Ravelli's Defiant Bride

‘There is that,’ Belle conceded reluctantly. ‘Now, are you sure you’re going to be all right while we’re away?’

‘Belle, you and Cristo will only be away for five days, of course we’ll be all right,’ the older woman declared lightly. ‘Stop fussing.’

Cristo and Belle were celebrating their fourth wedding anniversary in Venice where they would be visiting the princess and Henri in their palazzo on the Grand Canal but staying in a small intimate hotel that Cristo had carefully selected for them. Belle could barely credit that so much time had passed since their wedding and that soon she would be a mother in her own right.

Cristo had bought a fabulous house for them in Holland Park. Bruno was now studying art at college and Donetta was planning to do fashion design. Pietro and Lucia were both in secondary school and fought a little less often now that they were so conscious of being almost teenagers. Franco was a sturdy six-year-old in primary school, who insisted on having his curls cropped the minute they became visible and who modelled his every masculine move on Cristo, whom in common with the twins he called ‘Dad.’

Although they had started out with a ready-made family, who had been officially adopted by Cristo and Belle within months of their first wedding, Cristo had never overlooked their personal relationship or taken it for granted. They had, after all and at his insistence, had their marriage blessed in an Italian church service shortly before the first Christmas they had shared, both of them feeling the need to exchange their vows with rather more sincerity and emotion than had figured when they had initially married. They also enjoyed regular weekend breaks and holidays as a couple.

It had been during their last romantic break that Cristo had admitted that he would love her to have his child. That development had taken place far sooner than either of them had expected because Belle had fallen pregnant within a month of that decision. She smiled, hand splaying across her tummy as she thought of the little girl on the way to joining the Ravelli family. She could hardly wait and her brothers and sisters were equally excited at the new addition in the offing.

Indeed, Belle was happier than she had ever dreamt of being with Cristo and her family. And she had never been so busy. The palazzo, where they usually spent their summers on a family holiday, had been modernised. The whole family circle had drawn closer. Cristo’s brother, Nik Christakis, still intimidated Belle but his life had taken some surprising turns since their first meeting and he had definitely warmed up from the driven workaholic he had once been.

Zarif’s life was still a story under development and Belle loved visiting Vashir with its colourful vibrant culture and fabulous history. Cristo’s younger brother had weathered the storms over the scandal of his father’s secret double life because the rumours about Gaetano’s misbehaviour had once been so wild that the truth was no more shocking to the populace, who could only marvel that Zarif was such a conservative male in comparison.

Belle clambered into the limo that was to whisk her to the airport to meet Cristo and smiled, looking forward to the promise of having her husband’s undivided attention for a few days. An hour and half later, she boarded the private jet, her attention switching straight to Cristo’s tall, well-built figure as he pushed aside his laptop and sprang upright to greet her in the aisle.

‘You look beautiful, amata mia,’ he told her huskily.

Belle slid self-mocking hands down over her bust and hips and quipped, ‘Well, you are getting a more generous portion of me with every month that goes past…’

‘And I love it,’ Cristo growled, bending down to kiss her ripe peach-tinted mouth with hungry appreciation. ‘I think you look incredibly sexy.’

‘Tell me more,’ she urged as he settled her down in a comfortable seat beside his and fastened her belt for take-off.

‘Later. Right now it’s time for this…’ Cristo slowly slid an emerald ring onto her wedding finger. ‘It’s the same colour as your eyes and it is to signify my gratitude and appreciation for four very happy years of marriage.’

‘Thank you, it’s absolutely gorgeous. Unfortunately my gift is unavailable right at this moment, so you’ll have to wait.’

‘What is it?’ Cristo asked curiously.

‘Well, it might be turquoise and frilly and exactly the sort of thing you like but you’ll just have to wait and see,’ she warned him with an irreverent grin. ‘It has to be love, Cristo. It really has to be love I feel for you.’

‘I adore you, amata mia,’ Cristo murmured, holding her hand in his. ‘And if you’re talking about what I think you are, I can hardly wait.’

Belle rolled her green eyes teasingly and her colour heightened. ‘You don’t have to wait. I’m wearing it. Have you ever heard of the Mile High Club?’

*

Keep reading for an excerpt from WHEN DA SILVA BREAKS THE RULES by Abby Green.

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