‘I’ve only just found out, and time is of the essence.’
‘What is the request?’ she pressed, fearing the worst, and hoping her father hadn’t asked Luca’s team for money.
Releasing his end of the legal papers, Luca stepped back to explain. ‘He’s extremely happy for you, and glad things have worked out. He wants to reassure you that he’s keen to leave his old life behind, and his only wish is to live in the Highlands as a crofter where he once owned some land.’
Until her ex stole it from him, Samia remembered unhappily.
‘This is a fortunate turn of events,’ Luca assured her, ‘as I own an estate in Scotland.’ Of course he did, she thought incredulously, happily, fondly. ‘My gamekeeper and his team are the best of men, and would like to help your father. I hope that’s a satisfactory conclusion to your concern?’
It was so much to take in she could only nod her head dumbly. ‘How can I ever thank you?’ she said hoarsely at last.
A flicker of humour flared in Luca’s eyes. ‘By marrying me?’ he suggested.
The helicopter brought another captain on board. His colleague would marry them, Luca explained when he left Samia reading the documents he’d brought to her stateroom as proof of his intentions. She impressed him by handing over her own document of wishes and reassurances, which she asked him to sign. These were hastily written, not by a legal team, as his were, with endless checks and balances throughout, but emotional, and small. She expected so little. Her bar was set very low, which made him want to give her the world. It was a shame that things had to be so calculated and rushed like this, but he didn’t want to risk her backing out once she got to Madlena. After a harsh start in life, stumbling from one crisis to the next as she attempted to shore up her parents’ chaotic existence, Samia deserved a proper courtship, and a man who could offer both his undivided attention and unstinting devotion. That man was not Luca. He had a country to put first, a reputation to salvage, and a brother he still mourned. Slim pickings for a bride whose imagination took her on endless flights of fancy, and, in spite of his devotion to duty, he only wished he could offer her more.
Domenico gave her away. They’d formed a bond in the short time they’d known each other, and she’d eagerly accepted his kind offer. Two members of the crew played the wedding march on guitars as she walked across the deck towards her fate, and the rest of the crew had assembled to wish her well. Only Luca’s eyes were narrowed as he surveyed her. Was he disappointed in his choice of bride?
Too bad, she thought with what little remained of natural humour on this most daunting of days.He’s got me now. How must Luca be feeling?she wondered as she closed the distance between them. Was any bride fit for a prince of his standing?
‘I do,’ she stated firmly when the question was asked. This was her duty. A new life for her father beckoned. If there could be a better outcome, she couldn’t imagine what it might be. Luca had been very generous, both with her father’s pension, and with his wedding gift to Samia of a handwritten reassurance from the gamekeeper leading the caring community her father would be joining on Luca’s Scottish estate. She could be confident her father would be given the best possible chance to recover when he was welcomed into the remote Highland village. She glanced heavenward in what she knew was a childish gesture, almost as if to reassure her mother that everything would be okay now.
‘I have great pleasure in pronouncing you man and wife.’
It was done.
‘You may kiss your bride...’
Luca had never seemed more imposing or more intimidating as he brushed her lips with his. Sensing the savage power within his muscular body, as yet supremely controlled, but due to be unleashed that same evening, she trembled. So tall he blotted out the sun, and so blisteringly masculine she felt swamped in his arms, for a moment she panicked, wondering how on earth she could go through with this marriage, and all it entailed.
‘Don’t be afraid, little one,’ Luca whispered in her ear. ‘I’ll take care of you now...’
Extricating herself from his embrace with as much dignity as she could muster while they were surrounded by well-wishers, all of whom—with the possible exception of Domenico—no doubt imagined that they were witnessing a fairy-tale romance, she smiled up at him serenely.
‘Thank you...’ Any further commentary she might wish to make on Luca’s choice of endearment could wait.
‘Do you like your wedding band?’
‘I love it.’ Samia realised she was twirling it round and round her finger. At least one thing was right about today. The slim platinum band represented everything she believed about love and commitment. It needed no adornment. It simply was. Or was not, in this case.
‘The twist of your mouth suggests otherwise,’ Luca observed as they sat at a dining table set for two. He’d dismissed the stewards so they were alone on deck. ‘It was better not to have a formal wedding banquet to sit through,’ he’d said. He wanted to protect Samia from other people’s curiosity. Conversation would be necessarily stilted between the guests, as everyone tried to get up to speed with the bride, and what had happened beneath the radar to result in this hectic wedding. They would wonder where her family was, and if anyone apart from insiders knew this was happening.
‘No. Seriously. I love my wedding ring,’ she assured him. ‘You couldn’t have chosen anything better.’
‘Then, why are you so quiet?’
She stared at him levelly. ‘First, even though I never took the option off the table for myself, I never actually imagined I’d ever get married again. That I did so in such a rush obviously gives me pause for thought. Then, if I’m completely honest, I always imagined that somewhere in my future I might meet someone, and love them as they loved me.’
‘That’s your romantic side flexing its muscles again.’
‘And I’m not ashamed of it.’
‘Nor should you be,’ Luca said as he topped up their champagne. ‘Should I have given you a chance to change your clothes?’ he added as they chinked glasses.
‘Into something less comfortable?’ she teased weakly. ‘You look uncomfortable in that formal suit, while this gown is extremely forgiving. Why don’t you take your jacket off and relax?’
‘Are you ordering me about?’
‘Maybe...’ Further conversation was halted by the sight of Luca’s muscles flexing as he stood to take the jacket off, and the knowledge that, in a very short time, she would be sharing a bed with that big, powerful frame, all of which was built to scale.
