‘Oh, I think so,’ she said confidently.
He must be patient, Nero thought as Bella led him back across the polo ground towards the stables. What he had to say to her had waited long enough—it could wait a little longer. Bella touched him more than any woman ever had. Like now, when she was clutching her breast above her heart as she took him across the yard towards an emerald-green paddock that stretched down to the river. The paddock was home
to a herd of spirited young colts, currently racing around, testing each other.
‘The grey,’ Bella said, pointing. ‘That’s Misty’s first colt. He was born before I even met you, but he’s two years old now, ready to start polo training.’
She stared up at him. ‘He’s a fine pony.’ Nero’s eyes narrowed as he watched the young horse go through his paces. ‘A little wild, but courage and daring is what I always look for.’ His gaze was drawn to Bella. ‘You’ve done well,’ he said, ‘really well.’
‘I named him Tango. For you.’
He inhaled sharply. ‘For me?’
‘It’s my gift to you,’ she explained, ‘for your…hospitality in Argentina.’
He was incredulous. No one had ever given him anything of such great value before. He threw her a crooked smile. ‘I’m glad you enjoyed yourself.’
‘Oh, I did. And now at least you can breed some decent animals from those Criollas of yours,’ she teased him, tilting her chin at the familiar challenging angle.
‘Cheeky,’ he warned, but he was laughing too. He wondered if he had ever been so happy in his life.
‘Hopefully, a few years down the line your polo ponies will be able to keep their feet when they come to England.’ She turned serious. ‘Tango has a great bloodline, Nero, and I think he’ll be happy with those pretty mares of yours on the pampas.’
‘Bella, I don’t know what to say.’
‘Don’t say anything.’
‘What can I give you in return?’
‘I don’t want anything in return—I never have.’
‘May I give you my heart?’ He stared down, realising that this was the single most important question he had ever asked in his life, and that Bella’s answer would change both their lives for ever.
The solution was simple. The solution had been in front of them all the time, which was probably why they hadn’t seen it and the prince had, Bella realised as she tried on the wedding dress in the thirty-third shop in at least the sixth country on the polo tour. But this one was perfect, which was just as well, since it was essential she found one before Nero came back to drag her out of the shop. Patience was not one of his virtues. A special licence and the two of them was all that was required—Bella had different ideas. She wanted photographs for their children to remember. So here she was in the most exclusive wedding store in Rome.
As the murmuring attendants fussed around her, Bella allowed herself a moment of quiet reflection. After their wedding, she would be back in Argentina with Nero in time for the new intake of children on the scheme and for the polo season there. They would then both travel back to the northern hemisphere in time to manage Bella’s projects. But, more important than all of this, Nero insisted, was the life they built together. Remembering the portrait of his grandmother, Bella knew she would be following her heart to the pampas, just as Nero would be following his head when he came to England to play polo for the prince.
She was jolted out of these thoughts by Nero throwing the assistants into a panic by striding unannounced into a wedding boutique that suddenly seemed far too small to hold both Nero Caracas and the chosen wedding dress. Barring the entrance to her cubicle, the brave women held him at bay.
‘Get me out of this,’ Bella exclaimed, already tearing at the laces.
The women only just managed to remove the gown in time and hide it as Nero threw back the curtain.
‘Don’t test me, Bella.’
The women scattered, leaving them alone.
Bella levelled a stare on Nero’s face as his fierce expression mellowed into a lazy gaze. ‘Do you like it?’ she asked, modelling the new underwear he’d bought her.
‘It’s a great improvement on industrial weight serge and heavy engineering.’
And she would never have bought such inconsequential scraps of lace for herself, or dreamed of wearing such things before she met Nero but, thanks to him, the damage of the past was nothing more than a reminder of how lucky they were to have found each other.
‘We are in the city of lovers,’ Nero murmured, running the knuckles of one hand very lightly down her cheek, ‘so I shall test you later, to see if the new lingerie is having the required effect.’
‘Excellent,’ Bella agreed softly. ‘The Ice Maiden is already melting in anticipation of your prolonged attention.’ Catching hold of his hand, she kissed it whilst holding his gaze.
‘You’re my world, Bella,’ Nero said, turning suddenly serious as he cupped her face between his hands. ‘And after this tour we’re going to stay home in Argentina and raise ponies together.’