Epilogue
Five years later
Violet was daydreaming as she sat on the loggia at the villa.
Most of her happiest memories were related to their Tuscan home.
A year after their wedding, they had enjoyed a blessings ceremony staged in the villa chapel.
She had worn the wedding dress of her dreams, pearl roses on her shoes and silk flowing round her.
She had walked to the altar with her mother, Lucia, Tabitha acting as her maid of honour.
It had been a glorious day and it had more than made up for the deficiencies of that first wedding of strangers, united only in misunderstanding.
Her mother’s illness was currently in remission.
The new drug had worked. Lucia had put on a little weight and freed of the strain of her disease, she had recovered her spirits.
Soon after her return home to the UK, Violet’s grandfather, Tomaso, had passed away during heart surgery.
Lucia had been stunned to discover that in spite of all the years of estrangement, her father had not changed his will.
She had duly inherited her childhood home and her father’s entire estate.
Now she lived there comfortably with her best friend and was within easy reach of London, enabling her to freely meet up with her daughters and her grandchildren for days out.
The bakery had turned into a small chain of four scattered across London, and Violet only baked at home for her family now.
Tore had persuaded her to hire more people and expand once he realised how successful the business was.
She loved running the bakeries but she did not miss those dawn starts.
In fact, now that they spent most of their time in Italy and the children went to school there, she was less and less a hands-on boss but she was grateful to have the ability to spend more time with the children while they were still young.
‘Mama…’ a firm little voice said.
Violet looked up to see her daughter, Belle, coming up the steps towards her, a very pretty slight girl of almost six years old, who occasionally talked like a judgemental little old lady. ‘Sofia got stuck up a tree…’ she complained. ‘You can’t take her anywhere without her getting in trouble.’
Violet flew up out of her seat immediately. ‘Where is she? In the woods?’
‘Papa got her down and he hugged her because she was crying and then her and Enzo had a stupid fight. He wanted to be the one who climbed that tree and she beat him to it.’
‘Your father’s back early?’ Smiling, her concern evaporating, Violet wandered to the top of the steps to watch out for her husband because he had been out of the country for a week on business.
Their twins, Sofia and Enzo, were four now.
That pregnancy had been tough for Violet and it had taken a while for her to consider a second pregnancy.
A lively team, the twins ran wild at the villa.
Belle had never run wild in spite of encouragement.
Belle liked everything just so and she was very feminine, preferring dresses to shorts or jeans.
She hated to get dirty and had never climbed a tree in her life.
She was a terrific reader, though, and she adored animals.
Sofia, in comparison, was a real little tomboy, who rarely sat still and who was more likely to get into mischief than her brother.
Enzo was Tore to the life, a rule follower, very clever and thoughtful and always careful.
Enzo, however, had inherited his father’s silver gilt hair, which had delighted his mother.
All their kids adored Aldo and Matilde, who only lived half an hour away from them and were regular visitors.
In Italy they enjoyed a large gregarious family circle and they always spent July at the castello where the children could play with their cousins and enjoy the beach.
The children spoke Italian like natives while Violet was still stumbling a little in conversations in spite of the lessons she’d had.
Tore saw his wife awaiting him at the top of the steps.
It was their fifth anniversary and his grandparents were on the way to pick up the children and give their parents a quiet weekend.
Violet was wearing denim shorts and a bright white top and he started to smile.
She was glowing like the firecracker she was.
She looked amazing. Five years had whizzed by in the blink of an eye and Violet still sizzled him to the bone.
She had set him free from his rule-following routine and he had eventually taken the hint and learned how to dance, although he was still a far-from-keen participant.
Tonight they were dining out in Siena at their favourite restaurant.
Sofia shouted and started running as their great-grandparents’ SUV purred up the drive.
Violet called to bring the dogs, Fabio and Luna, back indoors and stop them from chasing the car.
The labradoodles eventually obeyed but they were fairly laid-back about doing so until Tore shouted at them, whereupon they lowered their tails and slunk up on to the loggia.
‘Why do they always listen to you and not me?’ Violet demanded irritably.
‘Because you have a soft voice…except when you’re shouting at me,’ Tore added with humour, his stunning green eyes glittering.
‘That doesn’t happen very often now,’ she chided. ‘I’m much calmer than I used to be.’
Tore tried not to grin. If Violet got any more laid-back she would be horizontal. There was a hiatus as his grandparents arrived and the kids and their luggage piled into the SUV and Aldo and Matilde drove off, everyone on board talking at the same time.
‘Give me ten minutes for a shower,’ Tore told her.
‘I thought we could share it,’ Violet murmured, stretching up to lace her hands round his neck.
‘You do have the very best ideas, mia lucciola. It’s been a very long week,’ Tore commented as he shed his suit at speed, none of his usual tidy traits identifiable in that moment. ‘I missed you.’
Violet hurtled into the shower ahead of him, shrieking when he splashed her.
‘You’re very lively for a birthday girl,’ he remarked as he showered, water gushing down over his washboard abs.
Just looking at all that muscled, bronze perfection made her mouth run dry.
As she sank down on the bench, he reached for her and tugged her up against him instead.
He pushed her wet hair back from her brow and stared down at her animated face.
‘It’s time to make the big announcement,’ he told her softly.
‘You can’t have guessed!’
‘You haven’t had a glass of wine in weeks,’ he pointed out. ‘I was waiting for you to tell me and you didn’t so I began to worry that something was wrong.’
‘No, no, nothing wrong,’ she hastened to assure him. ‘I was waiting for the results of the blood test. In six months we’ll have another little boy and thankfully, it’s a single pregnancy,’ she imparted with a bewitching grin.
‘That’s wonderful news. You’re saying that I’ve been worrying about nothing?’ Tore demanded with a frown.
‘That’s what you do, which is why I didn’t want to tell you until I knew absolutely everything about this pregnancy,’ she reasoned. ‘I planned to tell you over our meal tonight but a public place wouldn’t feel right.’
‘No, there are certain things we can’t do in public unless we are very, very sure we’re alone,’ Tore purred, thinking of stolen idyllic moments in the woods or on picnics at the Calabrian farm.
He claimed her lips in a passionate kiss of affirmation as he stroked skilled hands over her wet curves, caressing tender flesh to make her squirm and moan until those little familiar sounds began to rise to a peak.
Only then did he bring her down on him, sleekly shifting her in one direction and then another so that the pleasure of his hungry possession sent her flying to the heights and tipped her over the edge.
In the restaurant, Tore surveyed his beautiful wife, clad in something red, short and elegant, appreciating the flame in her flushed cheeks and bright eyes in the candlelight.
His woman, his wife, the mother of his children, and his heart swelled with happiness that he had found her and had the sense to hang on to her.
‘I love you very much, mia lucciola,’ he said thickly, covering her slender hand with his own.
‘And I love you,’ she whispered with her heart in her eyes as she revelled in the simple pleasure of being with him again.