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The Man, The Ring, The Wedding
The Man, The Ring, The Wedding Read online
A lone ruby ring in a velvet case...
Letter to Reader
Title Page
Dedication
About the Author
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Epilogue
Copyright
A lone ruby ring in a velvet case...
It all began when a young Vittoria Perrone fell madly in love with an American pilot during the Second World War. But their love put sweet Vittoria in danger sa the soldier left, promising to one day claim her as his bride.
Time passed and Vittoria’s family pledged her to another, Giovanni Valente Just before the day that promised to be her darkest—her wedding day—her beloved American, Enrico Covelli, returned, asking for her hand in marriage
Vittoria pleaded to be released from her marital obligation. Angry, Giovanni took the Perrone family betrothal rings, snatched the bride’s band and placed it an his little finger, swearing never to give et up. Forevermore, the Covelli family was to be cursed!
Fifty years later the her remained ... only to be lifted if the heirloom ruby rings were rejoined in the name of love and returned to the rightful heir, Vittoria’s lovely firstborn granddaughter, Angelina Covelli.
This is Angelina’s story ...
Dear Reader,
The end of the century is near, and we’re all eagerly anticipating the wonders to come. But no matter what happens, I believe that everyone will continue to need and to seek the unquenchable spirit of love...of romance. And here at Silhouette Romance, we’re delighted to present another month’s worth of terrific, emotional stories.
This month, RITA Award-winning author Marie Ferrarella offers a tender BUNDLES OF JOY tale, in which The Baby Beneath the Mistletoe brings together a man who’s lost his faith and a woman who challenges him to take a chance at love...and family. In Charlotte Maclay’s charming new novel, a millionaire playboy isn’t sure what he was Expecting at Christmas, but what he gets is a very pregnant butler! Elizabeth Harbison launches her wonderful new theme-based miniseries, CINDERELLA BRIDES, with the fairy-tale romance—complete with mistaken identity!—between Emma and the Earl.
In A Diamond for Kate by Moyra Tarling, discover whether a doctor makes his devoted nurse his devoted wife after learning about her past... Patricia Thayer’s cross-line miniseries WITH THESE RINGS retums to Romance and poses the question: Can The Man, the Ring, the Wedding end a fifty-year-old curse? You’ll have to read this dramatic story to find out! And though The Millionaire’s Proposition involves making a baby in Natalie Patrick’s upbeat Romance, can a down-on-her-luck waitress also convince him to make beautiful memories...as man and wife?
Enjoy this month’s offerings, and look forward to a new century of timeless, traditional tales guaranteed to touch your heart!
Mary-Theresa Hussey
Senior Editor, Silhouette Romance
Please address questions and book requests to:
Silhouette Reader Service
U.S.: 3010 Walden Aye., PO. Box 1325, Buffalo, NY 14269
Canadian: P.O. Box 609, Fort Erie, Ont. L2A 5X3
The Man, The Ring, The Wedding
Patricia Thayer
www.millsandboon.co.uk
To all the new brides and grooms in my family this year. Amy and Kelly Klossner, Heather and Chris Beam, and especially to my son and his wife, Brett and Daralynn. Here’s to a lifetime of love and romance.
To Millie Caggiano—thanks for sharing your big Italian family with me.
PATRICIA THAYER
has been writing for fourteen years and has published over ten books with Silhouette. Her books have been nominated for the National Readers’ Choice Award, Virginia Romance Writers of America’s Holt Medallion and a prestigious RITA Award. In 1997, Nothing Short of a Miracle won the Romantic Times Magazine Reviewers’ Choice Award for Best Special Edition.
Thanks to the understanding men in her life—her husband of twenty-eight years, Steve, and her three sons—Pat has been able to fulfill her dream of writing romance. Another dream is to own a cabin in Colorado, where she can spend her days writing and her evenings with her favorite hero, Steve. She loves to hear from readers. You can write to her at P.O. Box 6251, Anaheim, CA 92816-0251.
Chapter One
She was looking at her future.
Angelina Covelli walked up the concrete steps of the historic hotel, passing by the familiar brass plaque on the cornerstone that read Grand Haven Hotel 1898. The old stone building had been a landmark in Haven Springs for the past thirty years.
Standing at the weathered oak doors, Angelina traced her fingers over beveled window panels with the initials GH cut into the frosted glass. Then taking a deep breath to renew her courage, she stepped across the threshold and went inside. After waiting for her eyes to adjust to the dimly lit lobby, she glanced around. Dust and cobwebs covered nearly everything, and a musty odor hung in the stuffy air.
Angelina smiled and slowly pivoted in a circle, trying to take in all the grandeur. “Incredible,” she breathed, her soft voice echoing off the bare walls.
She had toured the hotel once before with her brothers, but there hadn’t been nearly enough time to take everything in. She hoped to be able to see a lot more of this place in the following months when Covelli and Sons secured the bid to renovate. Her excitement—and relief—grew. The family business would be financially stable again. Just like when her dad was alive.
