Pure temper oozed from her pores. She clenched her jaw and spoke between gritted teeth. “Don’t even think about it, Count. Just leave her and Nick alone. Solve your own damn problems.”
“As I am trying to do.”
She lifted herself up on tiptoes and got in his face. Her breath rushed over his lips, a heady combination of coffee and cognac and arousal. “I swear to God, if you even present such a crazy idea to them I’ll—”
“What? Once I explain the situation, Nick will understand. Alexa has always wanted to travel to Italy, and it will only be for a few days. This is a family emergency.”
“You’re not family!” The words breezed past his ears with a whoosh and he caught the edge of resentment in her tone. “Stop interfering in their life and get one of your own.”
He clucked his tongue. “So angry, la mia tigrotta. Are you jealous?”
Her hands reached out and clenched around his upper arms. The bite of her nails dug into his muscles and only upped the swirling sensual tension between them. “No, I’m pissed you’re still hanging around Alexa like a lost puppy dog, and now my own brother doesn’t even see it. I wish there was a way to get rid of you. I wish I could—”
Her mouth snapped shut. Very slowly, she removed her nails from his arms and took a step back. His body mourned the loss of her female heat. Michael watched with trepidation as the gleam in her eyes brightened. Somehow, he didn’t think her next words would be good. Somehow, she looked a bit dangerous.
“If I agree to this insane plan, you’ll give me anything I want?”
Her sudden turn of direction made his stomach lurch. “Yes.”
Her lips curved into a smile, stained red and perfectly formed. He stared helplessly at that sensual mouth, made for carnal delights beyond his fantasies. Dios, his body throbbed with a painful pressure and distracted him from rational conversation. He thought of the nuns in the Catholic church he grew up with and some of the pulsing blood calmed.
“Okay. I’ll do it.”
He didn’t celebrate. Just stared at her with suspicion. “What do you want?”
The triumph on her face superseded her words. “I want you to stay away from Alexa.”
Michael flinched. Somehow, his clever ammunition misfired. He mentally cursed for leaving himself wide open for her sneak attack. Her continued insistence he was secretly in love with Alexa usually amused him, but now he faced something more vital. He decided to pretend to misunderstand. “Of course,” he agreed. “I’ll keep my distance if you’d like.”
Her gaze narrowed. “Don’t think you understand the agreement, Count. When she invites you over for Sunday dinners, you will be busy. No more visiting Lily. No more attending family functions. You can deal with Nick in a business capacity, but from now on, you will no longer consider yourself a close friend of Alexa. Capisce?”
Oh yeah. He understood. His irritation grew at her inability to state his first name. The elegant title became mocking uttered from her lips, and a dominant need to force her to use his birth name shook through him. Preferably while she was on her back, thighs parted, crazed with lust for him. He retreated behind a cool facade and prayed she wouldn’t notice the bulge in his pants. “Why are you so threatened, cara? What are you afraid will happen between Alexa and me?”
Her chin lifted. “I’ve seen how easy it is to ruin something good,” she said with a tinge of bitterness. “Alexa and Nick are happy. She doesn’t need a man sniffing around the sidelines. They may trust your intentions, but I don’t.” Maggie paused. Her final words came out in a harsh whisper. “I see the way you look at her.”
Michael fought for air as her blunt words attacked him like wasp stings. She really thought so little of him. To imagine he’d try to break up a marriage and betray a trust sliced deep. Still, within his own anger and pain at her beliefs, he admired her gutsy move. Once she devoted herself to another person, she’d be loyal for life. Perhaps that’s why she avoided long-term entanglements.
Her body vibrated with tension and raw emotion. “I’m sick of everyone saying I’m crazy. Just this once, admit to me you love her. Tell me the truth, give me your promise to stay away, and I’ll pretend to be your bride.”
He studied her in brooding silence. Arguing was fruitless. Alexa reminded him of his sisters whom he’d left behind in Italy, and she soothed a need for comfort in a sometimes lonely world. She owned the impulsiveness of Venezia, the responsibility of Julietta, and the sweetness of Carina. Obviously, the warmth that radiated in his face when he looked at her had been misconstrued by her best friend.
Perhaps this was for the best.
Maggie’s delicious body and sharp mind already attracted him. He didn’t need any scenarios where they ended up in bed together and things got . . . awkward. Not while around his family pretending to be married. If she kept her belief he was in love with her best friend, there would be an extra barrier of defense between them. Of course, his own sacrifice was greater than he’d imagined. He’d lose a close friend who meant the world to him, and he may even hurt Alexa in the process.
His choice lay before him. He thought of not being able to hold Lily or to have her call him Uncle. And then he thought of Venezia and her hysterics and grief, her desire to start her own life. His responsibility lay with taking care of his family at all costs. He’d learned that lesson young, and he never intended to forget it. No, in a way, there really was no other choice.
