Modern Romance March 2021 Book 5-8 by Carol Marinelli (most romantic novels .txt) 📕

It was her secret to keep.

‘Do you have the rings?’ Stefano asked for maybe the twentieth time.

‘I have the rings.’ Ariana smiled as she checked again for maybe the thirtieth time! ‘Are you nervous?’

‘Very,’ Stefano admitted, and looked at his sister. ‘I miss him.’

‘I know you do.’

‘It’s the bride who should be crying...’ Stefano said as he took a deep breath. ‘I’m so happy yet I miss him so much today.’

‘Hey,’ Ariana soothed, and then she did something she never thought she would do. She reached into her purse and took out a tiny sliver of gold she had sworn she would never give away, but that Gian had told her she might. ‘Papà gave Gian this for strength when his family died...’

‘Really?’

‘And he gave it to me when I felt weak at Papà’s funeral, but I don’t need it any more.’ She put it in his top pocket. ‘Papà is with you today.’

Ariana got on with her designated job: getting her brother to the embassy on time and remembering the rings.

Eloa was a stunning bride and the day brimmed with happiness. Well, that was what Ariana determinedly showed, even if there was a squad of elves holding down the cork on a vat of tears she would later shed.

‘No Nicki?’ Dante checked after the service as he handed her a glass of cachaça—a rather smoky Brazilian rum that made her eyes water. Ariana shook her head, deciding that she would tell him another time about the photo.

Tonight was a celebration after all.

And then Mia had a question for her new husband. ‘No Gian again?’

‘His new hotel,’ Dante said. ‘The opening was booked before the wedding date was decided and couldn’t be changed...’

It was a throwaway sentence as he took his gorgeous wife off to dance and Ariana stood there, wondering how she would get through not just tonight but every future Romano family event at which Gian should be present.

Because Mia was right, Gian should be here.

The Romanos loved him like their own and he belonged here amongst them.

And when the next one happened, and the next, Ariana had to somehow work out how not to tumble into bed with him afterwards.

For. The. Rest. Of. Her. Life.

Oh, those elves were working overtime, yet she refused to cry and so she danced with Pedro, who was a cousin of the bride, and she danced with Francisco, who was a friend of an aunt, and Ariana laughed and danced and determinedly refused to give in to a heart that was breaking.

‘Come on, Ariana...’ They were all dragging her to the centre, where it would seem it was a Brazilian tradition to dance around Eloa’s gold shoes. Really, Ariana had no idea what she was doing, but she swayed her hips and laughed and did a sort of Spanish flamenco around the shoe, tapping her feet and swishing the ruffles on her dress.

He had almost missed this, Gian thought when he saw her.

He had almost missed another Romano wedding and another night with people he could only now admit to himself were family.

The usually unruffled Luna had nearly thrown a fit when Gian had declared that he was flying back to Rome and asked if she could arrange it urgently, as well as a couple of other small assignments he wanted her to swiftly organise. ‘I need to be there tonight.’

Fortunately, Ariana had arranged the reception just across from La Fiordelise so, with his helicopter landing late into the night, it was a simple matter of checking everything was in place and feeding some official documents through the shredder.

Gian didn’t need reminders of the past.

It was a future he wanted now.

And with the past shredded, he walked across the square to Palazzo Pamphili and found, to his pleasant surprise, he was still on the guest list.

Walking through the grand building with its intricate ceilings and formal galleries, there was a moment to gather himself in such esteemed surroundings. It felt deserted, yet finally he could hear the laughter and merriment as if calling for him to join in. And even without his feelings for Ariana, it was right that he was there tonight for, perfect or not, these people had been more of a family to him than his own.

‘Gian!’ Dante caught up with him as he congratulated the bride and groom and apologised for arriving so late. ‘It is good that you made it.’

It was said completely without implication or malice that he had missed theirs, Gian knew; Dante and Mia were simply pleased to see him.

Gian was back in the fold, as easily as that, and he stood watching the celebrations for a moment, taking it all in. He did not have to strain to locate Ariana; she was completely unmissable, of course.

Dressed in red, she was the belle of the ball, dancing and laughing and having the time of her life, so much so that even Gian could not see the hurt he was certain resided within.

He wasn’t vain enough to believe it was all to do with him. There was the loss of her father, her relationship with her mother, Nicki, Stefano...

He was proud of his diva and her acting skills, proud of her resilience, and also aware of an unfamiliar sensation tightening his chest as she danced happily in another man’s arms.

And another!

Damn it, Ariana, Gian thought, I get it. Your life will go on without me, but please tone it down!

He had never cared about anyone enough to know jealousy before, yet he learned there and then to breathe through it, even smiling as she kicked up her heels.

No longer able to resist, he caught Ariana’s arm as she stamped past him, and saw how startled she was in her violet eyes when they locked with his.

Gian was here.

Damn!

Just as she did her best to move on and prove to herself she could party without him, the best-looking spanner in the world was suddenly thrown into the works.

‘I’m