Rebel with a Cause

She smiled. And his heart burst open.

He followed the minister’s instructions—repeated the words, listened to her cool, clear voice say them back to him.

So he could kiss her now. But there was something he needed to do first—here and now and in front of a hundred witnesses.

He cleared his throat, took a deep breath as he turned to face her, gazing right into her beautiful blue eyes.

And finally he said it—the thing he’d never said to anyone before. Had never dreamed he’d ever be capable of saying, let alone actually feeling.

‘I love you.’ Suddenly he was freed from the terrible tension he’d felt for ever. ‘I love you.’ He said it again with a smile—louder that time as he recognised it as the beginning of a whole new meaning to his life.

She crumpled and he caught her to him, tasting her tears as he kissed her.

He did. He really did love her—the power of it was beyond anyone’s control. Certainly his. But that was okay. That was better than okay.

Sophy heard him whispering it again as he held her in a bear hug so tight she couldn’t breathe. But she wasn’t letting him get away with just one kiss. Not after that. She put her palms on his face, blinking through the tears, feeling her soul sing as she touched her lips

to his. She was tight in his arms again, literally swept off her feet as they kissed.

There was cheering and clapping and, for her, utter reluctance as they drew apart. Sophy turned, faced the sea of smiles and sparkling outfits for only a second. Then she turned back to him and was centred again. He was her anchor. And she his. Together they’d form a foundation from which they could do anything.

He kissed her again, the way she needed to be kissed—with love and heat and fierce intensity.

‘I love you, Lorenzo.’

He smiled, that rare, shining, carefree smile that she hoped would now be much more common.

She’d known there were people. As she’d walked up the aisle she’d seen them in her peripheral vision. But all her attention had been on the man waiting for her at the altar. Stock-still, pale, looking at her as if she were an illusion—as if fearful she’d disappear in a wisp of smoke if he so much as blinked.

Now, as they walked back down the aisle together, her arm tightly clamped to his side, she saw them all properly—her parents, her brother and sister, aunts, a few cousins, Rosanna’s boys, several other friends. And she recognised the Wilsons, Vance, Kat, Cara, some others who she guessed were vineyard workers. All were here to celebrate with them.

From some where—who knew where?—a couple of large buses had appeared out the front of the church. They all climbed aboard and were taken to the reception in a marquee in the middle of the Wilsons’ vineyard. They dined and danced and laughed. It seemed Lorenzo really had impressed her father. The two of them bonded over fine wine and possible investments. Her mother was just floored by him. Sophy under stood that all too well. Sophy gazed round at the gleaming silverware, the white and silver decorations making the room sparkle.

It was the grandest gesture anyone had ever done for her. She who’d organised this and that—the surprise parties here, the celebrations there. The biggest day of her life had been arranged by all who loved her. In an old church in the middle of nowhere the man she loved had given himself to her—unreservedly.

‘I can’t believe you did this for me.’ She gazed up at him as they danced together on the specially constructed wooden floor.

‘I wanted to do something nice for you.’ He smiled faintly.

‘You’ve done a lot of nice things already, Lorenzo—you gave me workshop space, you gave me time in Hanmer, you did those designs for me.’

‘But it was all with conditions. There are no conditions on this.’

‘Other than that I promise to be your wife and to love you always.’

‘Just that little thing, yeah.’

‘Unconditionally given.’

He pulled her closer. ‘Do you mind not getting to organise your own wedding?’

‘Mind?’ She laughed. ‘I’m so relieved I don’t have to. No stress. I could just enjoy it.’

‘Rosanna was fantastic.’ He brushed her cheek with the backs of his fingers. ‘So were your parents.’

‘Thank you so much.’

‘They love you.’

She nodded, unable to speak any more.

‘Sophy?’

She turned into his arms, hiding her tears in his neck.

‘I love you.’

She looked at him then. He was smiling, his face light, his eyes warm and free of shadows. ‘If I’d known how good it felt to say it, I’d have said it back that day when you rang for the doctor in my apartment. I wanted to make love to you then—I’m going to now.’

She reached up to him, placing the palm of her hand on the slightly rough cheek. ‘Thank goodness,’ she sighed. ‘I was worried you’d taken a vow of abstinence.’

‘I did,’ he said soberly. ‘I wasn’t going to be with you again until you were my wife.’

‘And now I am.’

‘Yes.’

They whispered quiet goodbyes to the others, then slipped away in the night—running together down the rows of vines, to the small cottage at the far corner of the land. It had been decked in flowers, the sweet scent filling the air.

His arms were tight about her. ‘Thank you, thank you, thank you.’

‘For what?’

‘Everything.’ He looked down, a half-smile quirking his lips. ‘I talked to your father.’

‘You did?’ She felt some nerves twinge.

‘When I asked him for his blessing. It was a pretty frank talk.’ He looked rueful. ‘But he reckoned it’s impossible to control feelings or to stop them, but that it’s better to accept them. And then to deal with them.’ He laced his fingers through hers. ‘I want to deal with my love for you. Now and every day to come.’

And then he did—showing her the tenderness she’d made him feel, the happiness she’d brought to life in him. She cried as he told her, showed her, loved her. And she held him, loved him, until he shook in her arms.

‘Not alone,’ she whispered. ‘Not any more.’

He buried his hot face in her neck and she stroked him until both their tears were spent.

‘Are we staying here?’ She was finally back on earth and able to absorb something of her surroundings.

‘For a few days.’

‘Then why do you have my passport?’

He chuckled. ‘So you couldn’t say no and run away overseas.’

‘I’d only want to run away with you.’

‘And we will. Very soon. But I thought we could decide where together.’ He twirled her hair round his finger. ‘You’re tired.’

She was. But so happy. She snuggled closer to him and discovered she wasn’t that tired. ‘Once was not enough, Lorenzo.’

‘Demanding wench.’ He rose onto his elbow. ‘You’re always asking me for more.’

She laughed. ‘And isn’t it just such a hardship for you?’

‘No,’ he said, pulling her closer, binding her in his arms. ‘It’s heaven.’

Pure heaven.