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  THE BRIDES OF BELLA LUCIA

  A family divided by secrets, reunited by marriage

  When William Valentine returned from the war, as a testament to his love for his beautiful Italian wife, Lucia, he opened the first Bella Lucia restaurant in London. The future looked bright, and William had, he thought, the perfect family.

  Now William is nearly ninety and not long for this world, but he has three top London restaurants. He also has two sons, John and Robert, and grown-up grandchildren on both sides of the Atlantic who are poised to take this small gastronomic success story into the twenty-first century.

  But when William dies and the family fights to control the destiny of the Bella Lucia business, they discover a multitude of long-buried secrets, scandals and the threat of financial ruin—but also two great loves they hadn’t even dreamt of: the love of a lifelong partner, and the love of a family reunited….

  Read the first two books of this compelling new miniseries and meet twin sisters: Rebecca Valentine, in Coming Home to the Cowboy by Patricia Thayer (Silhouette Romance), and Rachel Valentine, in Having the Frenchman’s Baby by Rebecca Winters (Harlequin Romance). Be sure to see how this series unfolds in Harlequin Romance, starting in September 2006!

  PATRICIA THAYER

  Coming Home to the Cowboy

  Books by Patricia Thayer

  Silhouette Romance

  Just Maggie #895

  Race to the Altar #1009

  The Cowboy’s Courtship #1064

  Wildcat Wedding #1086

  Reilly’s Bride #1146

  The Cowboy’s Convenient Bride #1261

  *Her Surprise Family #1394

  *The Man, the Ring, the Wedding #1412

  †Chance’s Joy #1518

  †A Child for Cade #1524

  †Travis Comes Home #1530

  The Princess Has Amnesia! #1606

  †Jared’s Texas Homecoming #1680

  †Wyatt’s Ready-Made Family #1707

  †Dylan’s Last Dare #1711

  **A Taste of Paradise #1770

  **Familiar Adversaries #1779

  **Lights, Action…Family! #1788

  Coming Home to the Cowboy #1826

  Silhouette Special Edition

  Nothing Short of a Miracle #1116

  Baby, Our Baby! #1225

  *The Secret Millionaire #1252

  Whose Baby Is This? #1335

  PATRICIA THAYER

  has been writing for sixteen years and has published twenty books with Silhouette. Her books have been nominated for the National Readers’ Choice Award, Virginia Romance Writers of America’s Holt Medallion, Orange Rose Contest and a prestigious RITA® Award. In 1997, Nothing Short of a Miracle won the Romantic Times BOOKClub Reviewers’ Choice Award for Best Special Edition.

  Thanks to the understanding men in her life—her husband of thirty-plus years, Steve, and her three grown sons and two grandsons—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, or check her Web site at www.patriciathayer.com for upcoming books.

  To the Valentine Ladies, Rebecca, Helen, Ally,

  Linda, Teresa, Barbara and Liz…

  Thanks for showing the new kid the ropes.

  I’ve enjoyed working with you all, especially my twin,

  Rebecca Winters, for giving me your time and expertise.

  I value your friendship.

  CONTENTS

  PROLOGUE

  CHAPTER ONE

  CHAPTER TWO

  CHAPTER THREE

  CHAPTER FOUR

  CHAPTER FIVE

  CHAPTER SIX

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  CHAPTER NINE

  CHAPTER TEN

  EPILOGUE

  PROLOGUE

  SHE had run out of time.

  Rebecca Valentine stood at the large window overlooking Central Park. She’d worked hard to gain this big office and the junior partnership at the Pierce Advertising Agency. That had been her goal since college. It had taken ten years but she’d achieved it. In the meantime, she’d lost something she wanted even more.

  She reread the official report from her recent medical tests. “The buildup of scar tissue caused by advanced stages of endometriosis… This condition highly decreases the ability to conceive. Surgery recommended.”

  In layman’s terms, there would be no babies in her future.

  Not that her OBGYN, Dr Shields, hadn’t warned her for years to have a child early. And not that Rebecca had deliberately put it off. She just hadn’t found a man to be a suitable father, and, of course, her career had contributed to the delay. But thirty-three shouldn’t be too old to have a baby.

  Deep down inside she’d wanted children. She wasn’t sure she’d be good mother material, but now she’d never have a chance to find out. She’d never get the chance to feel a life move in her womb, nourish a baby at her breast, and give her child all the love she knew was so precious.

  A tear escaped, and she wiped it away. Dr Shields had also informed her she was anemic and needed to slow down, get away from the stress of her job. The prescription had been for her to take some time off. How was she supposed to do that when she was responsible for no fewer than ten accounts? They were all important to her, especially now since all she had was her career.

  There was a sharp knock on her office door and Brent Pierce poked his head in. The good-looking son of the agency’s owner always had a smile for her. “Hey, Beck, have I got a proposition for you.”

  “Unless it involves relaxing on a beach somewhere for the next two weeks, I’m not interested. I’m overdue for a vacation.”

  “You, go on vacation?” He shook his head. “You’d be bored within two days.”

  “Brent, I’ve been working nonstop for the last six months. My doctor said I needed to take some time off. I’m anemic.” That was all she was going to tell him.