The last two years had been rough ones, but that was about to end along with her job as office manager for the family construction business. She could finally move on with her life—find that niche that would fulfill her and give her independence. But first she had to find the man who was going to help her.
“Hello, is anyone here?” Angelina called out as she approached the dark oak front desk with the intricately carved detail and marble top. Where was he? she wondered. John Rossi’s assistant had told her his boss would be arriving today. Although their appointment wasn’t until tomorrow afternoon, Angelina didn’t want to miss the chance to speak to the CEO before every other contractor descended on the hotel. She was going to make sure she made an impression—and was awarded the renovation job.
Walking along the grimy marble floor, she was careful her heels didn’t catch in the cracked tile. Her attention was drawn to the crystal teardrop chandeliers that hung from the high ceiling, making an elegant pathway through the large lobby and ending at a wide staircase that led to the second-floor balcony.
She climbed the steps cushioned by once-scarlet carpeting, now torn and faded by age. What a shame this beautiful place hadn’t been taken care of. Running a hand along the brass railing, she made the long trip to the top, wondering what it had been like to spend an evening as a guest here in the hotel’s heyday.
Her grandmother Vittoria had told her stories about the society balls held upstairs in the grand ballroom. Women dressed in long satin gowns and men in tuxedos had come from all around. Angelina hadn’t been to a formal dance since her prom. She smiled. She nearly hadn’t had a date that night because her brother Rick had threatened to break Jimmy Hitchcock’s arm if he got out of line.
No wonder men won’t come near me, Angelina thought, then sadly remembered why she was alone. It had been her choice, ever since she had lost the wonderful man she had met in college. Within two seconds she’d known that the handsome man with the warm hazel eyes would be her one true love. They were destined to be togethe
r...forever. But that had all changed when he died, leaving her alone. Love had betrayed her—now she was concentrating on her career.
She pushed away any sad thoughts as she turned and started back down the steps, imagining herself in an elegant, floor-length dress, a handsome man waiting for her at the front of the sweeping staircase. Someone like... She caught a sudden movement out of the corner of her eye. She jerked her head around to find a man standing in the shadows.
She gasped as her heart nearly jumped into her throat. The tall stranger had dark short hair and piercing eyes. He was dressed in faded jeans, a denim shirt and work boots.
“I’m sorry,” she said quickly. “I didn’t know anyone was here.” Who was he?
“What are you doing here?” he asked, as he approached the bottom step.
“I have an appointment,” she lied. “With Mr. Rossi. And you are?”
John Rossi watched as the beautiful woman came down the stairs. She was small in stature, but her body didn’t lack curves. His gaze moved over her charcoal-colored business jacket then lingered on her hips covered by a slim skirt.
“You could say that I work here,” he murmured, taking advantage of his angle to study her long, gorgeous legs.
“Oh, so you’re getting things ready for Mr. Rossi’s arrival?”
Slowly, his eyes raised to meet her sky-blue gaze. “Actually, I am—”
She waved a hand. “I’ll be working for Rossi International, too. That’s why I’m here.”
John stood back as she tossed her long midnight hair off her shoulders, his fingers itching to discover the softness of the silky strands. His body swiftly reacted to this sexy woman. She had flawless olive skin. A small, slender nose. But it was her mouth, her full, rosy lips, that had him distracted. He shook his head, trying to remember why he was here. And why this woman shouldn’t be. How did she get past security?
“So you have a job with Rossi?” he said.
That sensual mouth of hers twitched mischievously. “Well, not exactly. But I’m sure by tomorrow that will change.”
He folded his arms over his chest and leaned a hip against the brass staircase railing. He knew he should tell her who he was, but this conversation was too interesting to cut short. He cocked an eyebrow. “What is it you do exactly—and are so good at—that you know for sure you’ll be hired?”
“Well, I’m good at computers. Excellent, in fact.” She shook her head and her eyes widened. “But it’s not me. It’s my family business, Covelli and Sons. My brothers, Rick and Rafe, are bidding on the renovation job on this hotel.”
John froze, fighting to hide his surprise. So this was Angelina Covelli. They weren’t supposed to meet until tomorrow. “What time is your appointment?”
“Actually I’m a bit early.”
Like twenty-four hours, he thought. “A little eager?”
“I just don’t want to miss an opportunity.” Angelina finished her trip down the steps and began walking around the lobby. “I mean, look at this place. It needs a lot of work by expert hands to ensure it doesn’t lose its beautiful grandeur. Nothing should be changed, just restored. Like the front desk. Keep it just as is, except for installing computers. My brothers can handle that without any problems,” she assured him.
John followed her to the desk and watched as she ran her hand over the marble surface. He quickly grabbed her wrist. “Careful, you’ll get dirty.”
His gaze locked again on her incredible eyes. Feeling the heat surge through him, he released her arm. “This place hasn’t been deemed safe yet. It’s being checked out today by the building engineer. There could be unsafe areas.”
“Is that your job?”
He was ready to tell her who he was. “It’s one of my jobs, but I’m here because—” He paused. “I need to get things ready for tomorrow.”
