The Italian's Cinderella Bride

“Do you know what that is?” Pietro asked.

“Yes, it’s a gondolier, signaling that he’s coming around a blind corner,” she said. “There he is.”

As they watched, a long shape drifted into sight, turning toward them—the gondolier plying his oar at the rear, and in front of him a young man and woman in each other’s arms.

I must tell her now, Pietro thought.

From down below the lovers looked up, then smiled and waved, as though wanting to share their happiness with the world, before vanishing under the bridge.

I will tell her, but how will she take it?

Just like having a heart to heart with your best friend, these stories

will take you from laughter to tears and back again!

Curl up and have a

with

Harlequin Romance^>®

So heartwarming and emotional

you’ll want to have some tissues handy!

In August don’t miss

FALLING FOR MR. DARK & DANGEROUS

by Donna Alward

When hardened U.S. Marshal Nate arrives on her doorstep, bed-and-breakfast owner Maggie knows it’s her heart that will need protecting!

TORONTO • NEW YORK • LONDON

AMSTERDAM • PARIS • SYDNEY • HAMBURG STOCKHOLM • ATHENS • TOKYO • MILAN • MADRID PRAGUE • WARSAW • BUDAPEST • AUCKLAND

Lucy Gordon cut her writing teeth on magazine journalism, interviewing many of the world’s most interesting men, including Warren Beatty, Richard Chamberlain, Roger Moore, Sir Alec Guinness and Sir John Gielgud. She has also camped out with lions in Africa, and had many other unusual experiences which have often provided the background for her books. She is married to a Venetian, whom she met while on holiday in Venice. They got engaged within two days.

Two of her books have won the Romance Writers of America RITA^>® Award, Song of the Lorelei in 1990, and His Brother’s Child in 1998, for the Best Traditional Romance category.

You can visit her Web site at www.lucy-gordon.com.

Look out for Lucy Gordon’s next

Harlequin Romance^>® in December

THE ITALIAN’S MIRACLE FAMILY

Dear Reader,

I love the chance to write about Venice. It is like no other place in the world with its freedom from cars, its mysterious silences, its sudden dangers and above all its unique atmosphere of romance.

I know about that atmosphere, having myself fallen under its spell. Some years ago I took a holiday there, met a Venetian, became engaged to him in two days and am now Venetian by marriage. So the Grand Canal and the Rialto Bridge have a special meaning for me, but it is the little places that mean even more—the tiny bridges, the narrow canals with washing strung across them, the backstreets where a couple can lose themselves, hopefully forever.

This is what I have tried to celebrate in my story of Pietro and Ruth, two lost souls who found each other with the help of a magical city.

Warm wishes,

Lucy Gordon

CHAPTER ONE

CHAPTER TWO

CHAPTER THREE

CHAPTER FOUR

CHAPTER FIVE

CHAPTER SIX

CHAPTER SEVEN

CHAPTER EIGHT

CHAPTER NINE

CHAPTER TEN

CHAPTER ELEVEN

CHAPTER TWELVE

WHEN lightning filled the room, Pietro went to the window and looked out into the night.

He enjoyed a storm, especially when it swept over his beloved Venice, flashing down the Grand Canal, making the historic buildings tremble. To those who sighed over the beauties of Venice he would say that ‘his’ city was not the gentle, romantic site of legend, but rather a place of savage cruelty, treachery and murder.

Thunder crashed, engulfing him and the whole Palazzo Bagnelli, then dying, so that the only sound was the pounding of the rain on the water.

In the dim light he could just make out the Rialto Bridge looming up to his right, its shuttered windows glaring like blind eyes.

From beside him came a soft whine, and he reached out to scratch the head of a large, mongrel dog.

‘It’s all right, Toni,’ he said. ‘It’s only noise.’

But he kept his hand on the rough fur, knowing that his friend had an affliction that made him nervous, and Toni moved closer.

Now it was dark again and he could see his own reflection in the glass. It was like looking at a ghost, which was apt, considering how ghostly his life was.

Even the building around him seemed insubstantial, despite its three floors of heavy stone. The Palazzo Bagnelli, home of the Counts Bagnelli for six centuries, was one of the finest buildings of its kind in Venice.

For many years its great rooms had been filled with notable personages; servants by the hundred had scurried along its passages. Lords and ladies in gorgeous clothes had paraded in its stately rooms.

Now they were all gone, leaving behind one man, Count Pietro Bagnelli, with neither wife nor child, nor any other close family. Only two servants were left, and he was content with that.

These days he invited nobody to his home, living a solitary life in a few rooms in a corner of the building, with only Toni for company. Even to himself it had a sense of unreality, especially in winter. It was only nine o’clock but darkness had fallen and the storm had driven everyone inside.