It had been his trademark all his life: looks and charm, both with a slightly fierce edge that turned heads. He knew what was said of him, that he could have any woman he wanted, and although he enjoyed the joke he accepted it as his due.

Any woman he wanted.

Except one.

‘Only you and Francesco left now,’ someone said. ‘I guess your mother’s making plans.’

He laughed, saying, ‘They won’t get me.’

‘You say that at every wedding,’ observed his brother Luke, who was passing.

‘You used to say it at every wedding,’ Ruggiero reminded him. ‘The difference is that I’ve held out. I’m a shining example.’

Luke paused long enough to wave to Minnie, his wife of two years, who waved back between sips of champagne.

‘Just beware,’ he said to Ruggiero, ‘lest one day the shining example wakes up to find he’s a lonely old man. Coming, cara.’

Ruggiero grinned, accepting this as just one of those things brothers felt obliged to say at weddings, and returned to his duties, flirting with a shy young woman until she laughed and began to enjoy herself.

When it was time for the speeches he did an excellent job, even if he said so himself-which he did. He was rewarded with looks of gratitude from Carlo and Della, and a smile of fond approval from his mother.

‘You’re a wonderful best man,’ she said afterwards.

‘Against all your expectations?’ he teased.

‘The only thing that surprises me,’ Hope informed him, ‘is that you don’t have some over-painted young hussy clinging to your arm.’

‘I didn’t want any distractions when I had a job to do,’ he explained blandly.

‘Hmm!’

‘Don’t be so cynical, Mamma.’

‘Don’t be-? I have six sons, and you’re surprised that I’m cynical?’

He grinned, and glided away to attend to the needs of a Rinucci great-aunt.

‘Be fair to him,’ Evie said, appearing at Hope’s side.

She was the wife of Justin, Hope’s eldest son. Before their marriage she’d been a natural rebel, caring only for her motorbike. Happy marriage and the birth of twins had softened some of Evie’s glittering edge, but had done nothing to dull the gleam of humour in her eyes.