A Dark Sicilian Secret

His grandmother Theresa put a hand on Joseph’s shoulder and tried to steer her grandson toward the front of the chapel, but Joseph squawked in protest.

Checking his smile, Vitt stepped down from the stone steps before the altar and placed his son on his father’s lap.

“Vittorio,” his mother said softly, reprovingly, slim and chic as ever in a pale silvery-gray fitted gown.

Vitt shrugged. “It’s his day, too. He should sit where he wants, and if he wants his grandfather, who am I to say no?”

Salvatore smiled at Vitt and then down at Joseph as the little boy squirmed to get closer to Salvatore’s chest.

Vittorio clapped his father on the shoulder and then returned to the front of the church as the string quartet played the first bright notes by Vivaldi.

Jillian appeared in the arched doors at the back of the chapel. The ends of the pews were decorated with flowers. The old stone chapel glowed with candlelight. Guests crowded the pews but Jillian only had eyes for Vittorio who looked impossibly handsome in his black tux and white dress shirt with the white tie.

Hers, she thought, on a quick breath. He was hers. And she knew he’d always be hers.

Her lover. Her partner. Her husband.

She walked down the aisle on her own, her ivory gown rustling, her legs shaking with every step, yet knowing that once she reached the front of the chapel she’d never be alone again. She’d have Vittorio. She’d have his family. They’d be a family.

Reaching the front of the chapel, Vitt stepped forward to take her hand. His beautiful face looked somber in the candlelight but then he smiled and love raced through her, love, desire and joy.

The ceremony passed in a blur, with Jillian seeing nothing but Vittorio’s beautiful face and dark eyes. They said their vows, exchanged rings, kissed as her heart turned over.

She was home.

She finally belonged somewhere.

And then the ceremony was over and she was walking with Vittorio down the aisle. The chapel smelled of gardenias and orange blossoms and the soft candlelight reflected off the arched ceiling and the high stone walls. Faces smiled at them as they passed the crowded pews, but then they were alone in the small antechamber. It was dark and blissfully cool.

Vittorio dropped his head, kissed her and kissed her again.

“I love you,” he said as the chapel bells pealed high overhead.

“Even though your family was shocked when you told them who I was yesterday?”

“They’re fine. They’re used to drama,” he answered with a grin. “I don’t know what we’d do without some excitement.”

Jillian tried to smile but tears filled her eyes. “You’re too good to me.”

“Impossible. You deserve so much happiness.”

“You’ve made me happier than I ever dreamed I could be.”

“Good. I’m glad.” He tipped her chin up so he could look into her eyes. “I have loved you since you walked through the lobby of the Ciragan Palace in your black management suit with your midheight heels. You were the picture of efficiency and yet somehow you stole my heart. I’d never thought about settling down and then suddenly all I wanted was to marry you and take care of you forever, and I mean that Jill Anne Carol Lee, I do.”

She sniffed and laughed, her fragrant bouquet crushed between them. “You can just call me Jill. It’s shorter.”

“Not Alessia?”

Jillian shuddered. “Never Alessia. She’s gone. Dead. But oh, I do like being your Jill. I like it more than anything.”

He smoothed her crisp white veil back from her face and then caressed one of her dark red curls that rested on her bare collarbone. “And I love your green eyes and your red hair and your infamous family history,” he said, before glancing over his shoulder, aware that any moment the doors would open and family and friends would pour out. “I love everything about you.”

Jillian laughed and lifted her lips for him to kiss her, and then kiss her again. “Good,” she murmured against his lips, “because you’ve got me now.”

“Finally.” He gazed down at her, his dark eyes holding hers for an endless moment before he whispered in Sicilian. “T’amu bidduzza.” I love you, beautiful.

Eyes stinging, heart overflowing, she reached up, touched Vitt’s lean bronzed cheek, dazzled by joy. “I can’t believe it.”