A Ring for Vincenzo's Heir

Vin ducked his head, looking embarrassed. After all the work he’d put into the deal, his boyish humility made her more proud of him than ever. And love him more than ever.

Finally, after they returned home, after he tucked their sleeping baby into his crib, he took Scarlett to bed, too. She relished the warmth of him, the strength of him, the feel of him beside her.

She’d missed him for those two weeks.

It scared her how much she needed him now.

This time, as Vin made love to her, he held her gently, tenderly, looking deeply into her eyes. But his own eyes were carefully blank.

He touched her as if his fingertips wished to tell her everything he could not put into words. She tried to guess. He was sorry? He regretted their fight—which had been so awful, so brutal to her heart? That he hadn’t lied when he said he loved her?

He made her body explode with ecstasy as he poured into her with a groan, then afterward he held her all night, snugly against his chest, in a way he’d never done before.

Cradled against him, with his strong arms around her, Scarlett felt protected. She decided she was imagining things, creating problems where they didn’t exist. They were husband and wife. They were partners in life. They were in love.

She woke up smiling for the first time in two weeks. She heard a morning bird singing outside and stretched, yawning, every bit of her body feeling deliciously satisfied. How could she be anything other than happy? Vin was home at last. And today was Maria’s wedding day.

Whatever conflicts arose between her and Vin, they’d work through them. Maybe they’d live in Rome for half the year, New York the other half.

She looked over at his side of the bed, but it was empty.

Scarlett started to get out of bed in her negligee, when she heard the bedroom door kick open. Startled, she saw Vin, wearing only a towel wrapped around his trim waist, holding a breakfast tray with a rose in a small bud vase.

“You brought me breakfast?” Scarlett said in surprise. “But you must be exhausted. You traveled so long yesterday...”

“Exactly. I left you here alone to take care of Nico and my sister’s wedding and all the rest. It’s time I took care of you for a change.” His dark eyes crinkled as he smiled, setting the tray on her lap, over the white comforter.

“By the way,” he said casually as he turned away, “I’ve left some papers on the tray for you to sign. They’re under the rose.”

Frowning, Scarlett looked down. “What kind of papers?”

“No big deal.” He shrugged. “Just to officially mark that you are my wife. For the Italian authorities.”

She glanced at the top sheet. It was written in Italian and did seem to say something about being his wife. But her Italian language skills, in spite of her recent study, weren’t strong enough to sort through the indecipherable legalese. She hesitated. “My dad always said only a fool signs something he doesn’t understand. I should get it translated before I sign it.”

“Sure, whatever you want,” he said carelessly as he left the room. A minute later, he returned with a carafe. Coming back to the bed, he poured steaming coffee into a china cup, adding liberal amounts of cream and sugar, then put it on her tray, smiling down at her tenderly. “From now on, I’m going to take better care of you. Treat you like you deserve. Like a princess. Like a queen.”

Looking up at him, Scarlett’s heart twisted with love.

“Enjoy your breakfast, cara.” He cracked a sudden grin. “I’m going to take a shower. Feel free to join me if you’re feeling—” he lifted a teasing eyebrow “—dirty.”

With a whistle, he turned away, dropping his towel to the floor. Scarlett’s lips parted at the delicious view of her husband’s muscular backside before he disappeared into the bathroom. It took several seconds before she was able to focus again.

She looked down at the papers, thinking of everything she had to do today before the evening wedding. After weeks of procrastination, she still hadn’t figured out what to wear. She desperately wanted to look good at the formal event, to show her respect to Maria and the rest of Vin’s family. But she dreaded the pressure of scouring the chic designer shops of Rome. She always felt like a chubby bumpkin. The thought of also going to look for an English-speaking lawyer to translate and advise her felt like one unpleasant task too many.