The Marriage Mistake

Chapter Eleven

He’d left the blinds open.

The weak light of morning pierced through and reminded him the night was officially over. He glanced over at the woman beside him. She slept deeply, her cute little snores confirming her exhaustion. What the hell was he going to do?

Leave her a note? Bring her coffee? Discuss the night? Remain silent? The endless options stretched before him and as a man, he was already guaranteed to pick the wrong one.

Her rich hair spread out on the pillow like a dark angel, and he spotted the telltale signs of stubble burn over her cheeks and neck. Her lips looked puffy and bruised. A sliver of guilt pierced through him. Had he used her too hard and too well? He never thought of her as a virgin. Every motion confirmed her open, raw sexuality. She was a wet dream come true—a purist with the body and soul of a seductress. In bed she exhibited a naked truth that confirmed she gave all of herself. Just like in her life.

Such a priceless, rare gift. One he wasn’t worthy of. One he’d never ask her to give to him again.

An empty grief roared through him but he refused to examine the emotion. Maybe he’d shower, get dressed, and bring her coffee. He’d confirm how much she meant to him; how much the endless hours of making love changed him forever. Then explain once again why they needed to end it.

Unless . . .

The possibility swarmed before him. What if they continued the relationship? Carina in his bed. Taking her to dinner. Seducing her out of that proper business suit. Working side by side. Maybe it could work. Maybe . . .

Michael Conte and his family inspired him to make the most out of himself. When his father walked, Max needed to build something he could count on. His word. His honor. His trust. This meant everything to him, and defined who he was as a man. If Michael discovered he’d slept with Carina, he may never get that trust back, and it could break him.

He’d never let that happen.

And what could he possibly offer? He didn’t have the emotional capacity to give her what she deserved. One day she’d ask for a ring. Children. A life of permanent commitment. All he could give was the moment—good sex, companionship, respect. Eventually, she’d tire of his crap and move on. Even worse, what if he did something to hurt her? He made the vow long ago to never use any actions to hurt a woman’s heart. It was too damn delicate, and he didn’t want the responsibility.

She was extraordinary in every aspect, and completely beyond him.

Decision made, he slid out of bed and headed toward the bathroom.

The knock on the door surprised him. Max strained his ears, but another light tapping echoed in the room. Damn, it wasn’t even 6 a.m. Not wanting to wake Carina, he put on boxers and opened the door.

He couldn’t believe his eyes.

Mama Conte stood in the doorway.

“Maximus?” Her confused expression registered in slow motion. As if trapped in a disaster movie, the rest of the events rolled slowly in time and had a strange surreal quality. Carina’s mother squinted at the number on the door and back at the piece of paper she clutched in her hand. “I knew you were in Vegas also, but this is Carina’s room.”

Max ignored his rapidly beating heart and gave her a big hug. “Mama Conte, what a pleasant surprise. Nope, this is my room, but let me get dressed and I’ll meet you right outside and show you where Carina is.”

He almost won.

She threw back her head and cackled. “Silly man, your underwear doesn’t offend me.” She neatly sidestepped him and took a few steps into the room. Removed her cardigan. “Used to run bare-butt naked in my house the whole summer.” Walked over to lay her sweater on the back of the couch. “Go ahead and change.”

She tripped over a high-heeled shoe. Stared at the zigzag trail of clothing. Ventured farther into the suite toward the open French doors of the bedroom.

His gaze followed hers. A pair of lacy garters. A scrap of thong. His dress shirt.

He opened his mouth to stop her but she stopped right before the bedroom. The low snore grew louder and turned into a rough grunt. A tumble of dark curls contrasted with the stark white of the sheet. Slowly, Mama Conte walked over to the bed and stared at her daughter.

Naked.

Suddenly, the film went into crazy action and he snapped. He jumped in front of the bed and put out his hands to ward off a batty mommy attack. “Oh, Dio mio, Mama Conte, it’s not what you think. Well, it’s what you think, but you weren’t supposed to see it. Oh, Dio, I am sorry, so sorry.” His babbling grew until he realized he’d just reverted back to his youth.

Dark eyes flew to his face, trying to make sense of the scene. Moments passed. Finally, she nodded as if she’d made her decision. “Bring me to your room, Maximus. Now. We need to talk.” She walked to the door. “You have one minute to change and get out here. And don’t wake up Carina.”

The door shut behind her.

Max tunneled his fingers through his hair and settled into hell.

