‘No. I assumed that was because I still thought of her as my brother’s wife but I think it was more because she wasn’t my type and didn’t appeal to me on that level.’
‘But…I’ve seen photos of her and she’s incredibly pretty!’ Belle fired back at him in ridiculous challenge.
‘I’ve discovered that tall, curvy redheads are much more my style, amata mia,’ Cristo quipped. ‘Particularly ones who can give as good as they get in a row and can function as my intellectual equal.’
Belle dragged in a steadying breath before she could ask uncertainly, ‘Are you talking about me?’
‘Who else?’ Dark golden eyes locked to her bemused face and lingered. ‘After all, it was only because I fell in love with you that I learned to appreciate that I’d never been in love with Betsy.’
Mouth running dry, eyes wide, Belle was suddenly feeling very short of breath and even slightly dizzy, as if the floor below her feet were rocking. And indeed it might as well have been because it seemed that most of her pessimistic assumptions had been glaringly wrong. ‘You fell in love with me?’
‘And it was almost love at first sight,’ Cristo teased with a charismatic smile. ‘Before you decided to try and convince me that you were your mother and a forty-odd-year-old woman, I saw you crossing the lawn, wearing a pair of shorts, and you have curves and legs to die for,’ Cristo told her with a wicked grin.
‘You’re so superficial,’ Belle mumbled in a pained tone of amusement. So superficial but mine, she was thinking lovingly.
‘Not at all. I love your legs but I love your brain and your ready tongue more,’ Cristo confided without hesitation. ‘In fact there’s a whole host of things I like about you that have nothing to do with your very sexy appearance.’
‘Like…?’ Belle pressed shamelessly.
‘Your loyalty and love for your family, your kindness, your lack of greed,’ Cristo enumerated, moving closer step by step while Belle continued to survey him with wonder. He loved her, not Betsy, and her brain was struggling to process that alien conviction. She was not second-best; she was his first choice and he genuinely cared about her. The first heady spur of joy surged through her like a rejuvenating drug.
‘I like lots of things about you too,’ Belle burbled. ‘But I fell in love with you without knowing I was doing it. It was only when I thought you loved Betsy that I realised how I felt about you.’
‘Great minds think alike,’ Cristo purred, stroking the side of her face with a gentle forefinger. ‘You love me, I love you. We’re a perfect match.’
‘No, we’re imperfect but that’s okay…we’re only human,’ Belle mumbled unsteadily, her heart leaping behind her breastbone as Cristo drew her into his arms and eased her wonderfully, reassuringly close to his lean, powerful frame. ‘Oh, I can’t believe this…I was so miserable today!’
‘I would’ve told you how I felt about you then if you hadn’t been so angry I was afraid that you wouldn’t believe me,’ Cristo confessed. ‘Let’s face it, neither of us was looking for or expecting love in this marriage, but you turned out to be the best thing that’s ever happened to me and I think the family we already have will be the icing on the cake.’
Belle dealt him an anxious upward glance, afraid he was being too optimistic in his outlook. ‘But you can get lots of little problems too with family.’
‘And together we’ll deal with them,’ Cristo asserted huskily as he brushed his mouth very tenderly over hers, lifting his handsome dark head to stare down at her with tender love and appreciation softening his stunning gaze. ‘You’re mine, my love, my wife, my future…’
‘I like the sound o
f that very much,’ Belle admitted, snuggling into his broad chest with a happy sigh. ‘But you know when you said that it wouldn’t be worth my while learning Italian, I assumed you only saw me as a short-term prospect.’
‘Ma no…certainly not,’ Cristo chided huskily. ‘I only meant that these days I don’t spend a lot of time in Italy.’
‘I’d still like to learn.’
‘I love you,’ he told her in Italian and she repeated the words faithfully back with a little giggle as he backed her down on the bed with a clear agenda in mind.
*
Belle greeted her family with a shining smile the following morning. Isa beamed and said nothing. Franco was scolded for trying to steal off Cristo’s plate and Tag for snarling at Cristo’s ankles. Pietro and Lucia squabbled as usual. Donetta wanted to know when they were going shopping and Bruno was making rapturous comments about the quality of the light.
Below the level of the table, Cristo gripped Belle’s hand in his and breathed, ‘Family is what it’s all about, amata mia. My father missed out on so much.’
EPILOGUE
FOUR YEARS LATER, Belle stood at a cheval mirror and pulled her stretchy dress away from the very small bump she sported.
‘You’re pregnant. You’re supposed to be that shape,’ her grandmother told her reprovingly.
‘I’m putting on a lot of weight though,’ Belle groused, checking the generous curve of her bust and hips in the mirror as she turned round and pulled a face.
‘Not too much,’ Isa contradicted. ‘You’re very active and naturally you need to eat. At least you’re not as sick as your mother was when she was expecting.’