‘I still had my contacts in, I’d forgotten to take them out.’
Gina felt time stand still, gazing at Marco in wonder as though seeing him for the first time. ‘And the day of the accident with the helicopter, I’d almost forgotten after everything else that has happened since, your eyes were blue then, too …’
Her mind flashed back again to the night of the carnival.
Marco …
‘You were wearing a mask … a golden bear?’
‘And you wore a stunning white and gold dress.’
‘You saved me from those men.’
They both stood in stunned silence for a moment, the enormity of this discovery stealing their words.
It was Marco who found his voice first, and it was gruff with emotion. ‘I’ll always be here for you, for ever. I promise you that.’ He pulled her close and kissed her passionately. Gina kissed him back, losing herself in his embrace. Desire rose within her, sparks fizzing through her body, and she pulled away, staring up at him with longing.
‘Time for that celebration,’ she smiled, taking his hand and leading him towards the bedroom.
Epilogue
Venice, May 1995
Venice was at its most breathtaking in the spring as the trees burst into blossom, with purple wisteria draped over palazzo walls and oleander blooming in every piazza. The first visitors had begun arriving, but it was nowhere near as crowded as it would be in the summer, overflowing with hordes of tourists who poured into the tiny city. Right now it was perfect, the days warm and the evenings mild. The sunrises were bright and golden, while the sunsets were fierce in bold shades of pink and orange.
But Gina had no time for reflection as she dashed around the terrace, ensuring that everything was perfect.
‘How long until the guests start arriving?’ she called out, not aiming the question at anyone in particular, but at any of the dozen hotel staff racing past.
‘Thirty minutes,’ came the reply.
Gina inhaled sharply, her mind running through a mental list of everything that still needed to be done.
She felt two strong, steady hands land on her shoulders and whirled round to see Marco smiling at her. She caught her breath at how handsome he looked, in a black tuxedo with a gold cummerbund. It reminded her of the evening at La Fenice, where they’d first watched Lucia de Santis perform, then got caught in a rainstorm and taken shelter in a bacaro. The first night she’d admitted to herself that she was falling for him.
‘Hey, you,’ she said softly, as she gazed up at him.
He kissed her lightly, both of them aware that this was a professional event and Gina was technically working, but the look in his eyes held a promise for later.
‘Gina, this is incredible,’ he breathed.
‘Did you expect anything less?’
‘You need to slow down for a second. Take it all in—’
‘I can’t, I need to—’
‘The team have it all under control. Don’t overdo it. Just take a moment and look at what you’ve created.’
Marco was insistent and Gina did as she was told, secretly appreciative that he was proud of what she had done.
She turned to look at the city. Venice was laid out before her, the Grand Canal sparkling in the sunlight as though it had been sprinkled with thousands of diamonds that danced on the surface, as a veritable procession of boats made their way along the iconic waterway. She gazed out over the orange tiled rooftops, down past the domes of Santa Maria della Salute, to the palatial White Palace in the distance.
They were standing on the rooftop where Marco had taken her the very first night they’d met, and it had never looked as beautiful as it did right now. Gina had needed to track down the owners of the terrace and obtain the necessary permits to hold Max and Olivia’s nuptials there, but she’d thrown herself into her work – her first big event since the accident – and had outdone herself.
Emerging onto the terrace, the guests encountered what looked like a sea of flowers, with enormous bunches of blooms on pedestals and ivy twisting its way around the pillars. White fabric had been laid over the wooden flooring to form an aisle, strewn with petals, with a floral archway framing the spot where Max and Olivia would say their vows. The guests would be seated on gold Chiavari chairs, and outdoor chandeliers had been hung on foliage-covered stands above their heads to give the illusion that they were floating, while softly glowing candles had been dotted around the space. It looked spectacular.
Conscious that it wasn’t the first wedding for either of them, Gina didn’t want to create an over-the-top white wedding, but instead hoped for something classic and beautiful, and she’d undoubtedly achieved that. Olivia had been wonderful to her over the years, and the last few months in particular, visiting her every day in hospital after the crash. Gina wanted to repay that generosity by making it the most memorable day possible. She was confident that she’d fulfilled the brief.
‘Time for you to get ready,’ Marco murmured in her ear. ‘Leave the rest of the team to it. They’ve got it all under control.’
‘What? Oh …’ Gina exclaimed, realizing he was right. She was still wearing Capri pants and a loose white shirt, which was not suitable wedding guest attire. She thought of the beautiful gown inside the garment bag that had been hung downstairs in the church, and felt happy and honoured at the same time. Because, as well as organizing the wedding, Gina had another role to play today: Olivia had asked her to be a bridesmaid.
‘Oh, Olivia, you look beautiful,’ Gina breathed, as she got her first glimpse of the bride. Olivia’s son, Charles, had flown over from England to give her away, and the two of them stood at the top of the steps, just out of sight from the main terrace. Olivia was wearing a full-length gown in palest gold, overlaid with lace, and her hair was swept off her face in an elegant up-do. Creamy pearls adorned her ears, and she carried a small bouquet of white roses, tied with a gold ribbon. Olivia leaned heavily on her son’s arm, determined not to use her stick for the trip down the aisle.
‘Thank you, my dear. So do you,’ Olivia beamed.
Gina peeped round the corner, ensuring that everyone was in their places. It was to be a small, intimate wedding, and the two dozen guests – friends and family who’d flown in from the UK, and a few internationally – were seated in readiness. Max stood in front of the floral archway, looking dapper and expectant in his morning suit, with Venice in all its glory spread out behind him. Joy and anticipation were in the air.
‘Ready?’ Gina asked, and Olivia beamed in return. There were clearly no wedding jitters, no last-minute nerves. She was ready to marry the man that she loved.
‘You’ve made me wait long enough,’ Olivia teased. ‘I don’t want to delay another minute.’
Gina gave the nod, and the string quartet struck up Pachelbel’s Canon in D. Olivia linked arms with Charles and began the slow procession along the flower-strewn aisle, as Gina followed behind, alongside Olivia’s daughter, Sarah. Gina’s long chiffon dress swished silkily around her ankles as she walked, and she carried a small posy that matched Olivia’s bouquet.
It was wonderful to watch Olivia and Max exchange vows. They were so in love, and there was a warmth, respect and humour between them. Discreetly, Gina glanced around, seeing Issy amongst the guests, looking beautiful in a stunning emerald-green halter-neck dress. Then Gina exchanged a glance with Marco, and he grinned at her, his eyes soft like melting chocolate. Her heart skipped a beat, wondering if he was thinking the same as her; if he’d considered that one day it might be them saying their vows.
The priest called for the rings and Max’s face dropped, with a look of alarm. He patted his chest dramatically as he checked his suit pocket, searching in his trousers.
