Chapter Twenty Eight
?
Two months later.
With gentle open mouthed kisses on his wife's stomach, Nico worked his way along her hip as she gave a contented little sigh.
Lifting his head, he met her lazy smile with one of his own.
He pulled the duvet over them and felt her snuggle into his side.
He pressed his lips to her hair.
"Madame insists on supplying your wedding gown."
Bronte's head shot up and a sharp finger poked him in the chest.
"That woman is not coming within ten feet of me." She pressed her hand to her stomach, gave it a little pat. "Or my child."
With his tongue planted firmly in his cheek, he sighed.
"I only want you to look beautiful on our big day. She has selected four." His lips twitched as he saw her frown. Love swept over him as he buried his face in her neck and inhaled the pure essence of his wife. "Do it for me, cara, I do not wish to see you married in chef whites."
"We're already married. I don't see why we have to go through with another ceremony."
"That was the civil ceremony, as you well know. Don't you want a party with friends and family?"
"We had friends and family."
Nico leaned on his elbow and stared at her. That stubborn, belligerent look he loved glared back at him. The only time she ever gave him trouble was when it came to clothes. But they needed to do this for their families and then she would be his alone for a six week honeymoon. He couldn't wait.
She narrowed her eyes and pouted. "If she pokes and prods, mutters and moans, I will not be held responsible for my actions."
They married on the beach at Cap Ferret at sunset, surrounded by the people who mattered most.
With Rosie as the maid of honour and a deliriously excited Carmen, Gabriel's five year old daughter as her flower girl, Bronte walked towards her husband dressed in an Elie Saab strapless gown of ivory silk. She carried a single blushing pink rose. Alexander held her hand in the crook of his arm. Carl had insisted her brother give her away. She wore no shoes or jewellery other than her three carat diamond engagement ring.
Nico waited for her with his brother Gabriel who winked at his daughter. His American wife, Julia, carried their dark haired baby boy. The men wore cream tuxes with white shirts, no ties and Nico had refused to wear shoes too. He looked so handsome and happy, Bronte's heart caught in her throat.
Safe in the arms of her husband, she watched the sunset and realised yes, dreams really do come true.