‘Confused, unsure of myself. I behaved differently with you, I felt more with you…and it troubled me. So, like an idiot, I walked away from what I didn’t understand,’ he completed.
‘I wish you’d found my note,’ Holly lamented.
‘When you walked out first, I told myself that was for the best, that we could never work in the real world. But we do work,’ Vito told her with quiet satisfaction. ‘We work like a dream on every level and I have never been as happy as I am now…’
Holly was thinking about what he had said and a spark of excitement lit inside her.
‘If you and Angelo hadn’t found me again, where would I be now? The heart and soul of my world was the Zaffari Bank but the bank wasn’t enough to satisfy me.’
‘Are you trying to tell me that you fell for me that night?’ Holly whispered shakily.
‘Well, if you have to ask, obviously I’m not doing a very good job of the telling.’ Vito groaned. ‘What you made me feel unnerved me. I wouldn’t even let myself try to trace you because I was too proud. If you didn’t want me I wasn’t going to chase after you. I tried very hard to forget that night. I even tried to sleep with other women.’
‘And how did that go?’ Holly broke in to demand.
‘It didn’t. I made excuses to myself that I was stressed, overtired. I had endless fantasies about you.’
‘Me…the temptress,’ Holly framed blissfully. ‘Who would ever have thought it?’
‘You’re the love of my life…the only love I have ever had,’ Vito husked, clamping her to his long, powerful length with strong arms. ‘And I fell hard. I fell so hard I can’t imagine ever living without you an
d our son. You have brought passion and fun into my daily life and I never had either before.’
‘I love you too,’ Holly muttered almost shyly.
Vito smiled down at her with burnished golden eyes and her heart skipped a beat. He kissed her with hot, hungry fervour and she ran out of breath. He lifted his tousled dark head and murmured, ‘I have one special request. Would you consider having another child?’
‘Another?’ Holly gasped in astonishment.
‘Not immediately,’ Vito hastened to assure her. ‘I want to share your next pregnancy, be there when my child is born, and experience everything I missed out on with our son. If you employ an assistant, even if you get pregnant I don’t see why you shouldn’t still be able to concentrate on your interior design plan.’
Holly smiled at that prospect. Her very successful bedroom project had quickly spread to include other major rooms at the castello. She had had the adjoining reception room done in toning colours before moving on to attack the scarlet Victorian dining room. At present she was well aware that the castello was large enough to offer her the chance to utilise her talents and gain proper experience before she considered moving on to tackle outside projects.
‘I’ll think about another baby,’ she told him thoughtfully. ‘I would prefer Angelo not to be an only child.’
Vito stared down at her as she gazed up at him with starry eyes. He loves me, he loves me, he loves me, she was thinking on a happy high. She ran an appreciative hand up over a long, muscular, hair-roughened thigh and sensible conversation ceased around that point. Vito told her he loved her. Holly told him she loved him too. No sooner had they exchanged those sentiments than they both succumbed to an overwhelming desire to dispel the tension with the passion they shared.
Long after, Vito lay studying Holly as she slept, marvelling at how happy he felt. He wondered if he could persuade her into another sexy Santa outfit at Christmas and wondered if it would be a little pushy to buy one for her. Pushiness came so naturally to him that he soon convinced himself that his laid-back bride would simply laugh.
He curved an arm round her slight body.
‘Love you…’ Holly mumbled automatically.
Vito smiled. ‘Love you. You’re my happy-ever-after, amata mia.’
EPILOGUE
VITO STRODE THROUGH the door and was immediately engulfed in the flying energy of his son, who flung himself at his knees in a classic tackle. Angelo started chattering in a hail of words, only a handful of which were in distinguishable Italian and occasional ones were in English. Mamma figured a lot. Nonna, as he called his grandmother Concetta, figured too. If Angelo was to be believed, he, his mother and his grandmother had spent the afternoon feeding a dinosaur. A very small dinosaur was waved in Vito’s general direction and comprehension set in as he crouched down to dutifully admire the toy.
A giant Christmas tree adorned the hall. It was festooned with ornaments and lights. There were no gifts heaped below the branches because Angelo loved to rip off wrapping paper. Silvestro had been heard to tell a tenant that the Zaffaris were having ‘an English Christmas’, and Vito’s chef, Francisco, had been feeding them turkey for weeks as he fine-tuned his recipes to provide them with an English banquet on Christmas Day. In respect of the Italian traditions, Angelo would receive la calza—a stocking full of sweets. The red-suited Babbo Natale would obviously visit on Christmas Eve, but the kind-hearted Italian witch La Befana, who searched for the Christ child in all the houses, would visit at Epiphany with more gifts.
Vito breathed in deep as he saw a small figure clad in white-fur-trimmed scarlet appear at the top of the stairs. ‘You’re not wearing your hat,’ he complained.
Holly stopped midway and jammed it on over her mane of hair and made a face at him. ‘Satisfied now?’
Vito angled a lazy, sexy smile at her. ‘Don’t I have to wait until bedtime for that?’
‘Maybe I’ll suggest an early night.’ Holly remained anchored two steps up so that she was almost level with him.