Sally’s new rug was very convenient, as were the cushions from the sofa. With gentle, shaking hands he undressed her and shed his own clothes. He kissed her again, his hands cupping and caressing the fullness of her breasts and then stroking lower to cradle the still small mound of her tummy. She looked at him and saw the wonder, the awe in his eyes, before he bent his head to press a kiss on her stomach and his child.
He lifted his head, his dark eyes seeking hers. ‘I won’t hurt you or the baby, will I?’ he asked.
Sally smiled softly. For once her magnificent, arrogant man did not have all the answers. She responded by reaching for him, her hands curving around his broad shoulders and pulling him down to her. ‘No. I am past the first trimester—it is fine…’ She accentuated the last word and smiled.
With a shout of joy mingled with relief Zac began to make love to her, with a gentle but tender and passionate intensity that surpassed anything that had gone before. Sally gave herself eagerly, and when Zac finally claimed her as his once more, she arched up to meet him, and they became one in a sunburst of love and life…
Epilogue
/> SIXTEEN months later Sally stood in the nursery of their home in Calabria, looking into the cot where Francesco, their son, was finally sleeping after an exciting day.
She had married Zac in a quiet Christmas wedding at the small church in Villa San Giovanni, the nearest town to his home in the countryside. Zac had insisted she wear white, despite her swelling belly, and the guest list on her side had been Jemma, and Charles and his wife and family, but not her father. Zac had had Raffe and his wife, who had just discovered she was pregnant, Marco and his wife, and a few local friends and employees.
Francesco had arrived on a beautiful spring day in March, just like today, and was a joy to behold. Sally reached down into the cot and stroked his black curly hair with a gentle hand. He was the image of his father, and just looking at him was enough to make her heart overflow with love and happiness. Today had been his first birthday, and they had thrown a party for a dozen children, from the ages of a few months to ten years old.
Zac had supposedly been in control of the party. But he had been a bigger hit than the troupe of clowns and jugglers he had hired to entertain the children. Francesco had ridden around on his shoulders, and so had most of the other children. And a riotous game of football, beloved of all Italians, had mostly consisted of Zac running after the ball as the youngsters kicked anywhere and everywhere. Now he was lying in the huge bath in their en suite bathroom, trying to ease his aching bones.
It seemed incredible to her now that she had ever doubted Zac or been afraid of marriage. He was a wonderful husband, and a devoted father who adored his son. Totally the opposite of her own father, who had married a woman thirty-five years younger than himself within six months of her mum’s death and retired to Spain. Who said crime didn’t pay? she thought, but without the anger and bitterness that had plagued her before. She had accepted that he had never been cut out to be a father, or faithful, and if anything she pitied his new wife…
Zac had told her about her father at the same time as he told her he had sold Westwold Components, because he knew she did not approve of the arms business. He had also added that the office gossip was the woman had married her dad for his money, and would leave him just as quickly when the cash ran out…What goes around comes around, Sally thought, and she didn’t care any more.
She had her own family, and sometimes Sally could hardly believe how blessed she was. Zac had cut back on his workload and they spent most of their time here in Calabria. She had fallen in love with the house the moment she had seen it.
The original two-hundred-year-old farmhouse was only part of one wing now. If Zac wanted something he got it, and he had used the same approach to the house. It was a great rambling home now, with a gym and a swimming pool, six en suite bedrooms and an amazing master bedroom that had panoramic views across the Strait of Messina to Sicily and the toe of Italy. The building had evolved over the years to sit perfectly in the surrounding landscape of olive groves, cliffs and sea, though it would probably never win any prizes for architectural beauty.
She loved the house, and she loved Zac—but, strange as it seemed, she had never actually said the words. Maybe it was time she did…
Sally bent down to drop a kiss on Francesco’s head.
Straightening, she felt two arms close around her waist.
‘Is he asleep?’ Zac murmured, looking over her head at his son sleeping in the cot. ‘He looks like an angel. Dio, don’t you just love him?’
Sally turned in his arms and linked hers around his neck. He was wearing only a towel slung around his lean hips and a smile to warm her heart—and quite a few other parts of her anatomy.
‘Yes. And if you have recovered from the party, I thought I would take you to bed and show you how much I love you, Zac.’
His dark eyes flared with a luminous light, and he groaned as he pulled her against him, his sensuous mouth kissing every one of her delicate features before claiming her mouth in a deep, loving kiss.
‘Thank you for that, cara mia,’ he murmured, holding her close. ‘I was beginning to worry you would never say the words I longed to hear, even though I know you feel them.’
‘Conceited devil.’ She grinned ‘But I do love you.’
‘No, not conceited—just a man who loves you to distraction. Now, what were you saying about taking me to bed…?’ And, curving an arm around her waist, he led her quietly out of the nursery.
‘I was thinking today,’ he said as they walked towards their suite. ‘If you agree, maybe it is time we started trying for the second of those three children you insisted you wanted when we met.’
‘You are never going to let me forget that, Zac.’
They both laughed.
And then they wandered off to make a start on extending their family.
* * * * *