Название: The Wedding Party And Holiday Escapes Ultimate Collection
Автор: Кейт Хьюит
Издательство: HarperCollins
Жанр: Контркультура
Серия: Mills & Boon e-Book Collections
isbn: 9781474067744
isbn:
‘Of course I am.’ Liana’s lips trembled as she tried to smile. ‘I’m a bit of a slow learner, myself. I love you, Sandro, but it scared me for a long time, to feel that much, never mind admitting it. But I do love you. So very much.’
He framed her face with his hands, brought her closer to him so her forehead rested against his. They stayed that way for a moment, neither of them speaking, everything in Liana aching with emotion and a new, deeper happiness than she’d ever felt before. A happiness based on total honesty, deep and abiding love.
‘We’re quite a pair, aren’t we?’ he murmured. ‘Wanting love and being afraid of it at the same time.’
She pressed one hand to his cheek, revelling in the feel of him, and the fact that he was here, that he’d come back and he loved her. ‘Love is pretty scary,’ she said, a smile in her voice, and Sandro nodded, his forehead bumping against hers.
‘Terrifying, frankly.’
She let out a shaky laugh and put her arms around him. ‘Definitely terrifying. But I do love you, Sandro.’
‘And I love you.’ He kissed her gently on the lips, a promise and a seal. ‘And since it seems that we’re both slow learners, it will take us a long time to figure this love out. I think,’ he continued as he drew her closer and deepened the kiss, ‘it will take the rest of our lives.’
One year later
LIANA SMOOTHED THE satin skirt of the gown, admired the admittedly over-the-top ruffles of lace that fell to the floor.
She turned to Sandro with a smile and a shake of her head. ‘I can’t believe you wore this.’
‘If I’d been a little more self-aware at the time, I’m sure I would have been mortified.’
‘Well, you were only three months old,’ she teased. ‘Isabella seems to like it, at any rate.’
‘She’s a smart girl.’
They both gazed down at their daughter, Isabella Chiara Alexa Diomedi, her eyes already turning the silver-grey of her father’s, her dimpled smile reminding Liana with a bittersweet joy of her sister.
With a smile for her daughter, Liana scooped her up and held her against her shoulder, breathed in her warm baby scent.
‘Careful,’ Sandro warned. ‘You just fed her and she likes to give a little bit of that back.’ He gave a mock grimace. ‘I should know. The palace dry-cleaning bill has skyrocketed since this little one’s arrival.’
‘I don’t mind.’
There was nothing she minded about taking care of her daughter. She was just so happy, so incredulously grateful, to have the opportunity. Isabella’s birth had been, in its own way, a healing; no one could replace Chiara, but her daughter’s birth had eased the long-held grief of losing her sister.
A gentle knock sounded on the door, and then her mother poked her head in. ‘May I come in?’
Liana felt herself tense. Her parents had arrived last night for Isabella’s christening; she hadn’t actually seen them save for a few formal functions since her wedding. And as usual when she saw her mother, she felt the familiar rush of guilt and regret, tempered now by Sandro’s love and her daughter’s presence, but still there. Already she could hear the note of apology creep into her voice.
‘Of course, Mother. We’re just getting Isabella ready for the ceremony.’
Gabriella Aterno stepped into the room, her features looking fragile and faded as always, her smile hesitant and somehow sad.
Sandro stepped forward. ‘Would you like to hold her?’
‘Oh—may I?’
‘Of course,’ Liana said, and, with her heart full of too many emotions to name, she handed her daughter to her mother.
Gabriella looked down into Isabella’s tiny, impish face and let out a ragged little laugh. ‘She has Chiara’s dimples.’
Liana felt a flash of shock; her mother had not mentioned Chiara once since her sister’s funeral. Twenty-one years of silence.
‘She does,’ she agreed quietly. ‘And her smile.’
‘Perhaps she’ll have her dark curls.’ Gently Gabriella fingered Isabella’s wispy, dark hair. ‘You two were always so different in looks. No one would have thought you were sisters, save for the way you loved each other.’ She looked up then, her eyes shining with tears, the grief naked in her face, and Liana knew how much just those few sentences had cost her.
‘Oh, Mother,’ she whispered. She swallowed past the tightness in her throat. ‘I’m so sorry—’
‘I’m sorry Chiara isn’t here to see her niece,’ Gabriella said. ‘But I like to think she still sees, from somewhere.’
‘Me too.’ Liana blinked hard, focused on her daughter in her mother’s arms, and said what had been burning inside her for too many years. ‘I’m sorry I didn’t save her.’
Gabriella jerked her head up, her eyes wide with shock. ‘Save her? Liana, you were eight years old.’
‘I know, but I was there.’ Liana blinked hard, but it was too late. The tears came anyway. ‘I saw— I watched—’
‘And you’ve blamed yourself all this time,’ Gabriella said softly. ‘Oh, my dear.’
‘Of course I blamed myself,’ Liana answered, batting uselessly at the tears that trickled down her cheeks. ‘And you blamed me too, Mother, and Father as well. I’m not angry—I understand why—’ She choked on the words, felt Sandro’s comforting hand on her shoulder, and she pressed her cheek against it, closed her eyes against the rush of pain and tried to will the tears back.
‘Liana, my dear, we blamed ourselves,’ Gabriella confessed, her voice trembling with emotion. ‘Of course we did—we were her parents. She was our responsibility, not yours.’
Liana opened her eyes, stared at her mother’s grief-stricken face. ‘But you never said anything,’ she whispered. ‘Father hasn’t even so much as hugged me since—’
‘We didn’t like to talk about it,’ Gabriella told her. ‘As I’m sure you realised. Not because of you, though, but because of us. We felt so wretchedly guilty. I still do.’
‘Oh, Mother, no—’ Impulsively and yet instinctively Liana went to put her arms around Gabriella, the baby between them.
‘All three of us have been consumed by guilt, it seems,’ Gabriella said with a sniff. ‘And I know your father and I didn’t handle it properly back then, or ever. We should have been there for you, spoken to you about it, helped you to grieve. We were too wrapped up in our own pain, and I’m СКАЧАТЬ