Sweat broke out over his skin. His mama’s best friend and his secondary caregiver sat before him, deep in thought. She hadn’t spoken since they arrived in his room. Just directed him to the chair and let him stew in his own perspiration for the next ten minutes. Having raised four children and buried a husband, her slight figure was lean but strong. With her own talent and hard work, she’d built La Dolce Famiglia from a home-based pastry shop into one of the biggest chains in Italy. Her gray hair was twisted into a bun at the back of her head and showed off both the grace and carved lines in her face. Her cane leaned against the wall. She wore orthopedic shoes now, with thick laces and soles to help her walk.

Yet he’d never been so fucking scared of a little old lady in his whole life.

“How long has this been going on?”

His voice almost shook but he stumbled through. “Just one night. We hoped no one would ever know about it. We never wanted to hurt anyone.”

“Hmm.” Her brows knit together. “Did you plan for this to happen?”

“No! No, we both knew a relationship wouldn’t be good for one another. There was an attraction, of course, but I thought we had it under control. Carina lost her temper at me and Sawyer Wells started to go after her and—”

“Sawyer Wells is here?”

He nodded. “Yes, he runs the Venetian now.”

“Hmm. Go on.”

“Well, Sawyer and I got in a fight over Carina, and then things got out of hand, and I’m so sorry. I will do anything you ask to make this right.”

She reached out and patted his hand. A slight smile curved her thin lips. “Yes, Maximus, I know. You were always a good boy. A little wild, but a good heart. Michael will be upset, but we will make him understand.”

“He’ll kill me,” Max groaned.

“Nonsense, I won’t let him kill you. Arrangements have to be made fast, though. Too late to fly your mama here, but you’ll do what Michael did. Have a nice garden wedding in Bergamo later on this year.”

His inner alarm ratcheted up.

“I’ll call home and explain you wanted to elope. The opportunity Vegas affords is priceless. Why, people do weddings here all the time and very nice ones, don’t you agree?”

Wedding?

“By this afternoon, you can fill out the paperwork and pick the chapel. I have to fly to New York tomorrow anyway. Michael was quite annoyed I insisted on stopping in Vegas before going to New York, but I’ve always wanted to see such a city. Do you know if that singer Celine Dion is in town?”

Max stared at her. What wedding? Why were they talking about Celine Dion? If he’d stuck with the plan, he would’ve taken Carina to the damn concert, dropped her off at the room, and they never would be in this mess. But the thought of never touching her skin or making her come seemed overwhelming.

“You are doing the right thing. The moral thing. It will all work out.”

The full implication of Mama Conte’s words slammed through him. The room tilted. Spun. Steadied.

She expected him to marry Carina.

His breath caught him in a choke hold. “Wait a minute. I think there’s been a misunderstanding.” Mama Conte tilted her head to the side. “Yes, we spent the night together, but this isn’t Italy. In America, sometimes these things happen, and the relationship isn’t pursued.” He laughed. The sound seemed half crazed, like a manic supervillain. “Of course, we’ll remain friends and close, but we can’t marry each other.”

Carina’s mother stiffened. Ice drizzled over her features and stopped his heart. “Why not, Maximus?”

Shit, shit, shit, shit . . .

“Because I’m not good enough for Carina! I work crazy hours, I’m unstable, and she needs to find herself. She’d feel trapped with me, I’m sure, and she needs a man who wants to settle down and take care of her and have babies. Someone better suited. Someone not me.”

An eerie silence settled over the room. Panic clawed at his gut. There was no way he could marry Carina. He’d ruin her life and break her heart. He didn’t do long term. He didn’t do commitment.

Mama Conte reached over, took his hand, and squeezed. Her delicate fingers gripped him with urgency. “You are wrong. You are perfect for Carina, and always were. Your actions last night only fast-forwarded what was meant to be from the beginning.” The older woman smiled. “Now, no more nonsense. You are part of the family and always have been. No silly talk about ruining her. It is time you settle down with a woman who can be what you need, who is your match.”

“But—”

“Will you disappoint your mother because you are suddenly afraid?” Her steely tone cut through the fog and to the heart of the problem. His mama would never hold her head up again if news got out he slept with Carina and didn’t marry her. It would ruin her reputation and everything they worked so hard to build. A sense of trust, and honor, and home. He’d be doing exactly what his father did. Abandoning his responsibility. Humiliating his mother all over again in the small town that had finally forgiven her. Yes, no one married just because they had sex, but once everyone found out what happened, a major fallout would occur. He’d drag his family and Carina down into the pits. She’d never feel free to go home again. And he’d never be able to look his mama straight in the eye.

The only option crystallized like spun glass. Marriage. He needed to marry Carina. It was the only way to make things right. His honor demanded it, and it was all he had left.

