The Vine (36 page)

GISM walks over to me—
Whoa, he really is one hot son of a bitch
—and I go to stand.
Uh oh, my legs of jelly won’t let me.

I am a strong, confident woman!
I think, annoyed at my obvious lack of power and control around this man. GISM is now standing right in front of me, clearly about to introduce himself, and it is so rude for me to still be sitting down, but I don’t know what else to do. Eventually I stand up, but not in my normal, poised manner I adopt when there’s man candy around. Instead, I sort of stumble up awkwardly.

“Hello, sorry you had to witness all of that, but please let me introduce myself. I’m Luca Goretti,” he says in that fantastic accent, and he holds out his hand for me to take.
Oh, dear Lord, help me.
That accent is amazingly sexy, and it’s going to get me into so much trouble.

“Katy,” I say. I don’t elaborate; not that I wouldn’t like to, but I can’t. My lips and tongue seem to have joined forces with my jelly legs—
Well thank you very much, body, for letting me down just when I need you most.

I hold out my hand for him to shake, and I so want it to come across as an elegant gesture like something Audrey Hepburn would do, but surprise, surprise—my hands have also joined up with the tongue that’s too big to fit in my mouth, the numb lips and the jelly legs.
Great!
Even so, GISM takes my hand, turns it over and kisses the back of it.

Keep in mind, before this moment, I would have classed that sort of gesture as tacky, sickly and smarmy, but now, as I feel his molten hot lips touch the skin so gently on the back of my hand, I am so turned on by it—I mean like
proper
turned on, as in the undies I am wearing are flooded, my nipples are like bullets and—
oh, dear God, please don’t tell me that’s a bit of drool running from my mouth.

I put my hand up to the corner of my lips, hopefully in a discrete manner, and wipe the wetness away with my finger.
Yep, I’m drooling
. GISM is smiling at me; I don’t know if it’s because he is aware of how he’s affecting me, or if he thinks I’m some kind of simpleton who needs his care and pity.
Okay, enough is enough; I’m going speak to him, and I’m going to be breathy, sexy and sultry about it…so here goes nothing
.

“I’m very pleased to meet you too, Luca.”

Oh, dear Lord
, I think to myself,
that wasn’t breathy, sexy and sultry—that was husky, croaky and more like a dirty phone call.
I’ve officially lost my power over men, because it doesn’t matter how good I look—and I do look fantastic—no man is ever going to fall for a manly-sounding stalker girl with no control of her limbs, and who’s probably coming across like a complete psychopath.

“Katy, under normal circumstance I would take a gorgeous girl like you out for a drink, get to know her better and then make wild, passionate love to her for hours, but seeing as though your
best friend has broken my heart right here in front of you, you probably wouldn’t want to go out with me right now anyway.” He smirks before becoming serious again. “I know I’ll get over Lizzy; well, I’ll have to, because she is a very good friend of mine and I really don’t want to lose that friendship with her. So I guess we’ll be seeing a lot more of each other, so maybe one day in the future—you and me, who knows?—but for now, ciao.” And with that, GISM turns and exits the conference room, leaving me with my mouth open in shock, and probably with my tongue hanging out.

I’m gobsmacked, but even more than that, I am just so relieved that even with my drooling, the fact I can’t talk properly, my failing limbs and my lovesick puppy act, he was still interested. Just imagine if I was up to my full flirting potential—the poor man wouldn’t have stood a chance.

Not only that, he’s basically just told me he wants to take me out, wine and dine me and then fuck me senseless for days. Look, I know he didn’t actually say that, but it’s what he implied, so I fluff up my hair, gather myself and strut sexily out of the room and out of the hotel. Well, I strut as sexily as I can while wearing a pair of soggy knickers. What I need is to go back to my hotel, have a bit of fun with my battery-powered buzzing friend who doesn’t talk back and always satisfies, and then have a rejuvenating shower. I’ll catch up with Lizzy later, when I’m less sexually-frustrated and in a better mood.

We’ve been back in London for a few weeks now, and it’s a week until our wedding. Just one week before I will finally become Mrs. Elizabeth Castle, and I can’t wait. I still get a little bit teary when I think about it; I mean, before Luke had come to find me, I had thought this was never going to happen.

