Tears swamped her eyes and a tremulous smile curved her mouth. Reaching up, she laid her hand on his cheek and sighed when he turned his head just far enough to plant a kiss in the center of her palm.
“What about before, Rico? The past. Will that always be there between us?”
That was one thing he was sure of. “I don’t care about the past, Teresa. All that matters to me is the future. Our future.”
“And my family?”
He slid a glance at Gianni, still watching them with a bemused expression on his face. “If I can handle the Kings, I think I can live with the Corettis.” He pointed a finger at the other man. “As long as they stay out of my hotels.”
“Agreed.” Gianni nodded.
“But you were going to let me leave,” Teresa complained, drawing his attention back to her. “Why?”
“Because you had to want to be here. With me. It had to be your choice,” he whispered now, as if only the two of them existed. “But if you had left, I promise you I would have followed.”
Her smile wobbled, then grew more bright. “Really?”
“I would have traipsed all over Europe and beyond, romancing you, seducing you, winning your heart until you chose to come home. With me.”
“Home?”
“Our home. Here. On Tesoro.”
“Our home, Rico, is anywhere we’re together.” She went up on her toes and kissed him lightly. “You are my family, Rico. And I will always choose you.”
Gianni cleared his throat and stood up, interrupting. “I will tell Papa what happened here. He’ll be disappointed that you’re not coming home, but I think he’ll understand.”
Teresa went to her brother and hugged him tightly. “Thank you, Gianni.”
He shrugged and kissed her forehead. “You should know,” he said, talking to Rico now, “Papa will probably want another wedding for you two—since we weren’t invited to the first one.”