The Sicilian's Marriage Arrangement

“Si, amore mia?”

“You really do love me?”

He sprang up, tumbling her into his lap and grasping her chin so their eyes met. “How can you doubt it? I love you more than my own life.”

“It just seems so unreal. You married me because my grandfather forced you into it.” Would she always remember that?

“He played matchmaker in the most unconventional way, but had I not wanted to be caught, I would not have been.”

She sighed and said nothing.

“It is true. You realize I do not wish to pursue revenge on him now? I am grateful for his interference even if I was too proud to acknowledge it before.”

Could she believe him? Knowing what a shark her husband was capable of being, she shivered a little with relief on her grandfather’s behalf. “I’m glad.”

“To hurt him would hurt you and I will never again do that.”

“Sicilian guilt is stronger than the vendetta.”

He turned very serious. “Not guilt. Love. This Sicilian’s love.”

She so desperately wanted to have faith in his love, but perhaps that was why it was so hard to do so. He had been forced into the marriage. How could he love her like she loved him? “Grandfather didn’t really leave you an out.”

He shook his head. “You do not believe me, but it is true. I had repurchased most of the stock by the time of our marriage. I did not need half of your shares to control Valerio Shipping.”

“But you said…”

“I told you a plan I hatched in hurt and anger, not the truth of my heart, cara. I did not need the shares.”

And that truth was burning in his sexy brown eyes.

“You wanted to marry me,” she said with awe.

“Si. So much, I was in despair you would not believe me about Zia and leave me. I was terrified of losing you.”

The concept of him terrified seemed unbelievable, but the aftereffects lingered in his expression. “That was before you knew I wasn’t part of the blackmail plan.” Understanding washed over her in a wave and with it came unstoppable love and belief in his love. “You wanted to make our marriage work believing I had colluded with my grandfather to force you into it.”

That fact had gotten lost in her pain and confusion, but no Sicilian male as strong as Luciano would have come to that point without being very much in love.

“I could not lose you.” His hold tightened. “You are the other half of myself. Without you, I am not a man.”

“I love you, Luciano.”

His eyes closed and he breathed deeply as if savoring the words. “Say it again.”

“Ti amo,” she said it in Italian.

His eyes opened, burning into hers with purpose. “Always.”

“Yes.”

“And I will love you forever. I am going to make you feel like the most loved woman that ever walked the face of the earth.”

As goals went, it was a big one, but he could do it. All he had to do was keep looking at her like he was doing right now.

And she would love him like no other woman could.

Luciano looked into his wife’s soft pansy gaze, his precious Hope. Her love was worth more than his pride, more than his company, more than anything else in the world to him and he would never let her forget it.