Page 29 of Nico (Members From Money Season 2, #154)

"I should have convinced Sadie to elope."

"You would end up breaking our hearts."

"I could live with that."

She gave him a look which had him hissing out a breath and leaving the room.

*****

"I've never seen a more beautiful bride," Sylvia remarked in a hushed tone as she stood just outside the doorway of her daughter's room and gazed at her daughter. "The dress was a very good pick."

Coming further into the room, she clasped her hands in front of her and sighed. "The old-fashioned Venetian lace and yards of silk were a very good idea."

Crossing to stand in front of her daughter, she adjusted the wide off-the-shoulders collar made stiff by a special piece added to the material. The corset style bodice emphasized the bride's waist and swirled and flowed gently from the waist.

Her hair had been styled by Billy, stylist to the stars and he had chosen to deep condition, rub hair gel into the thick strands, with an intricate braiding to the left.

Instead of a veil, flowers—tiny rosebuds, carnations, lilies, baby's breath and anemone—were placed strategically at the front of her hair.

A stunning diamond necklace, a gift from her fiancé, graced her neck, the stones dipping between her breasts. Matching diamonds dripped from her lobes.

"Something borrowed and blue." Removing the sapphire pin from her chic canary yellow dress, she pinned it onto the dress.

"Thanks." Sadie searched her face and marveled at how the woman had changed. She had flown back to the States and had been living in the house ever since. Sadie had all her stuff moved out and had spent her last night in her bedroom.

Which somehow did not feel like her bedroom anymore. The pool house had become home to her now. Another bedroom had been added as well as a walk-through closet.

"What will you do?"

Sylvia laughed softly and touched her daughter's cheek briefly. "Linda and I've been talking. I want to be active in doing charity. I will be keeping myself busy giving back. For years I considered myself the victim, never really appreciating what I have."

She shook her elegantly coiffed head. "Now it's going to be different. You'll see. You're finally getting a mama you'll be proud of." Her eyes misted. "I'm incredibly proud of you. Your father and I did something wonderful."

Sadie tried to swallow the lump inside her throat and giving up on that, she gathered the woman close. "Let's go get me married."

*****

Watching them walk towards him—his bride and the little girl who had come to mean the world to him—was the defining moment of his life. He stood there at the altar and could barely restrain himself from rushing towards them.

His little girl with her blonde curls streaming down her back had pink and white flowers dotting her hair, the exact shade of her pink and white tulle dress. His bride did not seem real. She was so beautiful, she made his heart ache.

Barely giving the man walking next to her a glance, he stepped forward, his heart in his eyes and did not give one blessed damn who saw it.

Taking her hand, he delighted the guests by hoisting his daughter into his arms. Tucking Sadie's hand through his arm, he marched them up to where the priest was patiently waiting.

He still had his daughter tucked to his side when he exchanged vows. When it was time for him to kiss his bride, he still held her as he sealed their vows with a deep lingering kiss.

*****

"Happy?" he whispered in her ear as they circled the dance floor.

"Exhausted and yes, happy." She wrapped her hands around his neck and leaned into him dreamily.

"Your mother and sister outdid themselves." She glanced around the vast ballroom with the double flower bedecked arches. Furnishings had been moved to make room for the chairs and tables for their guests. A red carpet had been laid in the middle for the bride to make her way towards the head table.

And of course, a live band had been hired. The food had been carefully planned and catered for. The cake, a towering six tier orange blossom and raspberry and cream with frothy icing resided on a lovely table dressed entirely in white.

Sadie had changed out of her wedding finery into a dress of champagne wool that clung to her slender curves.

An attendant had been specially hired to take care of the numerous wedding gifts.

The official photographer had insisted on taking their photos outside in the lovely gardens, even though it was freezing and had snowed a day ago.

He claimed that the snow made a stunning backdrop for the photos.

