One Night with Prince Charming (Aristocratic Grooms #2)(45)
Author: Anna DePalo

“I hope so,” he whispered back wickedly.

For he was her wicked duke.

Epilogue

“You look divine. I can’t wait for the wedding night.”

Pia turned from the mirror, her heart flipping over as she spotted Hawk in the doorway to the changing room.

He was dressed in a cutaway morning coat that displayed his masculine physique to perfection. She couldn’t wait for the wedding night, either.

“You shouldn’t be in here,” she said, her words belying her feelings. “It’s bad luck to see the bride…”

She’d chosen a wedding dress with an all-over lace overlay and a chapel-length train. The dress had a dreamy, fairy-talelike quality, with a straight neckline and fitted sleeves.

It was a dress fit for a princess—or a duchess.

Hawk smiled lazily. “You might feel differently about my appearance when you realize what I’ve come to deliver.”

She surveyed him with mild suspicion. “I—I can’t think what that would be,” she responded, feeling the weight of the tiara that held her veil in place. “Isn’t it customary to present the wedding ring during the ceremony?”

In over an hour, she and Hawk would be exchanging their vows in the chapel on Silderly Park.

“First, a kiss,” Hawk said as he stopped in front of her and bent to press his lips to hers.

Pia swayed into him as she felt the warm and supple pressure of his mouth against hers.

When Hawk straightened, Pia wore a dreamy little smile. “I-if that’s an indication of what you’re here to deliver, then I feel compelled to warn you that we don’t have the time or the appropriate easily-disposed-of attire.”

Hawk chuckled, and then bent in close. “Later.”

Pia felt a shiver chase down her spine at the promise in his voice. “Yes, well, first we have a major production to get through.”

After the ceremony, there would be a wedding breakfast for several hundred, in a bow to the dowager duchess’s wishes—and somewhat inevitable in light of Hawk’s title and position. And in a few weeks’ time, after a honeymoon around the Mediterranean, there would be an elegant reception in New York for those who had been unable to attend the wedding.

“After this,” Hawk joked, as if reading her mind, “you’ll have no end of prospective brides and hostesses seeking your event-planning services.”

“I want to assure you that you’ll always be at the head of the line,” Pia teased back.

Hawk grinned. “How reassuring that I have first dibs on your talent as a party organizer in case I have any more friends who desire a wedding coordinator.”

“I thought you exhausted all of those on your way to resurrecting Pia Lumley Wedding Productions!”

“I only called in a few favors,” he disagreed modestly. “The lost veil and other capers were not my doing.”

“I should hope not.”

Hawk sobered a little. “This all brings me back to the reason for my sudden appearance here.”

Pia arched a brow. “Yes?”

He reached over and opened a nearby dresser drawer. “I put them in here earlier,” he said, withdrawing a velvet case. “I wanted to add the finishing touches to your ensemble.”

“Oh, Hawk, no,” Pia protested. “You’ve already given me enough.”

“Well, that is true,” Hawk conceded with a twinkle in his eyes. “The weight of my heart alone…”

She giggled.

“Nevertheless,” he continued solemnly as he opened the jewelry case in his hands, “I hope you’ll make an exception for heirloom earrings.”

Pia gasped as she caught sight of a magnificent pair of diamond drop earrings.

“They were made for my paternal great-great-grandmother and presented to her on her wedding day,” Hawk said as he gazed into her eyes. “Her marriage lasted sixty-one years.”

Pia felt emotion clog her throat. “Oh, Hawk, what wonderful history and significance.”

Of course, she’d replace the simple diamond studs that she wore—something borrowed from Tamara—with Hawk’s gift to her.

Hawk quirked his lips. “Don’t thank me just yet. My great-great-grandmother also had eight children.”

“Oh!”

His smile widened as he leaned toward her. “Don’t worry,” he said in a low voice. “I’m already committed to raising the feline Mr. Darcy.”

“Hawk?” Lucy’s voice sounded from the corridor outside.

“If she finds you in here,” Pia said, “she’ll be sure to scold you.”

Hawk stole a quick kiss. “I’ll meet you at the altar.”

Pia knew her heart was full to bursting. “And I’ll write the fairy tale with you.”

From the first day and for the rest of their lives.