Mina’s head was spinning. She looked at the woman she’d blamed for everything and began to see her in a new light.
“So you don’t mind that I’m back?” Her bravery tanks were less full than before, but with Marco standing beside her she felt she could handle the answer.
“No, Mina,” Bianca said her name for the first time, “I am grateful you have returned. You hold my son’s heart, and with him is where you belong.”
Marco stepped up and wrapped his arm around her waist. He looked across the room at his mother, and Mina could feel the tension still in him.
“I hope that in time, you will come to understand an old woman’s motivations. I only wanted what was best for him.”
The fight had gone out of the matriarch and she suddenly seemed old and frail.
“Mamma,” Marco started but Mina cut him off.
“Signora, I think I understand now. I would do anything to make sure the ones I love are happy as well.”
Dark eyes searched hers, looking for something. She must have found it because she nodded.
“I believe you would.” There was respect in her voice for the first time. “I am glad for that.”
Marco refused to be kept silent.
“I’m going to marry her,” he announced, and he and his mother shared a silent conversation.
Bianca nodded. “I am counting on it.”
Married? Mina twisted in Marco’s arms to look up into his face.
“Whoa! Hold on a minute there, Casanova, haven’t you forgotten something?”
Marco’s grip tightened on her as she squirmed and he shook his head.
“No, Amore, I remember everything.” He looked down at her, a fierce love on his face. “I swore I’d make my dream come true, remember?”
Mina remembered. The ring, the baby, the promise. She also remembered what it was like without him, and she knew that fighting him would be fighting her own happiness.
“I remember,” she said, turning and giving a wink to his mother. “It’s just that a girl doesn’t like to be taken for granted.”
Bianca gave a rare smile and waved a hand at them.
“I will leave you to resolve this argument on your own.” She looked at Marco and raised an eyebrow. “I don’t think even you are talented enough to screw this up.”
She closed the door as she left and Marco turned Mina in his arms. The quiet in the room was no longer a space between them, and Mina buried her face in his shoulder, wondering at how she’d ever made it to this point.
“So,” Marco started.
“So?” she asked, knowing the question but wanting to hear it.
“Will you marry me, bellisima mia? Even with my manipulative mother, my Galahad brother, and my terrible need to have you all to myself?” His voice was carefully undemanding, but she could see the hope flaring in his eyes.
Mina’s imagination filled in years of family dinners, of yelling and making up, of children and grandchildren, and she couldn’t imagine a better world.
“Well, given the situation,” she kept her voice low and serious, and then when she saw a wrinkle crease his brow she took pity on him, “yes! A thousand times yes!”
Marco let out a breath, relief clear on his face, and his arms tightened almost painfully around her.
“I thought,” he started but Mina cut him off with a kiss.
“That’s a bad idea,” she said, her eyes glowing mischievously. “No more thinking. We work better when we just go on instinct.”
She kissed him again, instinct telling her that he needed proof of her love as much as she’d needed proof of his. Long minutes passed, and when they came back down to Earth Marco grinned, his devilish smile taking her breath away.
“Instinct?” He swept her up in his arms and made for the door, his long legs eating up the distance back to their bedroom. “I can work with that.”
Mina dropped the clothes she’d been clutching all this time and flung her arms around his neck.
So could she.