We are heading over to Italy and I am so excited. We haven’t had much need to go over there while planning the wedding, as Stef, Isabella and Luca have done everything for us on that end. The last few weeks, I have been spending quality time with George, Luke’s family, Katy and of course, Luke, who I just can’t get enough of.

I told George I would not be coming back to work for him, as after the wedding I am going to spend all my free time writing my book. He knows I’ve always wanted to write one, so he was completely understanding. I think he was just glad to have me back safe.

Luke and I are going to Verona first, as we have a few things to sort out, including a last-minute dress fitting for me, and then Luke’s family, George and his family and Katy will join us out there a few days before the wedding. We are having a close friends and family meal when they arrive—sort of like a traditional rehearsal dinner—even though our wedding is far from conventional.

Katy is giving me away, and Stefano is my manly maid of honour. Luke has both Cole and Smyth as his best men—Smyth to do all the important stuff, and Cole to arrange the stag party and do the best man speech. God help poor Luke; Cole wanted them to all go to Las Vegas for the stag party, but Luke got out of it by saying with us getting married in just a month it was too much, and they could have a perfectly good night out in London.

The truth though was with all that had happened, he didn’t want to leave me for too long, and to be honest, I didn’t want him to either. I wouldn’t have stopped him from going, but after almost losing him, I am just as protective of him as he is of me.

Cole was initially disappointed, but soon got into organising a stag night that apparently Luke wouldn’t forget. The funny thing was, I encouraged Luke to invite Stefano, and he did, but Stef brought Luca. I never want to know what happened that night, and thankfully, none of them are very forthcoming anyway. Luke just came home looking absolutely exhausted, telling me how grateful he was to be marrying me and how wonderful it was to be home.

Cole just kept saying annoyingly, “What happens in London stays in London.” I don’t think he’ll ever really forgive Luke for stopping him from booking Vegas. I kept thinking of them all out in London—Luke, Cole, Smyth and Luca—all looking gorgeous, but with Luke giving Luca a hard time all night, and then my darling Stef brightening things up.
Oh, to be a fly on the wall.

My hen party basically involved me, Katy, Stef, takeaway, champagne and face packs. It was a great night—we laughed, we cried and we laughed until we cried. It was perfect and exactly what I wanted, and Stefano was just thrilled he had gotten to crash both the hen and stag parties.

So Luke and I are flying to Verona today, and we will be glad to have some time alone on the aeroplane at least. It’s been a crazy few weeks, all so full-on in London, and we know when we arrive in Verona it’s going to be equally as busy. We’ll be lucky to get any
more time alone before the wedding. As a surprise, Luke has hired us a private jet, so we have a wonderful journey, making the most of our time together talking, eating, drinking champagne, kissing, cuddling and of course, joining the mile high club…a few times. It is the perfect start to our wedding celebrations.

Finally, Luke and I arrive in Verona acting like two excited kids. We giggle our way through meeting after meeting as we go through all the wedding arrangements. Isabella has been in charge of organising all the food, including our wedding meal, evening buffet and most importantly, the cake. She takes us through everything and we are ecstatic.

Luca has been in charge of the ceremony itself and has arranged for our close friends and family to see us have our wedding in Juliet’s beautiful house. We will have our wedding photographs taken on Romeo and Juliet’s famous balcony, and then we will be welcomed to The Vine Palazzo by the rest of our friends and family for more photographs in their amazing gardens. We’ll end there, having our wedding dinner and our reception. We chose the location since we have such fond memories of it. Luca has done a sterling job.

Stefano is obviously in charge of hair, and the wedding dress; we’ve had weeks of emails going back and forth to get it right, so I am really excited for my fitting. Luke and Stefano are going to collect their suits today, and Stef has arranged for me to have a dress fitting at The Vine. We are in the bridal suite again, and a lady called Sabrina is meeting me there for my fitting today. I hope she arrives on time because I have just received a message from Luca saying he will pop by to see me later. I have to smile to myself because he obviously knows Luke isn’t going to be here, or else he wouldn’t have even attempted to come over, no matter how much he had missed me and wants to see me. What I didn’t want though is Luca turning up while I had the wedding dress on. I don’t want him seeing it before Luke; it would feel like a betrayal to my beautiful man.

