The Helen Bianchin Collection. HELEN BIANCHIN

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СКАЧАТЬ she walked towards Carlo he flouted convention and turned to face her. She saw the glimpse of fierce pride mingling with admiration, love meshing with adoration. Then he smiled. For her, only for her.

      Everything else faded to the periphery of her vision, for she saw only him, and her smile matched his own as she moved forward and stood at his side.

      Carlo reached for her hand and covered it with his own as the priest began the ceremony.

      The substitution reaffirmation of their vows seemed to take on an electric significance as the guests assimilated the change of words.

      Renewed pledges, the exchange of rings, and the long, passionate kiss that undoubtedly would become a topic of conversation at many a dinner table for months to come.

      There was music, not the usual hymn, but a poignant song whose lyrics brought a lump to many a guest’s throat. A few feminine tears brought the use of fine cotton handkerchiefs when the groom leaned forward and gently kissed his bride for the second time.

      Then Aysha took Carlo’s arm and walked out of the church and into the sunshine to face a barrage of photographers.

      It was Lianna who organised the children and cajoled them to behave with decorum during the photographic shoot. Aysha hid a smile at the thought they were probably so intimidated they didn’t think to do anything but obey.

      ‘She’s going to drive some poor man mad,’ Carlo declared with a musing smile, and Aysha laughed, a low, sparkling sound that was reflected in the depths of her eyes.

      ‘And he’ll adore every minute of it,’ she predicted.

      The shift to the reception venue was achieved on schedule, and Aysha turned to look at Carlo as their limousine travelled the short distance from the church.

      ‘You were right,’ she said quietly. ‘I wouldn’t have missed the church service for the world.’

      His smile melted her bones, and her stomach executed a series of crazy somersaults as he took her hands to his lips and kissed each one in turn.

      ‘I’ll carry the image of you walking towards me down the aisle for the rest of my life.’

      She traced a gentle finger down the vertical crease of his cheek and lingered at the edge of his mouth. ‘Now we get to cut the cake and drink champagne.’

      ‘And I get to dance with my wife.’

      ‘Yes,’ she teased mercilessly. ‘After the speeches, the food, the photographs...’

      ‘Then I get to take you home.’

      Oh, my. She breathed unsteadily. How was she going to get through the next few hours?

      With the greatest of ease, she reflected several hours later as they circled the guests and made their farewells.

      Teresa deserved tremendous credit, for without doubt she had staged the production of her dreams and turned it into the wedding of the year. Press coverage, the media, the church, ceremony, catering, cake... Everything had gone according to plan, except for a few minor hiccups.

      A very special day, and one Aysha would always treasure. But it was the evening she and Carlo had exchanged their wedding vows that would remain with her for the rest of her life.

      Saying goodbye to her parents proved an emotional experience, for among their happiness and joy she could sense a degree of sadness at her transition from daughter to wife.

      Tradition died hard, and Aysha hugged them tight and conveyed her appreciation not only for the day and the night, but for the care and devotion they’d accorded her from the day she was born.

      There was confetti, rice, and much laughter as they escaped to the limousine. A short drive to an inner city hotel, and then the ascent by lift to the suite Carlo had booked for the night.

      Aysha gave a startled gasp as he released the door then swept her into his arms and carried her inside.

      ‘Now,’ he began teasingly, as he pulled her close. ‘I get to do this.’

      This was a very long, intensely passionate kiss, and she just held on and clung as she met and matched his raw, primitive desire.

      Then he gently released her and crossed to the table, where champagne rested on ice.

      Aysha watched as Carlo loosened the cork on the bottle of champagne.

      Froth spilled from the neck in a gentle spume, and she laughed softly as he picked up a flute to catch the foaming liquid.

      ‘I’ve done that successfully at least a hundred times.’ He partly filled another, then he handed her one, and touched the rim with his own. ‘To us.’

      Her mouth curved to form a generous smile, and her eyes... A man could drown in those luminous grey depths, at times mysterious, winsome, wicked. Today they sparkled with warmth, laughter and love. He wanted to reach out and pull her into his arms. Hold and absorb her until she was part of him, and never let go.

      ‘Happiness, always,’ said Aysha gently, and sipped the fine champagne.

      He placed the bottle and the flute down onto the coffee table, then he gently cradled her face between both hands.

      ‘I love you.’ His mouth closed over hers in a soft, open-mouthed kiss which reduced her to a quivering boneless mass.

      ‘Have I told you how beautiful you looked today?’ Carlo queried long minutes later.

      After three times she’d stopped counting. ‘Yes,’ she teased, pressing a finger against the centre of his lower lip. Her eyes dilated as he took the tip into his mouth and began to caress it slowly with his tongue.

      Heat suffused her veins, coursing through her body until she was on fire with need.

      ‘There’s just one thing.’

      He buried his mouth in its palm. ‘Anything.’

      ‘Fool,’ she accorded gently, and watched in fascination as his expression assumed a seriousness that was at variance with the day, the hour, the moment.

      ‘Anything, cara,’ he repeated solemnly. ‘Any time, anywhere. All you have to do is ask.’

      She closed her eyes, then slowly opened them. It frightened her to think she had so much power over this man. It was a quality she intended to treat with the utmost respect and care.

      ‘I have something for you.’

      ‘I don’t need anything,’ Carlo assured her. ‘Except you.’

      She kissed him briefly. ‘I’m not going anywhere.’ What she sought reposed within easy reach, and she took the few steps necessary to extract the white envelope, then she turned and placed it in his hand.

      ‘Cara? What is this?’

      A telephone call, specific instructions, a lecture on the necessity to protect her interests, and time out in a very hectic schedule to attach her signature in the presence СКАЧАТЬ