A strange calm settled over him. He’d tasted her forbidden fruit and now needed to claim her permanently. She was going to be his wife, and there was nothing left to do.

By stepping up, he’d finally become a permanent part of the family he always loved. But at what price? What type of husband could he possibly make for Carina? He’d never be worthy, but could he be enough to prove he’d never be like his father?

He had to be.

Grateful that he wasn’t experiencing a breakdown, he nodded and made his choice. “Yes. But let me do this my way. Carina will refuse to marry me if she thinks we’re bullying her into it. You know how stubborn she is.”

“You are right. Go in and ask her. Make her happy. That is all that matters.”

Her words shook him to the core. Flutters of panic tickled his nerve endings. “What if I can’t?”

She reached out and cupped both of his cheeks between her weathered hands. Dark eyes held a knowledge and peace he clung to. “Do you think I would let Carina marry anyone not worthy of her? You need to trust yourself more, Maximus. Trust you are enough and nothing like the man who left you. I’ve watched you grow up, and I’m proud of you. Of your choices and the way you took care of your mother.” She pinched one cheek like he was a toddler. “Be the man and husband I know you can, my sweet boy. Take this gift.”

He shuddered and fought for composure. Any words of protest died in his throat.

“Now, I’ll go downstairs and get some breakfast. Come get me when you are ready.”

He watched the older woman leave and dragged in a lungful of air. Waited a beat. Then went to wake up his future wife.

Carina heard the voice in the background, but she was pleasantly buzzed and relaxed with the endorphins of hours of fabulous sex. She moaned into the plump pillow and stretched. Max’s voice grew louder, so she finally rolled over.

“Morning.”

His voice was deep, sexy, and matched his morning-after look. Tousled hair fell in disarray over his forehead. Shocking blue eyes gleamed with a mix of emotions she couldn’t place, so instead she tugged him forward and kissed those carved lips. His rough stubble contrasted deliciously with her sensitive skin. It took him a moment of hesitation, as if he wasn’t sure how to respond. Then he dove full force.

He pressed her back into the mattress and kissed her like a proper lover. Deep thrusts of his tongue and full-body contact. He tasted of hot male arousal and a hint of her essence, from the endless hours of lovemaking. Finally, he pulled away and smiled down at her.

“Your greeting was better.”

She laughed and stroked his cheek. “I agree. Where’s my coffee?”

“Coming. I got distracted. Wanted to ask you something first.”

“No worries.” Her heart fell apart but she knew what was coming. And desperately wanted to do it first. “We’ll sip coffee, get dressed, and never mention last night. I don’t want you to worry, Max. This is what I wanted, and I can handle it.” She forced a half laugh. “Feels nice to be the jaded American woman for a change. Using a male for her physical pleasure and tossing him aside. Another fantasy checked off my list.”

Oddly, she didn’t spot any relief in his eyes. Instead, he pulled back and sat on the edge of the mattress. Examined her bare leg and refused to meet her gaze. “The rules have changed, Carina. At least for me.”

Confusion swamped her. She sat up and pushed her tangled mane of hair from her face. “What are you talking about?”

He cleared his throat. Looked up. “I want you to marry me.”

She blinked. “Are you nuts?”

His hand shook as he rubbed his forehead. Was he nervous? Had he gone off some deep end because he screwed his best friend’s little sister? “Only you would ask such a question after a marriage proposal. No, I’m perfectly sane. I don’t want to pretend nothing happened between us. We’re in Vegas. We’re meant to be together. Let’s get married.”

She’d dreamed most of her life of such words coming from this man’s lips. Wasn’t it every woman’s fantasy to hear a man propose after a night of endless pleasure? The perfect ending to every romantic comedy and romance novel. So, why wasn’t she launching herself into his arms screaming “yes”?

Because her instincts warned something was off. Why the sudden turnaround? How could he have gone from no commitment to marriage in less than twenty-four hours? She ignored her babbling younger self who whispered she didn’t care, and listened instead to the older, wiser Carina. “Umm, I’m flattered, truly. But if you’re so intent on not hiding our relationship, why don’t we just date?”

He shook his head. Hard. “I don’t want to date.” His aura pulsed with male power and domination, urging her to submit. Damn, his controlling tendencies turned her on. Who would’ve thought? “I’ve waited my whole life to be sure, and I don’t want to wait any longer. You always said you had feelings for me. Let’s do this. Let’s get married and start a life together.”

Let’s do this?

She swallowed and tried to speak past her pounding heart. “Why the sudden change? We had rules in place. One night and move on. You said you didn’t want to settle down. You cited the age difference, Michael, my family, your wanderlust. What’s going on, Max?”

