His Lost-and-Found Bride

She put her elbows on the bridge next to him. The sun was beating down now, rising high in the sky above them. She gave a nervous laugh. ‘That’s the one thing that doesn’t happen quickly. Probably around a few months.’

‘And it will be definitely you who does the work?’

Was it possible he didn’t want her to be working next to him, no matter what he’d been saying? Maybe Logan was only looking for a quiet life. Maybe he was only trying to keep her onside to make sure his project didn’t miss his deadline?

But he didn’t look unhappy. He still had that determined gleam in his eye. He pointed to a baker’s shop on the other side of the bridge. ‘Why don’t we grab some food and head back to the apartment? It’s going to be too hot for sightseeing this afternoon and we both have work we can probably do before dinner tonight.’

She gave a nod of her head. It made sense—even if the thought of sharing her apartment space with Logan all afternoon made it feel as if the walls would close in around her.

‘Where are we going later?’ she asked, as they walked over the other side of the bridge.

He tapped the side of his nose. ‘Leave that to me.’

CHAPTER SEVEN

IT WAS RIDICULOUS and he knew it. Why did he feel as if so much rested on one night?

He’d planned everything to perfection, pulling strings wherever he could. What he wanted most was for Lucia to be relaxed around him, maybe just enough to let her guard down and let him in.

It sounded cold, it sounded calculating. It was anything but.

He needed her to open up to him, to talk to him. It’s what they both needed in order to move on with their lives.

It didn’t matter that he had hopes for the direction in which they moved. He had to push those aside right now. He wanted her to talk. He couldn’t see any further forward than that.

‘Are you ready?’

He’d been pacing in the main room for the last half hour, watching the sun beginning to lower in the sky, bathing Venice in a beautiful orange glow.

‘I’m ready.’ Her voice sounded a little shaky and he spun around.

She looked a picture. The red dress was exactly as he’d envisaged it, hugging her curves in all the right places. He’d known as soon as he’d seen it that it was perfect for her. A red jersey underlay with red crochet lace on top, it reached her knees and only gave the tiniest hint of skin underneath. Lucia had never liked anything too revealing.

She was wearing her black patent impossibly high heels with red soles and clutching a sequin bag in her hand. But something wasn’t quite right.

She flicked her long hair on her shoulders and meshed her fingers together. Lucia was wound tighter than a spring.

He walked over and handed her a glass of red wine. ‘Let’s sit down for five minutes. We have time.’

He gestured towards the chaise longue.

She waited a few seconds. Her nerves seemed to emanate from her, and even the hand holding the glass had an almost imperceptible shake. After a few moments she sucked in a deep breath and walked across the room.

‘Thank you for the dress. It’s perfect,’ she said simply, as she sat down and crossed her legs.

‘I knew it would suit you,’ he said calmly. ‘You look stunning.’ It was true and he was quite sure that every man in Venice who saw her would agree during the course of the evening.

She took a sip of her wine. ‘Are you going to tell me where we are going for dinner?’

He smiled. ‘We’re in Venice. We’re going to Rubins overlooking Piazza San Marco. Where else would we go?’

A hint of a smile appeared on her face as she relaxed back and took another sip of wine. ‘How on earth did you manage that? You couldn’t find a hotel room, but you managed to get into the most exclusive restaurant in Venice?’

He wrinkled his nose. ‘Let’s just say I might have helped them at some point with an architectural matter. Unfortunately, they don’t have beds for the night—so dinner it is.’

He actually couldn’t believe his luck. The restaurant overlooking Piazza San Marco and based in the Procuratie Nuove had had issues a few years ago when some of the stonework around the elaborate archways had started to crumble. Logan had been able to help them find the same stone, from the original source, to allow complete restoration. It hadn’t been an easy task. And right now he would take any advantage he could get.

They sat for a few minutes longer, watching the world go by on the Grand Canal, as she finished her wine.

He stood up and held out his hand towards her. ‘Are we ready?’

She nodded and slid her hand into his. The momentum of pulling her up made them almost bump noses and she laughed and put her hands on his chest. ‘Where did this dark suit come from? You surely didn’t have this in your bag?’

He shook his head. ‘I picked it up an hour ago when you were getting ready. I think you’ve seen enough of the cream jacket and trousers.’

Her eyes ran up and down his body. It was amazing how that tiny act could make his hairs stand on end and make him feel distinctly hot under the collar.

She gave an approving nod. ‘I like it,’ she said as she stepped away. ‘I like it even more that you didn’t bother with a tie.’ She spun towards him in her heels. ‘I never did like a man in a tie.’

His heart leapt in his chest. Her mood was lifting. She was definitely beginning to relax. He caught her elbow and spun her back towards him, resting his other hand on her hip.

He wanted this to be the start of something new. He wanted a chance to make things work with the only woman he’d ever really loved.

He knew they both had to move on. He knew they might not be able to move on together. And he knew at some point they had to talk about Ariella Rose.

But his heart was squeezing in his chest.

Ton

ight could be perfect. Tonight could just be about them. And somehow he knew that if he gave her the guarantee of no pressure, it could change everything.

‘What do you say that for tonight I promise you that I won’t mention Ariella Rose. We won’t talk about what happened. And we’ll only concentrate on the here and now. We’ll only concentrate on the good things.’

He slid his hand through her silky soft hair.

She’d outlined her eyes in black and put on some lipstick that matched her dress. Right now Lucia was every bit the Italian siren.

Tonight wasn’t about upsetting her. Tonight wasn’t about grieving.

Tonight was about reminding her how good things had been between them. Reminding her what it felt like to truly connect with a person—and hoping she might realise that some things were worth fighting for.

She blinked quickly, trying to lose the obvious sheen on her eyes. Her voice was shaky. ‘You promise?’

‘I promise.’ He didn’t hesitate. This was the only way. The only way to try and take the steps to move forward. He wouldn’t leave Venice without having that conversation with her but for tonight—just for tonight—he wanted to capture just a little of the old Lucia and Logan again.

She locked up the apartment and they headed downstairs. He gestured her towards the other entrance of the building, the one that looked out over the Grand Canal and had a private mooring dock.

She shook her head. ‘We never use that any more.’

He smiled as he pulled at the older doors. ‘Well, tonight we’re going to.’

* * *

Her stomach had been doing little flip-flops since early afternoon and didn’t seem to want to stop any time soon.

The dress he’d bought her was beautiful, elegant without being revealing and still managing to fit like a second skin. It might as well have been made especially for her.

When she’d put it on she’d felt a surge of confidence she hadn’t felt in years. And seeing Logan in his dark suit had almost toppled her off the edge where she was dangling. It was like recapturing a moment from twelve years ago, when they’d used to dress up regularly and go out eating and dancing together. Back when neither had had a care in the world and she’d had no idea what could lie ahead.