gave him a hug. “I’ll be Signora Gagliardi. Don’t have a heart attack, Mamma.”
Her mother only laughed, the most wonderful sound Gemma had ever heard from her parent. eh.
“Well, here goes!” She took off alone and rushed up the steps, breathless to find Vincenzo, who was inside waiting for her. Never had there been a bride as eager as she to seal her fate.
Cesare stood at the entrance in a becoming tan suit. He too wore a white rose in his lapel. “Your husband-to-be has asked me to do the honors and escort you to the chapel.” He kissed her on both cheeks.
“Thank you so much.”
He gave her his arm and they walked through several long corridors to reach that part of the castello. “I had no idea when I interviewed you that you were the person who ruined every woman for Vincenzo all those years ago.”
“That’s not quite true. I know of one special woman, very recently in fact.”
He shook his head. “No, no. If she’d been the one, he would have brought her with him. Did you know he wanted you to stay in the tower room of the former principessa?”
Warmth traveled up her neck to her cheeks. That had been her favorite room in the whole castello. “He was only joking.”
Cesare laughed. “Denial becomes you.”
They reached the closed chapel doors, where Takis stood, dressed in a beige suit, also wearing a white rose. He hugged her before Dimi introduced Filippa and Gemma’s mother to the other men.
Cesare gave her a special smile. “So you’re the mamma responsible for raising our new executive pastry chef. She gave all the credit to you on her résumé. I understand why. The pastry she made for us was beyond compare. I’m honored to meet you.” So saying, he gave her a kiss on both cheeks. Gemma loved him for showing her mother such deference.
Dimi turned to Filippa. “This is where I leave you to join Vincenzo, but Takis will take good care of you.” Dimi’s gaze swerved to Gemma’s. “You’re sure you want to go through with this?”
“Dimi—” she cried softly in exasperation.
“Just checking.”
He took more pictures of all of them, then folded her mother’s arm over his and they moved inside the chapel.
Gemma looked at Takis. “Have you seen Vincenzo? Is he in there?”
“Si.”
“And Father Janos?”
“Si.” With a poker face, he added, “In case you can’t tell them apart, Vincenzo is the tall guy wearing the gray suit and white rose. The short, portly father is wearing...well...let’s just say he’s dressed in splendid robes for this once-in-a-lifetime celebration of your marriage.”
Her eyes smarted. “Thank you for being his dear friends. Your friendship saved him at the darkest moment of his life.”
Takis cocked his head. “Someday we’ll tell you just how dark our lives were when we arrived in the States. Meeting Vincenzo was the best thing that ever happened to us. Isn’t that right, Cesare?”
The Sicilian nodded and lent her his arm. “It’s four o’clock. Time to begin.”
Takis opened the doors and walked Filippa down the aisle. Gemma followed with Cesare. For such a small chapel, the interior was breathtaking, with wall and ceiling frescoes still vibrant with color.
This was where she’d seen Vincenzo’s grandfather worship. Now Emanuele’s two grandsons stood on either side of Father Janos, waiting for Gemma. She feared her heartbeat could be heard throughout the incense-sweet interior. With each step that took her closer to Vincenzo, it seemed to grow louder.
Except for the absence of the father she’d never known, Gemma couldn’t imagine a more perfect setting for their intimate wedding. The most important people in the world were here in attendance.
Cesare walked her to the front, where Vincenzo reached for her hands. Beneath his black wavy hair, the bronzed features of his striking face stood out against the frescoes. The candles beneath the shrine cast flickering shadows, revealing to Gemma the impossibility of his male beauty.
They both whispered, “Ti amo...” at the same time.
Father Janos bestowed a thoughtful smile on them. “I understand this moment has been in the making for many years.”
She nodded. Vincenzo must have told him everything.
“That is a good long time for you to have loved each other and should give you the faith that your union will be blessed by the Almighty. Vincenzo? Take her right hand in your left and repeat after me. ‘I, Vincenzo Nistri Gagliardi, Duca di Lombardi, take Gemma Bonucci Rizzo for my beloved wife. I will love her, cherish her, protect her for the rest of my life.’”
Gemma heard him repeat the words in that deep, thrilling voice of his.
“Now, Gemma. Repeat these words.”
She looked into Vincenzo’s eyes. Between the dark lashes they gleamed pure silver. “I, Gemma Bonucci Rizzo, take Vincenzo Nistri Gagliardi, Duca de Lombardi, for my beloved husband, who has always been beloved to me.” The last part of the sentence was her own addition. It brought a smile to Vincenzo’s lips.
“I will love him, cherish him, support him and honor him for the rest of my life.” The honor part was another deviation from the script, but she wanted him to know how complete was her commitment to him.
“Because you have taken these vows, I pronounce you man and wife. In the name of the Father, the Son and the Holy Spirit. Amen. Vincenzo? Do you have a ring?”
“I do.”
“You may present it to your wife.
She was his wife!
His fingers were sure as he pushed home a diamond in a gold band on her ring finger.
“Do you have a ring, Gemma?”
“She does,” Dimi said and came forward. He handed her the gold band she’d picked out for Vincenzo during their shopping spree with her mother.
“You may present it to your husband.”
Vincenzo helped her put it on, then pulled her into his arms and kissed her. It went on for a long, long time. Gemma forgot everything and everyone. Somehow she’d been given her heart’s desire, and nothing mattered but to pledge her heart and soul to him in the most intimate way she knew how.
“I love you, Gemma. You just don’t know how much.”
“But I do, amore mio.”
They kissed each other once more. When he finally lifted his mouth from hers, she realized they were the only ones left in the chapel. “Oh, no—even the priest has gone.”
He gave her that white smile to die for. “Father Janos was a man before he wore the robes. That should answer your question.”
“There’s no one like you. It was a perfect wedding.”
Vincenzo wrapped his arms around her. “There’s more. Much as I want to take you upstairs, our friends are waiting in my grandfather’s small dining room to celebrate with us. I’m excited, because Cesare’s contribution has been to make the meal for us. He learned to cook from his mother, just the way you did. It’ll be an all-Sicilian menu tonight.”
She put her arms around his neck. “I love your friends. I adore Dimi, and I love my dear friend Filippa. I’ve decided her timing in coming back to Italy was meant to be, as was Mamma’s. Now I guess we’d better not keep them all waiting.”
He kissed her eyes, nose and mouth. “They understand and will enjoy the vintage Sicilian wine until we get there. One more kiss, sposa mia.”
Twenty minutes later they