In seconds, he loomed over her and took her mouth. Holding her head, he claimed her lips and plundered every corner, until she hung on and dug her nails into his shoulders. She shuddered in pure lust and softened beneath him. He broke contact and gazed deep into her eyes. Raw command glimmered and tempted. “I changed my mind. I want you, all the way, all the time. Don’t make me beg. Just tell me you’ll marry me.”

She opened her mouth to say yes. Why not? She’d spent the most incredible night of her life with a man she’d always longed for. They were in Vegas where crazy things happened and impromptu weddings were the norm. Maybe he’d discovered in the hours of the night he loved her? After all, wasn’t that the only reason he’d want to marry her?

Unless . . .

Her gut twisted with a knowledge she didn’t want to probe. But this was the new Carina, and she wasn’t stupid enough to just believe Max Gray suddenly got bit by the love bug enough to give up his freedom.

She pushed him away and sat up. Studied him with hard eyes. Determination carved out the lines of his face like he faced a business deal he needed to close. Carina followed her instincts and tested him.

“Thank you for the offer, Max, but I like things the way they are. Let’s just see where this leads. No need to rush into marriage after one crazy night.”

A flare of panic gleamed in those baby blues. His jaw clenched. “Are you listening to me? I’m asking you to marry me! I’m saying you’re The One, and I want to do this right now, today. Let’s get crazy and say our vows in Vegas. We were always meant to be together and I’ve finally realized it.”

He bent forward and she knew he’d seduce her. Wring the yes from her lips and her heart before she had time to seriously wonder what was going on. For her own survival, she scrambled back on the bed and put her arms out in an effort to ward him off.

“Why now?”

He lifted his hands in surrender. “Why not now? Last night proved you were The One.”

A cold ball of misery fisted in her gut. He lied. His muscles tensed as if preparing for a boxing round. A wall of distance sprung up around him. Completely contradictory to the relaxed languor of a man with the woman he loves, he began pacing, another sign of nervousness.

What was she missing? This wasn’t just about guilt. This was sheer panic, as if trapped into . . .

Trapped.

Carina swallowed past the lump in her throat. “Who found out?”

He froze. Pushed his fingers through his hair. Paced some more. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. I just asked you to marry me and I’m being questioned like a prisoner of war. Excuse me if I’m a bit confused.”

“Michael? Did he call the hotel?”

“No. Listen, I don’t want to go back home and date. I want to make this a permanent relationship. Live with you, sleep with you, work with you. This is the right thing to do, baby.”

The right thing to do.

She wrapped the sheet firmly around her naked breasts and fought for sanity. Her fingers shook but she managed to force the words out. “Tell me the truth, Max. Right now, or I swear to God, I will completely lose it. You owe me that.”

He turned away from her, but the muscles in his bare back turned rigid. A vicious curse escaped his lips, and finally, he faced her. “Your mother is here. She came into the room this morning and found us.”

Carina gasped and shook her head. “Dio, no. What is she doing here? How did she even know where to find us?”

“She wanted to stop and see you before flying to your brother’s house. Michael gave her the room number.”

Her brain turned numb with the awful possibilities. No wonder he’d proposed. If her mother pushed him to be honorable, Max buckled immediately under the guise of honor. Rage and humiliation twisted in her gut. She couldn’t even have a decent one-night stand properly. What other woman engaged in raw, dirty sex and had to face her mother’s wrath the next morning? Her skin turned clammy with nerves, and she wished desperately for clothes and solitude. Instead, she made herself speak. “Now I understand.” Her laugh rang hollow through the silent room. “Nothing like an overprotective mama to spur on a proposal. Don’t worry, I’ll take care of it. Where is she?”

“At breakfast.”

“I’ll go down and speak with her. Clear up the whole mess. Can you give me a few minutes to get dressed, please?”

He walked over and knelt beside the bed. Her heart wobbled between pure emotion and betrayal at his stony expression. How easily he tried to woo her with false endearments that meant nothing. Did he really believe she was so stupid to jump into marriage out of gratitude? Did he still think so little of her?

“We have to get married, Carina.”

Her eyes widened. “Hell, no. We don’t have to get married. I’m in America now, and just because we had sex doesn’t mean we have to make it legal. I don’t even want to marry you!”

Max jerked back but remained intractable. “Your mother will not accept anything less. Your family is going to find out and it will ruin your reputation.”

“Good, my reputation needed a bit of color.”

“This isn’t funny. My mother will also know, and it will break her heart.”