  He came into the room and sat on the edge of her desk. “So you’ll eat a lot of red meat. I need you on this one, Rebecca. It’s a new account for free-range beef.” Suddenly his eyes brightened. “You know, I think there’s a way we both can get what we want. You can still handle this new account and have your vacation, too.” His smile widened. “How do you feel about exchanging a beach for a ranch in Wyoming?”

  CHAPTER ONE

  REBECCA looked out the window of the Cessna at the vast miles of majestic Rocky Mountain range. The brilliant May sun was reflecting off the dew-covered emerald-green pastures below.

  Suddenly the plane dipped lower and she got a better look. The Tucker ranch came into view. Pristine white fences lined the road that led to a sprawling brick and white clapboard house trimmed with dark green shutters and surrounded by a perfectly manicured lawn. Her attention shifted to the outer buildings, several brightly painted red barns. In a large corral two beautiful white and black leopard-spotted horses, Appaloosas, ambled back and forth.

  So this is Mitchell Tucker’s Wyoming empire.

  Rebecca felt the familiar stirring of excitement at the prospect of a new client. The chase and proving her talent were her favorite parts of the job. Her record was impeccable when it came to landing the premier accounts. She wasn’t going to give this millionaire rancher the opportunity to consider any other agency to promote his new business, free-range beef.

  The pilot tapped her on the shoulder and motioned that they were going to land.

  “I’m ready,” she called and drew a calming breath. This might be partly a vacation, but she planned to work her tail off too. I
t was the only thing she knew how to do. Besides, what else was there to do in Wyoming?

  Waiting for the plane to land, Mitch Tucker leaned against his black Range Rover. His kids stood beside him at the end of the private landing strip. He was still wondering if he’d needed his head examined to agree to contact a New York ad agency. He’d relinquished that part of his life two years ago when he’d sold off all his international holdings. His focus was on business close to home in Wyoming. He’d resisted getting involved again with that old fast-paced lifestyle. He’d hoped to do everything locally, while being hands-on with the whole operation.

  He glanced at his eleven-year-old daughter. Greta Caroline not only looked like her mother, blonde and fair-skinned with rich sapphire-blue eyes, she was also just as stubborn when she wanted something. His daughter was the one who’d practically taken over his idea to raise free-range beef.

  Greta had spent hours on the Internet researching marketing agencies for this project. And after he’d done some of his own research he knew they needed the right promotion to make their venture profitable. Not that he needed to worry about money. Working together with his kids was what mattered most. This was the first thing Greta had taken an interest in since her mother’s death. He couldn’t deny her this.

  If it hadn’t been for his children, losing Carrie would have finished him. At the time of their mother’s death, Greta was nine and Colby was only three. Someone had to take care of them. That alone made Mitch drag himself out of bed every day, put one foot in front of the other and keep moving forward.

  Two years later, he’d long since stopped his travel and gotten more involved in the ranching operation. But always in the center of everything were his kids. They were the reason he was standing here waiting for a New York executive to help promote his new beef program. This was just the beginning of his new life. Someday, he wanted to give his kids a complete family again.

  “Please, Daddy, promise you’ll be nice.”

  He looked down at his daughter’s worried face. “This is business; you can’t always be nice. I’ll be polite.”

  “But you can be…intimidating.”

  “In business, that’s not a bad way to be, Greta.”

  She sighed dramatically. “You said you’d give this a chance. I’ve researched this, and we need the right kind of advertising, the right market to promote our beef. Please, just listen to Ms Valentine’s ideas.”

  He forced a smile. “I said I would, and you know I don’t go back on my promises.” How in the hell is a New Yorker going to know anything about ranching in Wyoming? “I talked with Brent Pierce and he’s assured me that Ms Valentine is the right person for this job.”

  Greta nodded enthusiastically. “Rebecca Valentine is one of their top agents and a junior partner. She’s worked for the Pierce Agency since college when she graduated Summa Cum Laude ten years ago—”

  “Whoa, where did you get all this information?”

  She looked up at him, showing off the pretty smile that was going to do him in. “I did my research like you taught me.”

  Before he could say anything more, Colby began jumping up and down, pointing to the other end of the runway as the plane touched down. “They’re here, Dad.”

  When the plane stopped taxiing, Mitch took his son’s hand and the three of them hurried onto the runway. He would give this a chance, just as he’d promised, realizing he had to be crazy to invite a career-driven female into his home. Ms Valentine wasn’t the type of woman he planned to expose his kids to, or the type who would be content living on a cattle ranch.

  Mitch paused next to the Cessna as his pilot and his ranch manager, Wally Hagan, walked around and popped open the passenger door. The first thing he saw of the New York agent was a pair of black high-heeled shoes that were attached to long, shapely legs. A sudden dryness in Mitch’s throat made it difficult to swallow when bare knees and part of a thigh made an appearance.

  Holding Wally’s hand, the passenger finally made it out of the plane. Clearing the wing, she stepped into the sunlight and Mitch couldn’t catch his breath. Rebecca Valentine was a tall woman with golden brown hair that was drawn back into a bun, except for a few wayward curls that circled her pretty face.

