‘You have me, you have had me from that moment in the rain when you looked up at me and the rest of the world went away.’
‘You and Jamie are my entire world,’ she whispered against his mouth.
He sighed in contentment. ‘Let’s go home.’
EPILOGUE
‘WHY ARE WE HERE? I have a table at the restaurant booked for—’ Roman turned his wrist, pushed up the cuff of the fine black cashmere sweater he wore over black jeans and glanced at the metal-banded watch ‘—half an hour ago.’ He sighed. The famous Michelin-starred restaurant was the only thing that would normally have made the journey to this quiet south coast seaside town worthwhile.
When he had acquiesced to Marisa’s surprise request to spend the weekend here he had assumed that the place had some special significance for her, maybe from childhood, but no, she seemed as unfamiliar with the place as he was.
The mystery remained but he was content to let it play out.
‘I am not dressed for the beach.’ He looked around at the empty stretch of sand lined with beach huts, but it did not surprise him it was empty; the wind was blowing up a positive sandstorm. ‘Sand gets everywhere.’
‘Don’t be such a grouch,’ she retorted. ‘We are nearly there.’ She was studying the brightly painted beach huts they were passing and was, he realised, counting under her breath. ‘This is it!’ she exclaimed.
He shook his head. He could see someone jogging along a deserted promenade and a dog walker who was a mere dot in the distance.
‘You have bought me a beach hut?’
It was a joke, but then she went to knock on the door of the candy-striped wooden box they were standing beside.
‘Marisa!’
She shook her head, suddenly looking nervous. ‘You will thank me, I promise you,’ she said, sounding as if she was trying to convince herself. She tapped on the door, which opened immediately.
A slim figure wearing large sunglasses and a loose hooded sweat top that concealed her hair stepped out, nodding at Marisa, who turned to him with a plea in her golden eyes.
‘Just please go inside, Roman, and then you’ll understand.’
He would have stepped inside a burning building if she had asked him, so this request did not require much thought. He ducked to go through the door and heard a key click in the lock behind him.
‘I’ll come back for you in half an hour!’ Marisa yelled through the door.
As he had already seen through the disguise of the woman in the hoodie he was not surprised by the identity of the solo occupant of the beach hut, who was sitting on an unfolded deckchair.
The figure got to his feet. ‘It would seem you are late.’
‘If I’d known where I was going, I wouldn’t be here at all,’ Roman said, staring with distaste around the hut’s interior, lit by a single bulb suspended from the ceiling. ‘I am assuming that we are meant to sort out our differences in half an hour, and then emerge as friends?’
‘That appears,’ Rio agreed dryly, ‘to be the general idea. Or I could even the scales and put you on the floor this time,’ he added, rubbing his clean-shaven jaw.
‘You could try,’ Roman retorted.
The brothers stood staring at one another for a moment, then in unison they grinned and, stepping forward into one another, embraced.
‘So who do you suppose had this cunning little idea?’ Rio asked. ‘Gwen or Marisa?’
‘I think I know when they made contact, because a couple of weeks ago Marisa was looking really guilty.’
Rio nodded. ‘Yes, that time frame works for my end too,’ he admitted with a laugh. ‘Well, are we going to tell them this little charade was not actually necessary, that we’d already met, shook hands and made up?’
‘How about we leave them thinking they have knocked our stubborn heads together and saved the day?’
Rio grinned. ‘Shall we throw a few things around too to make it look authentic?’
‘What is this place anyway?’
‘I think we might find our other halves bid for it in an online auction—but it could have been worse,’ Rio said.
‘How so?’
‘They could be leaving us in here for an hour.’
Roman laughed. ‘And in the meantime do you have those dates?’ he asked, digging in a pocket for his phone.
‘You spoke to Mum?’
Roman nodded. ‘She is willing to come back to the castillo for the big day, as long as she can bring her significant other.’
‘He really is all right, you know.’
‘So long as he makes her happy,’ Roman said simply.
‘Wow, you really have changed your tune—is that Marisa’s influence?’
Roman slung him a look. ‘So the venue is sorted, it’s just a matter of when suits us all.’
‘The sooner the better, as far as I’m concerned...’ Rio paused. ‘Before Gwen starts showing.’
Roman’s eyes widened. ‘Congratulations... I don’t suppose that this is a spring baby?’
‘End of—’ Rio stopped dead. ‘You too?’
Roman nodded, looking proud. ‘Well, not me personally, but Marisa found out last week. Jamie is going to have a brother or sister, maybe both if we’re really lucky.’
‘Twins?’ Rio released a low chuckle. ‘This is going to be one hell of a wedding, brother, in a good way.’
‘I have a feeling it’s going to be one hell of a life, in the very best way,’ Roman countered.
Not just a society wedding, but a joint wedding of the most eligible bachelors in Europe, held in the incredible setting of the Bardales estate.
The world’s media only had one complaint: that they were not allowed inside. The rich and famous were invited and, so it was said, most of the locals for miles around too. They took comfort in the knowledge that someone would have smuggled in a phone, that someone would be tempted by a fat wedge of cash.
They would get their story.
What they did get was a snapshot made publicly available that showed both couples sitting on a bale of hay looking happy, and the world’s media spent a full week furiously speculating on who
