“You’re only saying that because you’re desperate.”
“You’re absolutely right. I am desperate. I’m desperate for you to stay. I’m desperate to salvage what’s left of our wedding day. Today was horrendous, but we still have the night—”
“No.”
“Yes. We have the night, and we have every night from now on. I’m not going to let you go. This is your home now. You belong here, with me.” He moved toward her, a slow walk to match his measured words. “Rachel, I didn’t have to marry.”
“But you did. The media…the company going public…you couldn’t have the scandal.”
“Money is money. I have plenty of it, but money doesn’t buy happiness and I would never, ever marry just to protect my financial interests or investments.”
“But you said—”
“It was a tactic.” He shrugged, unrepentant. “I wanted you here. I wanted you with me. And yes, I want Michael, but I want you every bit as much. From the moment you appeared on my doorstep, you’ve been mine. I waited thirty-eight years to find someone like you. You can’t think I’m just going to give you up?”
Her head spun. He was saying the right words, all the things she’d wanted him to say, but why did he wait so long? Why hadn’t he shared all of this before? “You just don’t want me to go.”
“You’re right. I didn’t marry you in an extravagant, romantic wedding to lose my bride before the honeymoon.”
She drew a quick, sharp breath. “There will be no honeymoon.”
“Of course there will, but there won’t be if you leave.”
He was trying a new tactic, she thought, and she didn’t want to be intrigued but she couldn’t help showing a little interest. “Why haven’t you mentioned it before?” she asked suspiciously.
“Because it was supposed to be a surprise.”
She wished she wasn’t curious. She wished she didn’t care. But she did care, not about the trip, but about what he might have planned for her. For them. “Where were we going to go?”
“Ravello, on the Amalfi Coast.”
Rachel drew a quick, shallow breath, feeling far too many emotions, not the least being regret. “Were we going to take Michael?”
“No. Not on our honeymoon. I wanted time alone with you, my bride, my wife, my heart.” He reached for her and drew her toward him, little by little, step by step, ignoring her resistance.
Or maybe it was because she didn’t resist very much.
Rachel was exhausted. It had been a roller coaster of a day, up and down, and down and down, and even though she didn’t want to care for him, she did. Her love wasn’t a flimsy thing, but strong and deep and true.
“You have hurt me so much today,” she whispered as he pulled her against him. She rested her cheek on his chest, his arm tight around her.
“I am sorry. I didn’t want to bring those letters to you before the wedding, but how could I share them with you after?” He stroked her hair, and then down her back. “That would have been even worse. And so even though the timing was awful, I did what I thought was right. Shared with you everything I knew.”
“Even though it meant ruining our day.”
“I’d rather we ruin a day than start our marriage with a lie.”
Rachel closed her eyes and breathed him in, needing his arms right now, and his warmth. She needed him and loved him, for better or worse. “And what would you do with me on our honeymoon?”
“I would make love to you three or four times a day. I would love you until you felt secure and understood that you’re the only woman I have ever wanted to marry. I did not marry you out of obligation or to satisfy the international stock market.”
She tipped her head back to look up at him. His bright blue eyes glinted with tenderness and humor.
“It’s true,” he added, his expression changing, the laughter giving way to a focused intensity. “I married you, bella, because I love you. And just in case you need to hear it again, Rachel, bella, ti amo. I love you. I love you. Do you understand?”
Her heart was beating a mile a minute. “I think so.”
“You’re not convinced?”
“Not entirely. Not yet.”
“What else can I do?”
She touched her tongue to her upper lip, dampening it. “Take me on that honeymoon?”
He grinned, and then his grin faded and he kissed her, a long, searing, bone-melting kiss. “We leave tomorrow,” he said. “And we’d better sort out our birth control, or you’ll be pregnant before you know it.”