  A smile touched her full mouth, but it was her light blue, almost gray eyes that he was drawn to. He didn’t realize he’d been staring until his daughter nudged him.

  “Ms Valentine…I’m Mitch Tucker,” he said and held out his hand. “Welcome to Wyoming.”

  She had a firm handshake. “Please, call me Rebecca.”

  “And I’m Mitch.” He quickly moved on. “This is my daughter, Greta.”

  She took the girl’s hand. “Greta, it’s good to finally meet you.”

  “I’m glad to meet you, too, Ms Valentine.”

  “Since we’ll all be working together, please call me Rebecca.”

  Greta turned to her father and he nodded his permission.

  Mitch gathered his small son in front of him. The five-year-old was already dirty and his dark curly hair unruly. “And this is Colby.”

  She leaned down to look in his eyes. “Hello, Colby.”

  Colby smiled, showing off his missing bottom tooth. “Hi, Rebecca, I’m five.” He held up his spread fingers.

  “My, that’s old,” she said. “I bet you go to school.”

  He bobbed his head. “This year I start kindergarten.”

  Mitch motioned to the SUV. “Well, let’s take you to the house and get you settled in.”

  Wally helped Mitch load the suitcases and the kids climbed in back. He came around the passenger side to find Rebecca attempting to climb into the high seat. Her narrow skirt rose up dangerously, threatening Rebecca’s modesty, and Mitch’s sanity.

  “SUVs and short skirts don’t mix,” she said. “I guess I didn’t think about this outfit being impractical. I should have worn pants.”

  “Jeans might even be better,” he offered. “If you’ll allow me to help, we can get going.”

  “Sure.”

  She gasped as he scooped her up. He dropped her in the bucket seat, but not before he caught a whiff of her scent, and felt the enticing curve of her small waist.

  “Like I said, pants will make it easier…for all of us.” He grimaced, knowing his words were too revealing.

  Hell, he’d been widowed for two years. Just about anything would set him off.

  The house was even more impressive close up. Rebecca eyed the small details of the fence and flowers that hung from the front porch. Mitch pulled the car into the circular drive and continued around the structure to the back.

  “We live pretty simply here and the back door is closer to everything,” Mitch told her.

  “I know,” Rebecca replied. “I spent a lot of time at my grandparents’, we always used the back door.”

  For some reason she was just chattering away. She knew Mitch Tucker hadn’t been exactly thrilled about calling in a New York company, but a good businessman should want the right promotion for his product. She just needed to convince him that she was the best person to do that for him.

  Once parked, she opened the truck door and got out without any help. Mitch grabbed her bags and went up the step to the small back porch. Colorful pots filled with flowers were arranged against the house, making the place look homely and welcoming.

  Mitch opened the glass-paneled door and motioned her in. She walked into a mud room with a washer and dryer; several pairs of boots were lined against one wall. She crossed another threshold into a bright yellow kitchen with maple cabinets and white-tiled counters. A trestle-table sat in front of a row of windows that overlooked a view of the ranch.

  “This is lovely,” she said as Mitch walked through, carrying her bags down a hall.

  She started to follow him when Greta stopped her. “Yellow was my mom’s favorite color,” the girl said.

  Colby pulled a chair out and climbed up on it. “She died when I was really little,” he announced as his brown
eyes glistened.

  “I’m sorry.” Even though Rebecca knew the Tucker family history, she wasn’t prepared to deal with this. No child should have to be without a mother.

  “She loved us a whole bunch,” the boy added.

  “I’m sure she did,” Rebecca said, fighting the urge to wrap her arms around this child.

  “Do you have any little boys?” Colby asked.

  Her chest tightened with the familiar pain. “No, I don’t.”

  “Any little girls?”

  Rebecca swallowed. Unable to speak, she shook her head.

  Greta stepped in. “Colby, Rebecca is a career woman and she flies all over the country for her job.”

  Colby put his hands on his hips. “I know that, but she can have kids, too.”

  Mitch returned. “Hey, can’t you two at least stop arguing until Rebecca gets settled? You don’t want to scare her off.”

  The children’s eyes widened. “We’re sorry, Rebecca,” Greta said.

  Mitch pointed to the hall. “Why don’t I show you to your room so you can rest?”

  Rebecca was tired and her stomach was a little unsettled after the long trip into Denver, and the flight to the ranch. “How about I rest a while, then later we’ll discuss some ideas?”

  “You rest today. Tomorrow is soon enough,” Mitch said.

  Before Rebecca could argue, he was escorting her down the hall. He led her to a doorway off the main floor and opened double doors leading into a large bedroom. The walls were painted a pale blue with white crown moldings and off-white carpeting. A mahogany four-poster bed was adorned with an ecru satin comforter.

  “Oh, this is a beautiful room.” She sighed. “I think it’s bigger than my entire apartment back in New York.”

  He smiled and she felt the jolt all the way to her toes. “Land is more plentiful here and I hope it stays that way.” He waved to the full-sized bathroom. “There should be plenty of towels in the cabinet. If there’s anything else you need let me know. Our housekeeper, Margie, is away for a few months on family business. So the kids and I are handling things on our own this summer.”