‘I can play hard to get too, bella mia.’ A sizzling smile slanted his darkly handsome features, his stunning eyes full of pure gold mockery. ‘Buona notte!’
And with that he sauntered back to his red Ferrari, all fluid grace, cool and extreme sexiness.
Lacking that subtle touch, Glory raced down the path in his wake. ‘You can come in if you like—’
Rafaello paused with one hand on the open door of his car and skimmed her a glance of vibrant amusement and satisfaction. ‘I wouldn’t dream of it. I almost forgot…’ he murmured smoothly. ‘Don’t be late at the church. It’s two minutes away and I will just come and fetch you—’
‘It’s tradition for the bride to be a little late!’
‘Stuff tradition,’ Rafaello enunciated, springing into the Ferrari. ‘I want you there on the stroke of the hour.’
Glory shot between him and the car door and yanked his keys out of the ignition. ‘OK…what’s going on?’ she asked anxiously because, although she was charmed by his wonderfully light-hearted mood, she was disconcerted by the alteration she sensed in him.
‘What’s going on?’ Rafaello laughed. ‘I’m just happy!’
‘Oh…’ As that was news that could only please any woman the night before their wedding, Glory returned his car keys to him.
But Rafaello climbed out of the car, pushed shut the door and lounged back against it. He breathed in very deep. ‘I’m happy because when we were in London you told me you loved me and I’m hoping like hell that you meant it…’
Taken aback by that blunt admission, Glory reddened. ‘Of course I meant it.’
His brilliant eyes gleamed and he startled her by snatching her up off her feet, striding round the bonnet and stowing her in his passenger seat.
‘For goodness’ sake, what are you doing?’ Glory yelped.
‘I’m kidnapping you,’ Rafaello asserted, swinging in beside her and firing the engine before she could do anything about it.
‘Are you crazy? I was about to make Dad’s supper—’
Having accelerated back down onto the lane, Rafaello jammed on his brakes and lifted his car phone to stab out a number. ‘Sam? Yes, I told her I was kidnapping her but she’s not impressed by the dramatic gesture—she’s more concerned about Archie’s supper—’
Glory’s cheeks flamed at that proclamation. Rafaello replaced the phone and dealt her an amused appraisal. ‘Sam will ensure that your father eats…OK? Can you relax now?’
It was a beautiful early
-autumn evening. He parked the Ferrari below the beech trees that lined the woodland walk that followed the river through the estate. Closing a lean hand round hers, he tugged her out of the car. ‘I had to talk to you before the wedding, bella mia.’
‘What wouldn’t keep until tomorrow?’ Glory teased.
Rafaello came to a halt. ‘It crossed my mind on the flight back home that although you had heard me telling Sam that I loved you, I had never actually told you…at least, nor properly.’
‘Not properly…’ Glory repeated unsteadily, her attention resting on the decided colour that had risen to accentuate his fabulous cheekbones. ‘Are you trying to say that you were serious when you said that to Sam in London? I thought you were just saying it to calm him down—’
‘I’m not that good a liar in moments of crisis where you’re concerned. If you hadn’t done a runner on me in Corfu I would have told you I loved you then.’
Glory was desperate to believe that he loved her but afraid to credit that what she most wanted could already be hers. ‘But that last morning we were together at the villa you were so grim and tense with me…that’s why I got the idea that you were going to dump me!’ Glory explained awkwardly. ‘I don’t want you feeling you have to rewrite history just because I got pregnant and you want to make me feel better about our getting married.’
His lean strong face clenched hard with tension. ‘I don’t believe this. I’ve never told a woman I loved her in my life, and the minute I do you start telling me I don’t! But then, how can I blame you for that when I’ve made such a hash of everything? I always get it wrong with you—’
Colliding with the raw emotion in his lustrous dark eyes, Glory started really listening instead of doubting. ‘You don’t—’
‘Yes, I do. Even when you told me that you loved me, I screwed up!’ Rafaello ground out, swinging away from her and raking his fingers through his black hair in a movement of violent frustration. ‘I thought you were only saying it because you had guessed that I was crazy about you and you were feeling sorry for me. That stung my pride—’
Dumbfounded by the revelation that Rafaello could be that insecure, Glory closed her hands round one lean clenched fist and drew him back to her again, but he was so busy talking, he hardly seemed to notice. ‘There’s never been anyone else for me but you,’ he was telling her aggressively. ‘When I first saw you again I went haywire and came up with the mistress idea. I just wanted you back on any terms I could have you without losing face.’
As Rafaello paused for breath Glory was starting to smile. ‘Without losing face?’ she encouraged.
‘Then I wrecked things again by coming off with that rubbish about you trying to trap me by getting pregnant,’ Rafaello informed her with a guilty grimace. ‘I was in shock at finding out you were still a virgin, but by the time I got out of the shower I had actually quite warmed up to the idea that you might conceive my child—’