He drew back and looked down at me, his eyes serious and filled with a truth that cemented me in this time and place. In him. “I love you, angioletto. I was wrong to try to make you stay with me. If you ever want to leave—”
“Never. I will never want to leave you.”
“But if you do,” he insisted, “I won’t stop you. I won’t keep you trapped. You’re not my property. You’re not a kitten. We’re equals, Natalie. Always.”
Love swelled inside me. I rose up on my toes again and kissed him. And when he pulled me close and opened, taking charge of the kiss, I let him. I let him have everything and lost myself in the beauty and perfection of us.
When I was breathless, when I was ready to pull him toward the bed and show him just how serious I was about never leaving him, he eased back and quirked his lips in an adorable and mischievous way.
“What?” I asked.
“You’re a siren. And we don’t have time for what you’re thinking.”
I shivered and bit my lip, loving that he knew exactly what I wanted. “Are you sure? I can be quick.”
Laughing, he slid his fingers down my arms, then gripped my hand and pulled me after him. “I’m sure, vita mia. They’re waiting for us.”
He tugged my bedroom door open before I could stop him, and when I stepped into the living room, I faltered.
Over a dozen wedding gowns hung from racks that had been rolled in. And a handful of women—not just Bianca and the crew she’d brought with her, but Felicity and Luc’s sister as well—filled the room.
My eyes grew misty, and still clutching the phone in one hand, I leaned into Luc and swallowed hard, completely awed by what he’d done.
“Oh, I think that means she’s surprised,” Bianca said across the room with a laugh.
Luc grinned and pressed a kiss to my forehead. “Hopefully happy.”
I nodded emphatically against him, unable to find my voice just yet.
Thankfully, Felicity rushed to my side and rescued me. Taking the phone from my hand, she tugged me away from Luc. “Okay, go. Your part here is done. Get out of this cottage so we can get busy.”
Luc looked down at me. “Will you be okay?”
I blinked back a wave of happy tears and nodded.
“Six o’clock at the chapel. Fee will show you where it is. I’ll be the one in front with a goofy smile.”
I couldn’t help myself. I laughed and kissed him again, belatedly realizing I hadn’t even brushed my teeth yet. But he didn’t seem to care. He was grinning like the Cheshire cat.
“I’ll be the one in—” I dropped to my heels and quickly looked toward Bianca. “Oh, wait. What color am I wearing?”
Bianca’s stylish blonde bob swayed as she laughed. “Cara, every bride I dress has to wear white. It’s a rule.”
I looked back at Luc, unable to believe this was actually happening. I was getting married. Today. To the man I was never walking away from again. “Okay, I guess I’ll be the one in white.”
He smiled and leaned down to kiss me once more, but his sister Ariana wiggled her way between us and pushed both hands against his chest, forcing him back and away from me.
“Uh-uh. Get out of here already,” Ariana said. “We’ve got work to do, mister, and so do you. Hasn’t anyone ever told you it’s bad luck to see the bride on her wedding day?”
Luc flashed me a conspiratorial look, and I grinned, knowing exactly what he was thinking. After everything we’d already been through, we could handle any bad luck fate tried to hurl our way.
“She’s right,” Fee said at my side. “Marco’s outside waiting for you. Try to keep my man in line, would you? He’s going to go apeshit over all this wedding stuff.”
Luc smirked, then winked at me. “Okay, okay, I’m going.”
Looking more relaxed than I’d seen him since Venice, he crossed to the front door, reached for his sunglasses from the table in the entryway, then stopped.
“I almost forgot.” He tugged his ring from his finger, then turned and pitched it to me from across the room. “Hold this for me, angioletto.”
I caught his ring with both hands, and looked down at the black band edged in platinum, still warm from his finger.
With a wink, he said, “I’ll get it back from you in a few hours.” To his sister, he said, “Get hers for me at some point, okay?”
Ariana ushered him out the door. “Go already. Sheesh.”
When he was finally gone, she turned back to me, her dark hair with that one white lock near the front swaying behind her. A wide smile spread across her face. “Okay, let’s try on some gowns.”
I’d never been the kind of girl to go giddy over a dress, but I had to admit, this lit me up.
“Champagne first,” Felicity called from the kitchen, returning with glasses and an already open bottle of bubbly. “Then mani-pedis, makeup, and hair. We’ve got a full day, ladies.” She filled a glass and handed the first to me with a grin. “Bet you had no idea this was what you were coming back to today.”
I couldn’t keep the smile from my face as I sipped my drink. No, I’d had no idea. And I wouldn’t change it for the world.
The day was a blur.
After being completely pampered by Bianca and the staff of five she’d brought with her—hair, nails, makeup, even a massage after my shower—I’d finally settled on a strapless silk gown with a taffeta underlayer that was fitted all the way to my feet, then flowed out behind me in a simple train.
The style was elegant and clean and hugged every curve, which I knew Luc would like, but the best part was the pattern laser cut into the silk of the dress—circles and arcs and bends that resembled the pattern in a butterfly’s wings.
The moment I’d seen it, I’d known it was my dress. And from the smile on Bianca’s face when she held it up for me, I was sure she’d brought it because she’d anticipated I’d know exactly what it represented.
Not the mind-controlled beta slaves House Salvatici wanted their women to be, but the epitome of a strong, independent, resilient woman who’d been through a massive transformation.
Me.
I was a butterfly in every sense of the word.
I don’t remember picking shoes or earrings or even the veil. I let Bianca and Felicity and Ariana do all that for me. I don’t even remember climbing in the golf cart and someone driving me across the property to the old stone chapel on the other side of the main house as the sun began to set. I do remember Bianca handing me a simple bouquet of white roses outside the chapel, its doors open, the interior illuminated by dozens of candles. And I remember her hugging me tight and telling me that Luc was a very lucky man because he’d found me.
But she was wrong. I was the lucky one. Nothing in life was guaranteed, but I knew this love—our love—was built to last. It was the only thing I knew with absolute certainty.
He was waiting for me at the end of the short aisle, just as he’d said he would be, with the biggest grin I’d ever seen on his face. The chapel was tiny, only four or five rows of pews on each side and a small altar against the back wall, but it was decked out with dozens of flowers and candles, the flames flickering in his smiling eyes as I drew close. And when I reached him, he immediately pulled me close and pressed his lips against mine as if he hadn’t seen me in days.