Название: From Venice With Love
Автор: Alison Roberts
Издательство: HarperCollins
Жанр: Короткие любовные романы
Серия: Mills & Boon M&B
isbn: 9781474066051
isbn:
‘You had business, you said.’
‘I did. But I did not have to leave you to do it. I was afraid of what might happen if I stayed.’
‘Raoul,’ she said, her heart tripping, ‘What are you saying?’
‘A long time ago I vowed never to marry again. I promised myself that I would never take another wife. But last night, in your bed, I came close to breaking that vow—so close that it scared me.’
Every cell in her body froze; her lungs squeezed tight, so tight she could barely get out the words. ‘I don’t think I understand.’
‘I panicked this morning. I behaved stupidly and left you, and I hurt you and made you angry when that was the last thing I wanted to do. What I really wanted to do was ask you, Bella, if you would do me the honour of becoming my wife.’
‘Raoul …’
‘I know I don’t deserve it, Bella. I know I am the last person you would want to marry, and the least deserving, but would you consider my proposal anyway? Would you marry me?’
‘You’re serious. You’re actually serious.’
‘I have never been more serious in my life.’
She looked up at him, his eyes so intent that for a second she was tempted—oh, so tempted—to fall into those dark depths and believe him.
But, no! She shook her head and started walking down the beach away from him, her heart thumping like a drum, making so much noise it was no surprise she couldn’t think straight. ‘Raoul, that’s just crazy.’
‘Don’t you think I know that?’ she heard him call. ‘Don’t you see why I couldn’t face you this morning?’
No. She couldn’t think. And she couldn’t see that. She couldn’t see anything, not with the sudden tears streaming down her face as she stumbled along the sand.
She wasn’t even sure what she was running from. Didn’t she want Raoul to want her? Except that it almost seemed too much, too soon. Too perfect. Too imperfect. Oh God, what should she believe?
‘Bella!’ he yelled, catching her arm, pulling her to him.
‘You didn’t want me here,’ she remembered as she slammed into his hard chest. ‘You never wanted me to come to Venice in the first place, and yet now you tell me you want to marry me?’ She punched him on the arm, on the shoulder, would have punched him on his chin if his wrist hadn’t snagged hers and dragged it down where her fist could do no damage. ‘So what are you trying to prove by asking me to marry you?’
‘What are you trying to prove? I’ve told you I want to marry you. Why do you fight that? After the night we shared, why can’t you believe that?’
She shook her head. ‘That was one night! We need more time. It’s too soon.’
‘I thought it was too soon. How could I think of breaking a promise I had made for life after such a short time with you? Don’t you think I have tortured myself all day for leaving you like I did? For leaving you thinking I didn’t care?
‘But let me make it plain—this is not about one night. Because I wanted you the moment I first set eyes on you. I wanted you then, Bella. I want you now. And I am willing to break every vow I have ever made in my life to have you, if you will only have me.’
‘But wouldn’t it be more sensible to wait?’
‘Why wait, when we feel this way? Why live apart when we are made to be together? Because if I am not mistaken you feel it too, don’t you? You feel this magic between us. Do you really believe this is going to go away? Why should we wait when we are so good together?’
There was something exciting about his words, something urgent and powerful that tugged on that part of her that wanted to believe him. Wanted to believe his words were true—maybe because they so closely mirrored her own feelings.
She didn’t really want to leave. Logic told her she should, but her heart would always stay here with Raoul, no matter how far she moved, no matter where she lived.
But still he hadn’t said the words that she so wanted to hear. ‘You tell me how much I mean to you, and yet you haven’t told me that you love me.’
‘Haven’t I?’ He took her in his arms and kissed her then, so deep and deliciously that it felt like his kiss had touched her very soul and sworn his love. ‘But then, if I didn’t love you, why else would I want to marry you?’
He kissed her again and she knew she had not imagined it the first time—that there was no way he could not love her, not when his kiss touched her so deeply, not when she knew in her heart he was the man for her.
It might be crazy, rash and all kinds of madness, but it was a madness they clearly both shared—and what point was logic and waiting when what you wanted was clearly right?
‘You are really sure about this?’ she asked one final time to be sure of what he was asking. ‘You really are serious about wanting to marry me?’
‘I have never been more serious in my life.’
And the zipper of heat that flushed out from her spine confirmed that she had no choice, no choice at all …
‘Then I will marry you, Raoul. Please, yes, I will marry you.’
‘I so wish Umberto could be here,’ she mused as Phillipa handed her the bouquet, a glorious rose concoction in soft apricot, peach and cream colours from which long ribbons fluttered. It was two minutes before the wedding ceremony was due to get underway and they were expecting a knock at the door at any moment to let them know it was time. Meanwhile she had time to think about Umberto and a moment they had both missed out on.
‘He would be so proud of you,’ Phillipa said.
Gabriella could only agree. Umberto would have had no objections to her marrying Raoul. He would have approved wholeheartedly, no doubt, which was some consolation, given he was not here to give her away. She just wished he could be here to see how she looked today.
The beaded gown clung to her body like a second skin and the hours she’d put in today at the spa and hair salon had been well worth it. Her skin was smooth, her nails perfectly manicured and her hair had been pulled up into a classic style, sleek and polished, with a few tendrils coiling around her face, a face that today even she conceded came close to beautiful. That was probably more due to the fact she couldn’t stop smiling rather than her perfectly applied make-up, but whatever it was it was working.
Today she felt like a princess from some long-ago fairy tale about to marry her fairy-tale prince. And the only thing that could have made her feel better was her grandfather being here to see her get married.
‘Strange, really, how it was Umberto’s death that brought Raoul and me together. Do you think he’ll be here somewhere today watching over us?’
‘I know he will. And he will be as happy for you as the rest of us are.’
She СКАЧАТЬ