Her smile dropped. “I was hoping to meet Mr. Rossi today.”
“I believe he’s scheduled all appointments for tomorrow,” John said.
“But I want to see him first. Pitch my outline of ideas for the renovation, one on one. It’s so hard to talk with a roomful of other contractors around.” Her blue eyes met his and a slow smile spread across her face. “Maybe you could help me. Put in a good word for me and my company.”
She opened her thin leather briefcase and pulled out a folder. “We have tons of references. And we’ve been in business for over thirty years. Please,” she said, pushing the folder towards him. “Could you at least give this to him?”
John raised his hands, knowing he had to tell her who he was. “Look Ms....”
“Covelli, Angelina.”
“A beautiful name.”
“Thank you.” She smiled again.
His chest tightened and he found himself taking the folder. “Look, Ms. Covelli, I should tell you that I’m—”
“Mr. Rossi,” a voice called from the door behind him. “There’s a call on your phone. Your office in New York.”
“Please tell them I’ll call them back,” John instructed, then turned back to see the fiery look in Angelina Covelli’s eyes.
“As I was about to tell you, I’m John Rossi, Ms. Covelli.” He held out his hand. “It’s nice to meet you. Mark Learner, my assistant, has been singing your praises the past few months.”
She looked down at his hand then finally shook it. “I apologize, Mr. Rossi. I know I should have waited until tomorrow, but I was hoping to be the first to see you.”
He cocked an eyebrow. “So you were trying to get the advantage?”
She raised her gaze and stared at him. “Whatever it takes. But ask around, Covelli and Sons is the best for the job.” She pulled out a business card and handed it to him. “You will be disappointed if you choose anyone else.” She pivoted on her high-heeled shoes and, with an arrogant tilt of her chin, marched across the lobby.
Unable to tear his gaze away, John watched the raven-haired Angelina until she disappeared through the door.
“Damn,” he breathed, angry with himself for not being better prepared for Ms. Covelli. He hadn’t planned on their first meeting happening like this. And the last thing he expected was to turn into a randy teenager the second she batted those big blue eyes at him, making him forget the reason he’d come to Haven Springs, Indiana.
He walked into the small room behind the registration desk. At one time, it had been a large linen closet. Now it would serve as his office for the next thirty days. Time enough to get the Grand Haven project under way, and most importantly, to be back in New York in time to spend the holidays with the only family he had, his grandfather.
And maybe by that time, he’d find out all he needed to know about the Covellis.
Angelina made it back to Covelli and Sons’ office and collapsed into her desk chair. With a groan, she dropped her head into her hands. She had messed up everything, and her brothers were going to kill her.
She thought back to the fiasco at the hotel, and to the man who she had thought was the security guard. John Rossi had no right to be dressed in jeans and boots. He was from New York. A CEO for goodness sakes! Where was the three-piece suit? And he’d flirted with her, too. Wasn’t there some sort of law about that?
She groaned again. She had flirted back. But a woman would have to be comatose not to recognize the man’s good looks. “Tall, dark and handsome” definitely fitted him. How could you not notice his thick black hair and those bottomless dark eyes? At about six feet, he had broad shoulders that had no problem filling out his denim shirt. More than likely he worked out in one of those fancy New York gyms.
An alarm went off in Angelina’s brain, and she pulled herself out of her reverie. Reaching for some papers on the desk, she began to straighten the stack. Why was she thinking about things she had no business thinking about? She didn’t daydream about men. There was no future for her in it, hadn’t been for a long time.
The memories weren’t as painful as they once had been when she thought about Justin Hinshaw, her one and only love. A me
re four years seemed like a lifetime ago...and she still had her whole life ahead of her. Still, she would never risk her heart again. “So stop thinking about things you’ll never have,” she murmured. “And remember what needs to be done.” First and foremost, she had to never forget that John Rossi ran the company that controlled the future of Covelli and Sons.
The phone rang and she jumped. She reached for the receiver and picked it up. “Covelli and Sons.”
“Ms. Covelli, this is John Rossi.”
A lump formed in her throat and she swallowed it back. “Mr. Rossi,” she choked out. “What can I do for you?”
“I’m calling to confirm a meeting with you and your brothers tomorrow morning. Ten o’clock is my first scheduled appointment. Would that be a convenient time?”
Oh, God. Angelina placed her hand over her racing heart. They were going to get the first shot. “Yes. Ten o’clock will be fine,” she said. “Thank you, Mr. Rossi.”
“Good, I’ll look forward to seeing you tomorrow,” he said in his deep voice. “Can’t wait to hear more of your ideas.”
“I’ve got plenty,” Angelina added, but controlled her enthusiasm, managing not to blurt any of them out on the phone.
“I bet you do,” he replied. “Until tomorrow, goodbye, Ms. Covelli.”
“Goodbye.” There was a click in her ear.
Angelina replaced the phone and realized her hands were shaking. He hadn’t called off the meeting. She smiled. “He wants to hear more of my ideas.”
“Who wants to hear what?”
Angelina looked up to see one of her brothers standing in the doorway.