At 2 pm on the dot, I hear a knock on the door, and when I open it, it’s Sabrina and I instantly love her. She is even more enthusiastic and bouncy than Stefano, which I didn’t think was humanly possible. I welcome her and help her in with the huge dress carrier as we both introduce ourselves. Sabrina excitedly gets to work on revealing the dress I’m going to wear when I marry my soul mate in just a few days, and a shiver of anticipation runs through me at the thought. She asks me to turn my back and tells me not to peek until the dress is ready for viewing.

After a few minutes, she says quietly, “Okay, you can turn around now.” I smile thinking how hard it must be for Sabrina to act so serene when clearly she is naturally giddy and hyper. I turn around slowly until I am face-to-face with my wedding dress, and the smile instantly slides from my expression and there’s nothing I can do to stop it. This is what happens when I get Stefano to organise things for me; I should have known.

I hear Sabrina’s voice, “Lizzy, is everything okay? Do you not like it?” She sounds worried; I need to put her mind at ease.

“Sabrina, it is absolutely exquisite.” And I mean it—it really is beautiful—it just isn’t what Stef and I had agreed upon via our endless emails. I had never wanted a white dress; I had told him ivory would be acceptable, and in the pictures I had sent, the dresses were all very me—quite plain and simple in design, but still beautiful and elegant.

It is still quite warm here in Verona at the moment, so I wanted a strapless dress that would also show off my lean arms and shoulders. I wanted a tight bodice of silk, satin or lace, and from the waist, a silk skirt that floated out slightly but would cling to my thighs as I walked. The work of art in front me is nothing like that. I hear Sabrina’s voice, all high-pitched and excited again. “Come on, Lizzy, I can’t wait any longer! Let’s get you in it, shall we?”

I nod and feel a bubble growing in my belly, a mixture of nerves and excitement. After much effort from me and Sabrina, the dress is finally on and she delicately places the tiara on my
head. She asks me to close my eyes while she turns me to face the large, gilt mirror in our bedroom, and starts running around me and moving parts of the dress to where she needs them to be. She’s mumbling about how glad she is I had just gone for a tiara and not a head dress or veil of any sort, as the dress really didn’t need it. Finally, Sabrina is obviously happy with her work and is ready for me to look. She asks me to open my eyes, and as I do, I see her step back out of sight from the mirror and then I take myself in.

The dress adorning me is the most beautiful, shiny ecru colour, which is composed of a strapless bodice that looks like it is made from the finest Italian silk money could buy. It is magical the way it enhances my bust in such a delicate fashion. The full skirt of the dress comes out from low on my hips and has layer upon layer of soft gold Italian lace. I look at myself, taking in every detail of the dress; it is stunning. What the hell—
I look stunning
.

Stefano had done me proud; he had arranged all this knowing full-well I would never have agreed to a dress like this. I feel like a fairy princess and Cinderella all rolled into one, and when Dad used to read me fairy stories at bedtime, this was the dress I dreamed of. It looks so expensive; Luke had probably told him cost isn’t a factor and I could have whatever I want. I will thank them both later.

A tear slides down my cheek. At the sound of sniffing across the room, I look around and catch Sabrina’s eye. She is dabbing hers with a tissue and I smile at her. “Sabrina, this dress is truly the most magnificent, stunning dress I have ever seen, thank you.”

“I’m so sorry for my teary behaviour, Lizzy; it’s very unprofessional I know, but you look absolutely incredible. I hope you don’t mind, but Stefano told me you and your future husband’s story, and if anyone deserves a happy ending it’s you.” Sabrina stops her emotional outburst as her phone starts buzzing. “Excuse me,” she says as she steps away to take her call while I admire myself some more.

A few seconds later, she tells me she is just popping downstairs since another delivery has arrived here for her; she looks confused, mumbling she’s sure she had brought everything. She leaves the door ajar as she goes, and I turn back to study myself in the mirror. This is so not like me, but I can’t get enough of looking at myself in this exquisite gown. I can’t believe how beautiful I look. I am shocked with myself at how vain I sound, or should I say, how Katy-like I sound, but it feels so nice to feel good about myself. I feel annoyed I have been putting myself down so much; Mum and Dad would have been terribly cross with me for doing that.