From the inside pocket of his jacket, Luca withdrew a miniature gold box the shape of a casket. He snapped it open and removed the ornate gold ring within. The star-shaped ruby caught the light in its rich depths.
Darcy caught her breath and gasped, 'This is it, isn't it...that wretched ring you thought I'd nicked?'
With a wolfish grin, Luca lifted her hand and slid the medieval ring onto her wedding finger. 'The Adorata...'
'It really is gorgeous,' Darcy whispered.
'Tradition holds that the Adorata is given to a Raffacani wife on the birth of the son and heir,' Luca shared huskily. 'But this is the nineties, and I think it's time it was awarded simply for the birth of the first child.'
'Yes, I like that,' Darcy told him appreciatively. 'None of that sexist rubbish about sons being more important in our family.'
Luca pressed his lips tenderly to the corner of her smiling mouth. 'I didn't quite have the nerve to ask before now but...is there any chance you might be expecting another baby?'
'Not unless you've come up with some very kinky way of ravishing me mentally...no, not this time, but maybe some other time,' she conceded softly, tenderly, as she laced her fingers blissfully through his luxuriant black hair. 'Gosh, I love having the right to mess up your hair...it's so tidy all the rest of the time!'
'I didn't like it when you said bankers were boring,' Luca confided.
'And then in that interview you said I was the most passionate man you had ever met.'
'You are...about me, about Zia. You're so intense beneath that cool front.' Darcy gave a little feeling wriggle to stress how much she liked that.
'Has anybody ever told you how unbelievably sexy you look in Wellington boots?'
She giggled, something she never did. 'I really, really believe that you love me now!'
Reaching up to claim his sensual mouth for herself again, Darcy gave herself up to the promise of a future full of blissful contentment and joy.