Luca hauled her into his arms and kissed her.
He kissed her and kissed her. She tasted tears, and they were not only hers, they were also his.
“Cheyenne,” he whispered, “my beautiful, brave, amazing Cheyenne. How could you have thought that the story of all you overcame to become the incredible woman you are would keep me from loving you?”
She stared at him. “But what I let happen to me…”
“You were a little girl, cara. An innocent child. The men who abused you were—they were…” His mouth thinned. “And your mother. Cristo, your mother…” He swallowed hard. “Cheyenne. I love you with all my heart.”
Luca could have sworn he saw stars suddenly glow in her eyes.
“If anyone had asked me, I would have said I couldn’t love you more than I already did.” He smiled. “I would have been wrong, sweetheart. I love you all the more for knowing the woman you truly are.”
Cheyenne knotted her fingers in his shirt, rose to him and kissed him. “Do you remember when you said we were going to make love, not have sex?” Her voice broke. “You were the first man, the only man I’ve ever made love with.”
He bent his head and brushed his lips over hers.
“Tu sei mia, dolcezza, e io sono tuo,” he said softly. “You are mine, sweetheart, and I am yours.”
“Forever,” Cheyenne whispered.
“Forever,” Luca agreed.
Outside, a big ivory moon rose into the star-filled sky, and a chorus of crickets burst into song.
EPILOGUE
They were married at El Sueño on Christmas day.
The Wilde sisters
and sisters-in-law came up with the plan. They suggested it to Bianca and Alessandra—all the women had become close. When they told Cheyenne what they’d been thinking, she said she loved the idea.
By the time she mentioned it to Luca, he could only sigh, roll his eyes and admit that he had come to be very fond of his half-brothers and half-sisters, and that the horseman in him had grown increasingly fond of the ranch itself.
Renovations at Sweetwater were moving ahead faster than anyone had expected. The house was beautiful and in such good shape by early December that they held Cheyenne’s bridal shower there.
The day of the wedding dawned bright and cold. It had snowed the night before, not enough to spoil the festivities, but enough to look very much like the frosting on the gorgeous six-layer wedding cake Lissa had baked.
Everything was perfect, from the stunning bride in a long white gown of handmade lace to the handsome groom in a custom-made black tux to the Christmas garlands and white satin ribbons that hung from the fireplace mantels and stairways.
The ceremony was beautiful, the reception perfect, the dinner elegant.
After dinner, while Cheyenne changed into her going-away clothes, five men who had started as bitter enemies and had become pretty good friends—Jake, Caleb, Travis, Matteo and Luca—took a short break out on the porch. They toasted each other with glasses of excellent Scotch, and then they toasted the groom and his bride.
“You’re a lucky man,” Matteo told his brother.
Luca grinned. “And you, mio fratello, are next.”
Matteo shuddered. “Non me,” he said, “not me!”
All the brothers laughed—and then Jake said, “Look!”
He was pointing at an old path that followed a brook through the woods to the beginning of the long gravel road that led to the house.
“What?” the others asked.
Jake frowned. “I’m not sure. I thought I saw…something.”
The others shook their heads.
“I don’t see anything,” Caleb said.
Travis grinned. “Maybe it was Santa.”
They all laughed.
“Maybe,” Jake said.
Except, what he’d thought he’d seen was their father. John Hamilton Wilde. Four star general or four star spy, take your choice, looking alone and sad and, hell, old as he watched them from the cover of the trees.
“Time to go in,” Matteo said. “We have to get my brother out of his monkey suit and into some real clothes.”
The brothers high-fived each other, but Jake hung back when they headed for the door.
He took another look at the woods.
No. What would the old man have been doing, hanging around today? They had not invited him to the wedding. A couple of the girls had toyed with the idea, but not even they could ultimately bear the thought of sharing a day of such family happiness with him.
Yeah, but despite everything, John Hamilton Wilde was their father…
“Jake? Dude, you coming?”
Jake drew himself together, turned his back to the woods and walked briskly across the porch.
It was crazy to feel sorry for the SOB who had caused them all so much pain
“Crazy,” he muttered, and closed the door behind him.