While the guests chuckle again, my eyes rest softly on my wife, her vows filling every inch of my heart.
“Eleven years ago, I fell in love with an Italian boy. I spent night after night weaving fairytales around him.”
Another tear escapes my eye, and Mariya reaches up to brush it away.
“Thank you for giving me the fairytale love I never imagined I'd have.”
We both breathe for a moment before I say, “I promise to share every sunrise with you because no day would be worth living if I don’t see your beautiful face.” I take hold of her hand and, holding it in both of mine, I swallow hard on the intensity of the moment before I continue, “I’ll never let you go, Mariya. I’ll follow you to the highest heaven and the deepest hell. I’ll fight all the gods and all the demons who might stand in our way, I’ll burn down this Earth and give you the universe.”
She gasps past a sob, tears falling from her chin to land at our feet.
Stepping closer to her, I wrap my hand around the back of her neck and rest my forehead against hers. “I love you with all that I am. My heart. My body. My entire being.” I press a tender kiss to her trembling lips. “You are the light of my life, and I promise to treasure, protect, and love you all the days I’m given until my last breath.”
We exchange rings, and once we’re declared husband and wife for a second time, I sweep Mariya up into my arms, bridal style, and demand, “Kiss me, amore mio.”
She wraps her arms around my neck, and with a world of happiness shining from her eyes, she takes my mouth with all the passion and love we’ll share until the end of our days.
Cheers and applause break out, and I feel Viktor patting my back.
When the kiss ends, I stare into Mariya’s eyes and stepping off the podium, confetti rains down on us.
I watch as Mariya laughs and catches a piece of black and rose gold confetti, and too soon, we’re swept up by guests congratulating us.
I put her down on a vacated chair and take a moment between people clamoring for our attention to ask, “How’s your leg.”
She beams up at me. “It’s fine, my husband.”
I grin at her like an idiot as I crouch in front of her. “Thank you for marrying me again.”
“I’ll marry you a million times, Luca. Only you.”
“Il mio,” I murmur, so fucking proud that I get to call her mine.
Mariya’s hands frame my jaws, and she leans forward, sealing our mouths together.
Not giving a single fuck about our family and friends watching, I kiss my love possessively, desperately, and with the inferno of emotions only she can evoke in me.
Chapter 43
Mariya
We arrived at Luca’s family home early this morning. We spent our wedding night sleeping on the private jet. Sure we could’ve delayed the departure by a couple of hours, but we were both in a hurry to start our honeymoon.
I stare out the window at the vast lawn that ends on a cliff. The Mediterranean sea is a stunning shade of blue this morning.
God, I love Italy.
Hearing a splash down below, my gaze lowers to the pool. I watch as Luca swims a couple of laps before he lifts his powerful body out of the water.
A smile spreads over my face.
Yeah, it was definitely the abs that made me fall head over heels for the man.
With Luca’s parents visiting mine in LA, we have the villa to ourselves. I strip out of my shorts and tanktop, then leave the room butt naked.
When I walk through the wide-open glass doors and take the steps down to the lawn, Luca’s eyes land on me. He stops patting the waterdrops from his chest and drops the towel.
“Christ, now that’s one hell of a sight to see first thing in the morning,” he grins.
“Morning, my husband,” I say as I reach him. I wrap my arms around his neck and stare up into his darkening eyes.
“Mio marito.” He tilts his head. “Italian for my husband.”
“Mio marito,” I repeat after him.
Luca wraps an arm around my lower back, lifts my feet from the ground, then falls into the water with me.
The moment my head breaks through the surface, I laugh, “Shit, it’s cold.”
“I’ll warm you up soon enough,” he growls, his hand slipping between my legs.
“Let’s make the water sizzle,” I moan before slamming my mouth to his.
I savor his lips kneading and tasting mine as he slowly slips his middle finger in and out of me.
I brush a hand down his chest until my palm lays flat over his abs, drinking in the feel of the muscles rippling as he moves us to the side of the pool where it’s not so deep.