The Man From her Wayward Past

‘She’ll walk out again.’

Breath shot from Lucia’s lungs as Luke positioned her quite expertly on the sofa. ‘Are you taking advantage of me?’

‘This is a guest house, isn’t it? I’m looking for some old-style hospitality.’

‘I’m not sure I can accommodate you at such short notice.’

Luke laughed wickedly. ‘Past experience says you can …’

EPILOGUE

ROCK! MAGAZINE REVIEWS OF THE YEAR,

by your roving reporter, Holly Acosta

ALL’S WELL THAT ENDS WELL The rumours are true. The whirlwind romance between Lu

cia Acosta, one of the wild, untameable Acostas, and Luke Forster, scion of East Coast society, is to end in a fairytale wedding on an estancia the size of a small country, ruled over by deliciously dangerous men.

No one can accuse Luke Forster of not living up to his nickname on the polo field—the Enforcer has insisted that wedding invitations include the note: No muddy boots. No spurs. No curb bridles on spirited ponies. At least not in public!

Needless to say invitations to the wedding are highly sought-after, and with only Nacho and Kruz Acosta untamed, ladies, the race is on!

‘THE estancia has never looked lovelier,’ Lucia exclaimed as Luke drove between the wonderfully familiar gates before parking outside the sprawling house. It was the best time of year for the gardens, and the courtyard was a riot of colour. The dogs were snuffling around—a little older, but just as excited to see her—while contented cats snoozed the sunny day away beneath the shade of vine-covered canopies. ‘It’s the perfect season to get married.’

‘Any time’s good for me,’ Luke observed beneath his breath. ‘I couldn’t care less if it’s freezing cold so long as I can get you into a hot bed,’ he added, holding Lucia’s gaze as he lifted her down and swung her around before lowering her to the ground.

‘I’ve always dreamed of getting married here to the man I love.’ She sighed, adding with a cheeky smile, ‘You’re lucky I invited you along.’

‘It wouldn’t be much of a wedding night without me.’ Luke gave her one of his dark looks. ‘I’m going to leave you to it,’ he said, as Nacho’s housekeepers, Maria and Concepción, bustled out of the house to greet them.

‘Let me guess,’ Lucia said. ‘Stables. Horses. Brothers.’

‘But not necessarily in that order,’ Luke agreed. ‘See you at the wedding, Lucia.’

‘Hey, wait.’

Dream on. This was all happening way too fast. Luke had told her he was going to stay in the estancia guest house until the wedding night, but she hadn’t believed him. Luke knew exactly what he was doing, Lucia realised as he disappeared out of sight. Luke had demonstrated quite convincingly, on so many occasions, that delay increased pleasure, and now he was out to prove by just how much.

Lucia’s friends had gathered to help her celebrate her marriage to Luke. Grace from the club was to be her chief bridesmaid. The girls had just laced Lucia into her wedding gown, and now Grace handed her the exquisite bridal bouquet, composed of white peonies, ivory roses and dainty cream orchids with a deeper, clotted cream centre, all set off by clusters of delicate lime-green Lady’s Mantle, which had been the inspired suggestion of Luke’s mother.

‘Hello …? Can I come in?’ Donald Forster poked his head around the door. ‘I hope I’m not interrupting anything important?’ he said, looking round. ‘I had the word that you were almost ready.’ He beamed at Lucia’s friends.

‘You know I’ve always got time for you,’ she said, drawing her father-in-law-to-be into the room.

‘You look beautiful,’ Donald exclaimed when they had exchanged kisses on the cheek. ‘My son’s a very lucky man, and I hope you won’t think it impertinent of me if I give you a token of his parents’ love, to show how pleased we are that you’re joining our family. You’re making Luke happier than I have ever seen him,’ he added, when Lucia’s pleasure showed. ‘It used to be all business and polo for Luke, but now he’s encouraging me to ride out with him again. He even told his mother she looked lovely today. As if Luke has ever paused long enough to notice that. I don’t know what you’ve done to him, Lucia, but whatever it is, long may it continue. Now …’ Donald continued, delving into the breast pocket of his jacket. ‘Every bride should have something old, something new, something borrowed and something blue—or so my wife tells me. So she took me shopping today.’

Lucia had to be careful not to smile at the expression on Donald Forster’s face. He gave the impression that shopping was some mysterious rite most safely avoided by long stints on the golf course.

‘We decided to buy you something new,’ he went on. ‘My wife said this gift will remind you how to deal with a wild polo-playing man. As if you need any help in that direction.’

Lucia could only stare in surprise at the small jewel case.

‘You’ll have to get used to being spoiled, my dear. I don’t expect you’ve had much of that since your parents died, but Luke’s mother and I will take great pleasure in spoiling the daughter we never had.’

Lucia paused, and then flipped the catch. Her friends had gathered round to see, and after the gasps came laughter.

‘You are the best parents-in-law a girl could have,’ Lucia said, giving the girls a closer look at the perfectly formed miniature diamond spurs. ‘Thank you. Thank you both so much,’ she said, brushing a kiss against Donald’s taut tanned cheek. ‘I shall think of you every time I wear my spurs,’ she promised him—though not every time she handled her wild polo-playing man, Lucia silently amended.