Michael forced himself to utter the lie Maggie needed to hear. “I love Alexa as a friend. But I will agree to your terms if you will do this for me.”
She flinched, but her gaze remained steady as she nodded her acceptance. A strange flash of anguish lit her eyes, then vanished. His instincts told him her trust had been betrayed in an irreversible way no man had ever been able to fix. An old lover? An ex-fiancé? Fascinated, he longed to dig deeper, but she was back to her controlled self. “Fine. Give me your vow you’ll stay away from her when we return. No exceptions.”
“How do you suggest I neatly disappear without hurting her feelings?”
She shrugged. “We’ll be in Italy for the week, and then you’ll be busy. Pretend you’re dating someone new and caught up with her. After a while, Alexa will stop asking questions.”
He disagreed, but figured Maggie would help take care of that part. A sliver of grief pierced through him before he said the words aloud. “I accept your conditions.” Then he took a step forward. “Now, I will tell you mine.”
He enjoyed the slight widening of her eyes as he loomed over her. Awareness jumped between them. She refused to cower, though, and held her ground. “Wait. How do I know you won’t break your promise?”
He reached out and gripped her chin. Her question attacked the core of who he was, and an icy chill threaded through his tone. “Because I do not break my promises. Capisce?”
She nodded. “Yes.”
He released her chin, but not before sneaking a casual touch by running his finger down her cheek. Soft, silky skin tempted him to continue the caress. He cleared his throat and got back to the topic. “The rules are simple. I’ll call my mother tonight to break the news, but it will seem suspicious unless I’m prepared. I’ll need to agree to get married in Italy.”
“What? Hell, no. I’m not going to really marry you!”
He waved off her shocked protest. “Of course, we’re not really going to marry. But we need to pretend. Mama is quite sharp and will remain suspicious if we don’t seem willing to recite our marriage vows in front of her and a priest. I’ll tell her we legally married in the States, but will apply for a license in Italy so she can take part in a second wedding.”
“What happens when the priest shows up ready to marry us?”
Michael’s lips quirked at her sudden panic. “It takes a long time for a priest to agree to marry a couple when he does not know the bride, especially if she isn’t Catholic. It will never happen within our short visit. I’ll tell Mama we’re staying for two weeks, but we’ll leave after one and cite an emergency.”
She relaxed, back to her confident, sarcastic self. “You didn’t tell me why you suddenly need a wife. Can’t find your true Juliet, Romeo?”
Michael gave her a brief rundown on his family’s background and his sister’s desire to marry. He prepared himself for her ridicule of such an old-fashioned culture, but she nodded as if she completely understood—and managed to keep him off balance.
“I admire your mother,” she finally said. “It’s hard to keep your beliefs when others mock you. At least your family believes in something. Tradition. Promises kept. Responsibility.” Fascinated by her words, Michael watched the emotion flicker across her face before she shook off the memories. “I just hope your plan works the way you want it to.”
“What do you mean?”
Her elegant shoulders lifted. “Your family may not like me. I photograph underwear models for a living. And I’m not pretending to defer to you, either, so don’t get your hopes up.”
He grinned. “Didn’t I tell you wives obey in every way? Part of the bargain revolves around you treating me like royalty. You’ll cook my supper, serve my needs, and defer to my wishes. Don’t worry—it’s only for a week.”
Her sheer horror ruined his ruse. He chuckled, and her fist fell back to her side. He had a feeling he’d just missed a black eye. Did she bring all that fiery emotion to the bedroom? And if so, was there anything left of her men in the morning other than a brainless smile and a desire for more?
Her lips quirked. “Funny. Nice to see you have a sense of humor, Count. It’ll make the week go faster.”
“Glad you approve. I’ll make the arrangements and we’ll leave tomorrow evening. I’ll give you the rundown on my family during the trip, and you can tell me the important things about yours.”
She nodded and eased her way to the door. Her obvious discomfort at their close proximity soothed him. At least he wasn’t the only one experiencing sexual chemistry. She seemed dedicated to not being attracted to him, which made it easier to ignore the physical connection and get through the week.
Maggie Ryan may be an explosive woman, but he could handle seven days.
No problema.
Chapter Three
Maggie glanced at her fake husband and tried hard not to panic.
The familiar shortening of breath and hammering heart alerted her to trouble. She swallowed, hid her face behind Italian Vogue, and prayed she’d keep it together. She hated the idea of anyone knowing about such a weakness, especially Michael. The whole crazy plan hit her full force as soon as his private plane shot into the air. Her finger itched with the snug band of platinum gold, and the two-carat round diamond sparkled like icicles catching the glint of the sun. The ruse seemed doable in Alexa’s house. A day later, though, with a ring, fake husband, and family to con, she realized she was a complete idiot.