Nicolo: The Powerful Sicilian

And it was.

Nick couldn’t seem to stop smiling. His brothers teased him about it, but then they herded him into a corner, hugged him, got teary-eyed—although, to a man, they’d have denied it—and told him how great it was to see him so happy.

“Yeah,” Nick said, his smile becoming a grin, “well, you know, I couldn’t let you guys leave me in the dust.”

Rafe, Dante, Falco and Nicolo all laughed. Alessia heard them, looked at her husband…

The smile she gave him made him glow.

She glowed, too. And everyone agreed that the small bump beneath the silk of her white bridal gown only added to her beauty.

“I love your family, even your father, because he brought you into my life,” she told Nicolo later that afternoon, as they swayed together on the dance floor. “Your brothers are wonderful. So are their wives. And your sisters… Why are they not married?”

Anna and Isabella, on their way to the dessert table, overheard her. They flashed their new sister-in-law bright smiles but when they’d moved past her, they rolled their eyes.

“Married,” Izzy said, with a snort. “I came within an inch of telling her the reason.”

“Me, too.” Anna looked at a silver platter of cannoli, sighed and slid first one of the rich pastries, then another, on a plate. “Why would a woman be foolish enough to tie herself down to a man?”

“Too many cannoli aren’t good for you,” Izzy said primly, and snatched one from Anna’s plate with her fingers. “As for marriage… It’s fine for Chiara and Gaby and Elle. And now for Alessia.”

“But not for us,” Anna said, with self-righteous conviction. “Never, ever.”

Izzy licked a bit of ricotta from the tip of her pinkie. “I’ll drink to that,” she said, reaching for a flute of champagne.

Anna reached for one, too. “Salute,” she said, and the Orsini sisters touched glasses, grinned, and each drank down the fizzy stuff in one unladylike gulp.