Athene spent spring to summer on the island, preferring her Rome apartment and its greater convenience in the winter. Lizzie had grown to love her husband’s grandmother as much as she loved the rest of his family. He had been so blessed by all that love and warmth and to give him his due becoming a parent had made Cesare more sensitive towards his own relatives. He was much more relaxed with his large and convivial family than he had once been and his father and his sisters were frequent visitors to their homes in London, Tuscany and Lionos. Lizzie often teased her husband that she had stayed married to him because she couldn’t bear the thought of losing his family.
Sadly, since her marriage she had seen much less of her own father and sister. Brian Whitaker came on occasional visits but he didn’t like flying or foreign food or even people talking their own language in his vicinity. Lizzie had purchased a compact home for the older man in the village where he had grown up and he seemed as happy there as he would be anywhere. She had taken him to see a consultant for his Parkinson’s disease and he was on a new drug regimen and showing considerable improvement.
Disconcertingly, although Chrissie regularly hitched a flight home with Cesare when he was in London on business, she had become fiercely independent and now had secrets she was reluctant to share. Lizzie had watched anxiously from the sidelines of her sister’s life as things went badly wrong for the sibling she adored and troubled times rolled in. Cesare had advised her to let Chrissie stand on her own feet and not to interfere when Lizzie would more happily have rushed in and tried to wave a magic wand over Chrissie’s difficulties to make them vanish. She had had to accept that Chrissie was an adult with the right to make her own decisions...and her own mistakes. That said, however, she was still very close to her sister and very protective of her.
The helicopter finally appeared in the bright blue cloudless sky and descended out of sight behind the trees. Max was jumping up and down by that stage and clapping his hands. In a flash he was gone and running down the slope to greet his father with Archie chasing at his heels, shaggy ears flying, tongue hanging out.
‘Go ahead,’ a voice said softly from behind Lizzie. ‘I’ll sit with Gianna.’
Lizzie flashed a grateful smile at Athene and raced down the slope after her son like a teenager. Cesare took one look at his wife, pale hair flying, cheeks flushed below brilliant green eyes full of warmth and welcome, and set Max down again to open his arms.
‘I really missed you!’ Lizzie complained into his shoulder. ‘You’re far too missable.’
‘I’ll work on it,’ Cesare promised, smoothing her hair back from her brow, wondering whether or not he should admit that he had worked night and day to get back to her within a week. He missed his family more every time he left them behind and planned complex travel schedules that minimised his absences.
‘I shouldn’t be whingeing,’ Lizzie muttered guiltily, drinking in the familiar musky scent of his skin, her body quickening with the piercingly sweet pleasure-pain of desire that made her slim body quiver against his long, lean length.
‘It’s not whingeing. You missed me...I missed you, amata mia,’ Cesare said huskily. ‘We are so lucky to have found each other.’
They walked slowly back up the slope, Max swiftly overtaking them, Archie lagging behind. Cesare stilled to turn Lizzie round and curve loving hands to her cheeks to gaze down at the face he never tired of studying. ‘I’m crazy about you, Signora Sabatino.’
‘And me...about you.’ Beaming in the sunshine, Lizzie linked her arms round his neck and tilted her head back invitingly.
She slid into that kiss like melting ice cream, honeyed languor assailing her in the safe circle of his arms. Cesare was home and a rainbow burst of happiness made her feel positively buoyant.