The party was being held that evening at Winterwood. Entertaining her friends there promised to give Isabel Hales her finest hour, for the old house was now an extremely impressive luxury home after its head-to toe makeover at her son-in-law’s expense. Where once Caroline had winced at her mother’s pronouncements, she now tended to look first at Valente, to check that he was managing to restrain his laughter-for, mercifully, Valente found her mother’s airs and graces very funny.

Over the two years that had passed since their wedding, much had mellowed. Caroline still saw a lot of her parents-she flew over to England regularly for weekend visits, and flew her parents over to Tuscany for longer stays. Her father had made an excellent recovery and was a good deal fitter than he had been. Isabel Hales’s mobility was still poor, but the addition of a lift to the main house and household help in their apartment had made a real improvement to the older woman’s life and had enabled her to entertain her friends more often.

Koko had acquired a Siamese mate called Whisky, and now there were two cats in the workshop-two cats trying to sneak into the offices, and two cats to keep out of the bedroom. In an attempt to limit the invasion, Valente had said that under no circumstances was there to be any kittens, and Caroline, having won homeless Whisky his new home by telling Valente the most gigantic sob story on his behalf, had agreed. Koko, however, had begun to look a little chubby, and Caroline was now wondering how best to break the news to Valente that some very small kittens were on the way.

Hales and Bomark Logistics had merged on the Hales site, and there had been no job losses. Joe liked to drop in on Hales-Bomark Haulage, to take an unbiased look at the business operation there and report his findings back to Valente. Her husband had become part of the family in a way she had never dreamt he might, and that meant a great deal to her.

As her parents went down in the lift, to await the arrival of their first guests, Caroline dealt her a sleeping son a last loving smile. She had had an easy pregnancy and birth, and Pietro had slotted into their lives as though he had always been there. Their child had greatly added to their happiness. Shortly before her son was born Caroline’s jewellery had won a design award, and she had garnered so many new customers from that publicity that she had had to expand her business. Now she did more designing than making, and found it easier to take time off.

She returned to the master bedroom to see if Valente, who had flown in late to attend the party, was changed yet.

Raking a comb through his luxuriant hair, and cursing the curls trying to spring up, Valente, supremely elegant in his dinner jacket, swung round from the mirror to look at her. An appreciative glow lightened his dark eyes to gold.

‘You look amazing in that colour, but my favourite is still your wedding dress,’ he admitted reflectively. ‘I can’t believe that we’ll have been married two years next month, tesoro mio.’

Caroline folded into his extended arms like a homing pigeon coming back to roost. ‘Mmm,’ she sighed, loving the feel of him against her. ‘I’m looking forward to the masked ball.’

‘I hate fancy dress,’ Valente groaned.

‘You’re going to look terrifically sexy, dressed up like one of your ancestors,’ Caroline forecast-for the design of their outfits had been based on a couple of the Barbieri family portraits which she had chosen.

Valente stared down at her heart-shaped face, his gaze roving over its delicate loveliness with warm appreciation. He knew he would wreck her make-up if he succumbed to temptation and kissed her. He knew he was going to do it anyway.

Drawn by the same unbearably strong desire to feel his mouth on hers, Caroline gripped the lapels of his jacket and stretched up, and he took that encouragement with alacrity. He kissed her with passionate intensity. ‘Three days without you can feel like a month, tesora mia,’ Valente confessed.

‘I missed you too…’ Caroline locked her arms round him, their bodies straining together and taut with longing.

A faint shudder racked his lean, powerful length as she squirmed against him. ‘Enough to be late for the party?’

‘No, we couldn’t,’ she gasped, fighting the excitement rippling through her as he trailed his fingers up her thigh, lifting her skirt out of his path.

But Valente had heard that before, and he was not easily sidetracked. Persistence ensured that temptation triumphed, and when, some time later, the loving couple scrambled back into their discarded clothes, neither was quite as immaculate in appearance as before.

It was as Valente and a dreamy-eyed Caroline were descending the stairs to the party that Caroline took a deep breath and said, ‘I’ve been meaning to tell you for a while… Koko’s pregnant-there are kittens on the way. I thought when they grow up they could live at the villa…’

Valente sent his wife a highly amused appraisal. ‘You picked the optimum moment to tell me. You have perfect timing, tesora mia.’

Caroline smiled and squeezed his hand, her heart so full of happiness she could hardly speak…

Lynne Graham

Of Irish/Scottish parentage, LYNNE GRAHAM has lived in Northern Ireland all her life. She has one brother. She grew up in a seaside village and now lives in a country house surrounded by a woodland garden, which is wonderfully private.