"She did." He looked over to where Gracie, still wearing her pretty pink dress (no one could convince her to change!), was nodding off in her grandfather's arms.

"It's past her bedtime."

"She does not want to miss a thing. I'm happy we're leaving for our honeymoon in the morning. I would not want to leave without telling her goodbye."

He smiled slightly. "She's going to want to come with us."

"We're going to have to explain to her again what a honeymoon is."

"Every aspect?" His thick brows arched teasingly.

"The salient parts." She buried her fingers in the hairs at the nape of his neck. "You got a haircut."

"I was marrying the most beautiful woman in the world, figured I would try and dress the part." Tilting her chin up, he brushed his lips against hers and felt the heat rising. "I cannot wait to get you naked."

"We still have a few more hours."

"Like hell," he growled. "Thirty minutes to circle the room and say our goodbyes." And he meant it.

*****

One would say they took their work with them. She had been to Italy and explored parts of Rome as well as Venice, but with him, she discovered little known villages where the stunning displays of simple arts made her so excited, she could barely contain herself.

Their honeymoon was unorthodox, and she loved every minute of it. During the day, they would walk for miles, popping into tiny villages where to her surprise, her new husband spoke the languages fluently.

"I have a head for it," he acknowledged sheepishly when she simply stared at him.

And there she discovered a fifteen-year-old artist who could capture people and animals in charcoal with exquisite precision.

Making a split-second decision and after consulting the boy's mother, she called Andre.

Within a day, she had signed the artist and arranged for him to travel to the states in another two weeks.

"You don't mind?" she asked him as they strolled along the streets of the tiny village. He had bought her some cheesy Arancini balls. It was a surprisingly mild day considering that it was in the midst of winter and tourists were pouring out of small cafes and novelty stores.

"I don't mind at all." Lifting their joined hands, he kissed her knuckles and had an old woman stopping to beam at them, the spate of Italian rapid and going right over her head.

"What did she say?"

"That we should make the most of our love and be happy for the rest of our lives. She also said we should hurry up and make babies." His bottle green eyes twinkled at the skeptical look she cast him.

"You made that part up."

"Maybe." He glanced at her as they started walking towards their villa. "I want children with you."

"We already have Gracie," she pointed out.

Wrapping her against him, he turned her around. "I want to see you big with my seed inside you." His voice grew rough. "Call me sexist, I really don't care, but I want to look at you and see you pregnant."

"And barefoot?" she challenged and could not help the emotions swirling through her. This side of him had the uncanny ability to make her go wild.

"Possibly." Ignoring the people swirling around them, he tilted her chin up and crushed his lips to hers. "Let's go back to the villa. I have this terrible taste for you."

"We've not finished exploring..."

"Oh yes, we have."

As they made their way through the winding streets, the hum of village life surrounded them—echoes of laughter, the scent of baking bread, and the distant call of church bells.

Her heart felt impossibly light, buoyed by the sense of adventure and the man whose hand she held.

Each new discovery stitched them closer together, memories forming one after another in the patchwork of their shared story.

*****

He rolled off her weakly, heart pounding like a jackhammer in his chest. He had pounced on her when they were barely through the door and ripped off her clothes. Somehow after he had buried himself inside her, they found their way to one of the bedrooms.

The villa belonged to the company, and he had dismissed the caretakers as soon as they arrived, wanting to be alone with his new bride. He did not want company in case he had the urge to make love to her right in the small living room or the kitchen. And since arriving, they had sampled every room.

Gathering her to him, he sniffed her hair and sighed. "I hurt you."

"Not much. I did some damage myself." She stroked his chest, where her nails had marked him. The man had been like an animal in heat, and she loved it. It gave her a thrill to see the usually complacent Nico Coulter go all crazy as the desire took over.

"We're going to end up killing each other." He should feel guilty about being so rough, but he could not manage that. His thirst for her was so powerful, it threatened to overwhelm.

"What a way to go." Lifting her head, she smiled. "I love it."