She’d known there were people. As she’d walked up the aisle she’d seen them in her peripheral vision. But all her attention had been on the man waiting for her at the altar. Stock-still, pale, looking at her as if she were an illusion—as if fearful she’d disappear in a wisp of smoke if he so much as blinked.

Now, as they walked back down the aisle together, her arm tightly clamped to his side, she saw them all properly-—her parents, her brother and sister, aunts, a few cousins, Rosanna’s boys, Daniel Graydon who’d helped with Vance’s bar, Vance himself too, she recognised Ruben Theroux—yeah, Lorenzo had gotten use of his Hanmer house because they were friends—and she recognised the Wilsons, Kat, Cara, plus some others who she guessed were vineyard workers. All were here to celebrate with them.

From somewhere—who knew where?—a couple of large buses had appeared out the front of the church. They all climbed aboard and were taken to the reception in a marquee in the middle of the Wilsons’ vineyard. They dined and danced and laughed. It seemed Lorenzo really had impressed her father. The two of them bonded over fine wine and possible investments. Her mother was just floored by him. Sophy understood that all too well. Sophy gazed round at the gleaming silverware, the white and silver decorations making the room sparkle.

It was the grandest gesture anyone had ever done for her. She who’d organised this and that—the surprise parties here, the celebrations there. The biggest day of her life had been arranged by all who loved her. In an old church in the middle of nowhere the man she loved had given himself to her—unreservedly.

‘I can’t believe you did all this for me.’ She gazed up at him as they danced together on the specially constructed wooden floor.

‘I wanted to do something nice for you.’ He smiled faintly.

‘You’ve done a lot of nice things already, Lorenzo— you gave me workshop space, you gave me time in Hanmer, you did those designs for me.’

‘But it was all with conditions. There are no conditions on this.’

‘Other than that I promise to be your wife and to love you always.’

‘Just that little thing, yeah.’

‘Unconditionally given.’

He pulled her closer. ‘Do you mind not getting to organise your own wedding?’

‘Mind?!’ She laughed in absolute delight. ‘I’m so relieved I don’t have to. No stress. I could just enjoy it.’

‘Rosanna was fantastic.’ He brushed her cheek with the backs of his fingers. ‘So were your parents.’

‘Thank you so much.’

‘They love you.’

She nodded, unable to speak any more.

‘Sophy?’

She turned into his arms, hiding her tears in his neck.

‘I love you.’

She looked at him then. He was smiling, his face light, his eyes warm and free of shadows. ‘If I’d known how good it felt to say it, I’d have said it back that day when you rang for the doctor in my apartment. I wanted to make love to you then—I’m going to now.’

She reached up to him, placing the palm of her hand on the slightly rough cheek. ‘Thank goodness,’ she sighed. ‘I was worried you’d taken a vow of abstinence.’

‘I did,’ he said soberly. ‘I wasn’t going to be with you again until you were my wife.’

‘And now I am.’

‘Yes.’

They whispered quiet goodbyes to the others, then slipped away in the night—running together down the rows of vines, to the small cottage at the far comer of the land. It had been decked in flowers, the sweet scent filling the air.

His arms were tight about her. ‘Thank you, thank you, thank you.’

‘For what?’

‘Everything.’ He looked down, a half-smile quirking his lips. ‘I talked to your father.’

‘You did?’ She felt some nerves twinge.