He didn’t trust himself to. Not now. When he’d decided to give Olivia her time to think, he hadn’t meant this. He had things to say to her, important things to say to her, before they walked down that aisle. If they walked down that aisle. And he needed to be articulate about it.
He and Christian walked through the preceremony madness to the far driveway. The lead singer of Olivia’s favorite rock group ambled across the lawn, a cigarette hanging out of his mouth. Chairs were arranged in endless rows of white against the sweep of green facing the lake. The ceremony would take place on its shore.
He steadfastly ignored it all, sliding into the passenger seat of the Aventador beside Christian. Just over an hour later they walked into the Milanese apartment. The housekeeper gave him a scandalized look and asked what he was doing there, then relayed the information that no, Olivia was not there. She hadn’t seen her in a week.
Rocco mopped his brow. They were on their way out when his cell phone rang. He fished it out of his pocket, heart pounding, only to see it was Stefan.
“I thought you might like to know your fiancée is in the building. Well, actually,” he drawled, “not anymore. Alessandra and the wedding planner have whisked her off to wherever she’s supposed to be. That is, if you still want to marry her, because I can pass on a message. I would be thrilled to.”
Rocco’s pounding heart stopped in his chest. When it started again, he pressed the phone tighter to his ear. “Do not say one word to her. We’re on our way.”
As if anything else could go wrong, the main highway to Como was blocked by an accident on their return. They took the alternate, smaller highway, and this time Rocco commanded the wheel of the Aventador, pushed the pedal to the floor and prayed for time.
* * *
“They’re on their way back.”
Olivia peeled her gaze from the clear blue waters of Lake Como and nodded at Alessandra. After she’d spent the night with her mother in New York, they had driven to Brooklyn to banish Olivia’s final demon. She hadn’t been able to make herself visit Petra’s grave because to do so would be admitting she was gone. But she’d realized now, it was preventing her from moving on. And if she was to face this day with what was truly in her heart, she’d had to let her go.
It had been painful and tougher than she’d expected. But she’d left New York with the feeling the city would no longer haunt her. That she could come back to visit. And maybe it had been the first step in repairing her relationship with her mother.
They had arrived in Italy early this morning. Even though her heart had known what it had wanted, her head had been engaged in a final desperate effort to protect itself. Rocco might hurt her. But was that worth a lifetime of wondering if she’d let the love of her life slip away?
She’d finally made up her mind and arrived here hours ago, only to find Rocco and Christian engaged in a wild-goose chase to find her. Guilt had set in. Then panic as Alessandra and the wedding planner had rushed her off to the neighbor’s villa to get dressed prior to her arrival at the ceremony by boat. She hadn’t intended to leave it this late. She needed to talk to Rocco. And no one was listening to her.
“Please,” she said one more time to the wedding planner ninety minutes later as the flustered-looking blonde announced the men were back. “I need five minutes with Rocco.”
“Not doable,” the planner replied. “There are dignitaries who have to leave as soon as the ceremony is over, the fireworks are scheduled and we’re already almost half an hour late.” Her mouth compressed. “I told this to the men’s camp, too. You have the rest of your lives to talk once this is done, so please, focus.”
Rocco wanted to talk to her, too? Olivia started to argue, but the planner cut her off with a tersely delivered request to get her shoes on. She slid them on, pulled in a breath as Alessandra slipped her veil into place and straightened her shoulders. She was going to marry Rocco. She’d spent her entire life thinking she couldn’t rely on anyone but herself, refusing to allow herself to love. But now she was going to take a leap of faith, because she knew with Rocco by her side she could do anything.
If he didn’t kill her first for doing this.
* * *
The spray of the water split to the left and the right of the covered speedboat they rode in as Olivia and Alessandra were spirited toward Villa Mondelli. The sight of hundreds of wedding guests seated in chairs on the lawn, many of them foreign dignitaries she had never met, had her heart slamming against her chest as they neared the ornate front steps of the villa where Rocco’s sea creatures had visited.