the new mother had thrived he had stopped worrying.
Of course, in the future she might rethink the nanny ban because in about seven months’ time Rafael would have some company.
The news that she was carrying twins was still sinking in!
Francesco was still inclined to stop dead in the middle of the street without warning and say, ‘Twins!’ Which made people stare at him.
After her labour with Rafael he had declared that his son was definitely going to be an only child because he could not go through that ever again!
Erin still had seven months to convince him that to try for a normal birth with twins was not really quite as recklessly stupid as he contended.
The London exhibition the previous year had been a massive success and it had kick started her new career. She now had her photos hanging in galleries and private collections all over Europe and after tonight who knew? Maybe the States, too.
But no matter how her career went for Erin, her family was the most important thing in her life. And within that tight circle it was Francesco who made her believe she could succeed, he enhanced every aspect of her life just because he was there.
Francesco bent his head and whispered in his wife’s ear. ‘How do you always make my heart beat faster?’