She pretended to think it over. ‘I’m working on it.’
Dante pulled her close. ‘Always I am the peacemaker, in the business and with my family,’ he said bitterly. ‘Unlike Leo, who can be abrasive—that is right? I am the one who pours the oil on the troubled waters. Yet on my wedding night I accuse my bride of sins she has not committed.’
‘True. You’ll just have to spend the rest of our honeymoon making it up to me,’ she ordered.
‘With much, much pleasure, amore! I have given instructions to my family to leave us in peace at the Villa Castiglione for a while when they return from England tomorrow.’ Dante raised his head to look down at her. ‘They were surprised that you did not want somewhere exotic for our honeymoon.’
‘I just wanted to start our life together at the Villa without our little darling for a couple of weeks.’ Rose sighed as she stretched against him. ‘You know, even with the marriage vows to prove it, I can hardly believe that we’re here together at last, Dante.’
He drew her closer. ‘To have you here in my arms as my wife is a dream come true, tesoro.’
‘I never dared to dream anything so unlikely!’ She smiled up at him. ‘Even though the first day we met I knew who you were before we were even introduced.’
‘I knew at first sight that you were the love of my life, carissima,’ he said huskily. ‘So who did you think I was?’
‘The man of my dreams. But dreams were all I had for years, Dante.’
‘Now we have the glorious reality, yes?’
‘We certainly do. Shall I tell you something else, Dante?’
‘Anything you wish amore.’ His arms tightened. ‘Will I like this something?’
Rose nodded and rubbed her cheek against his, which, she noted lovingly, was already showing signs of needing a shave. ‘I used to tell myself that one day my prince would come, and now here he is at last, right here in my arms.’
‘Where he intends to stay,’ said Dante with emphasis and then shook his head. ‘But I am no prince, tesoro.’
‘You are in my fairy tale!’
He gave her the smile he shared with his child. ‘And because I have read many fairy tales to our daughter I know exactly how they end—we live happily ever after!’
* * *
By the end of the fortnight, blissfully happy though her honeymoon had been, Rose was in a fever of excitement at the airport in Pisa as she saw her child running towards them with Grace in pursuit and Tom, laden with luggage, following behind.
There was a laughing collision as Rose seized her child, and Dante caught them both in his encircling arms and kissed his daughter’s beaming face as she talked non-stop.
Rose gave Bea a smacking kiss and then hugged Grace. ‘How’s Gramma?’
‘Doing fine,’ her mother assured her. ‘Bea was no trouble at all except for the odd tear when she realised she was missing you.’ She turned to Tom. ‘We enjoyed having her to ourselves, didn’t we?’
Tom dumped down the luggage to kiss Rose. ‘We had Charlotte and Fabio’s help for the first week, but the rest of it was excellent practice for when the first little Vilari arrives.’ He held out his hand to Dante, smiling. ‘No need to ask how you are!’