A rage of emotions shook her body. Damn him. Carina squeezed her eyes shut and prayed she’d wake up out of the nightmare. “She’ll get over it. We’ll make them understand. It will not affect our lives back in Bergamo or here.”

“I can’t do that to her. I can’t let her believe I turned my back on everything I value. We have no other choice.”

Her eyes flew back open. “Hell, yes, we have another choice. I need you to go, Max. Please. Let me go see my mother, and I promise I’ll clear the whole thing up. Okay?”

He studied her in the morning light and slowly nodded. With graceful movements, he moved away from the bed. His last words drifted to her ear in warning.

“Go see her. But I already know it will not make a difference.”

The adjoining door shut. Fighting raw panic, Carina jumped from the bed and flung some clothes on. Her sore muscles screamed in agony as she pulled on a pair of jeans, donned a black tank top, and twisted her hair in a knot. Shoving a pair of flip-flops on her feet, she brushed her teeth and headed down to the buffet.

The elegant dining room held wide archways and soaring open windows. She walked through the main floor as the endless tables boasted steaming platters of breakfast and lunch foods to satisfy any appetite or fancy. Chefs with white hats nodded to her as she walked past and searched for her mother. Finally, her gaze snagged on an elderly woman alone on the balcony, with three plates of food in front of her. The heavily carved walking cane lay beside the table.

Her heart tugged at the familiar face she had counted on her entire life. Mama Conte beamed up at her and pulled her down for a kiss. She smelled of sweet maple syrup and cinnamon toast. “My dearest Carina, I have never seen such food in my life. Or such a fake, beautiful Grand Canal.”

“Hello, Mama.” She took the seat across from her. “What are you doing here?”

“I wanted to stop and see you before flying to Michael’s house. Also wanted to see this famous Vegas. Who would’ve known such glamour existed in the heart of the desert, no?”

“Yes. Hopefully I’ll get to show you around. But I have some exciting news for you first.”

“Yes?”

“Max and I are getting married.”

Carina handed it to her mama. The woman was a practiced poker player. Her face lit up and she clapped her hands together in pretend joy. “No! I did not realize you and Max were seeing each other. I am so happy, my dear. Wait till I tell your sisters.”

“Should we wait to marry in Italy or get married here?”

“Oh, definitely here. Look at this place—it is a perfect place for a wedding!”

“Mama, stop it.”

The older woman never flinched. Just stared at her with those steady dark eyes without a shred of remorse. “Stop what?”

“I know what happened, Mama. You found out Max and I slept together and you forced Max to ask me to marry him. How could you? How could you force a man to take me on like some kind of responsibility?”

Mama Conte sighed and pushed away her plate. She took her time and sipped at the strong espresso. “I did not mean to deceive you, Carina. I thought it would be more romantic if Max asked you without you believing it had anything to do with me.”

She gasped. “It has everything to do with you. Let me try to explain. Max and I spent the night together, but we don’t want a long-term relationship. We’re not right for one another. By threatening him with honor, you’re forcing him to make a choice he does not want. We can work this out. If you keep the whole thing to yourself, no one ever has to know. No one will get hurt.”

The woman who raised four children and built an empire narrowed her gaze and leaned in. Carina trembled under her dictating stare. “You do not understand. You slept with Max. I have not raised you or Maximus to run away from your responsibilities. Just because you come to America does not mean you lose your values. This must be made right.”

Carina’s heart beat so loud the sound roared in her ears. She breathed deeply and tried to treat it as a business deal she had to win at any cost. Unfortunately, her mother was the strongest opposition she’d ever faced. “Mama, I never meant to hurt you, but this is my life now. I cannot marry Max. You must understand that.”

“Why?”

“Because! Because we don’t care for each other like that. Because when two people have sex it doesn’t necessarily mean a lifetime commitment.”

Mama Conte nodded and crossed her arms in front of her. Her voice turned cold. “I see. Then you must answer me one question. If you are willing to hurt me and mock everything I did to raise you, every ethic and moral Papa and I believed in, you must promise to tell me the truth when I ask you this.”

Shame flooded her. Carina clenched her fingers and nodded. “I promise. Ask me.”

“Look me in the eye, Carina Conte, and tell me you honestly do not love Max.”

The breath whooshed out of her body like she’d been clubbed. Carina stared at her mother with a combination of horror and relief. Just say the words. Tell her very simply she did not love Max and she’d be off the hook. Sure, there’s be guilt, and her mother would be disappointed, but there would be no forced marriage. No false relationship or phony vows of affection they both didn’t feel.

I. Don’t. Love. Max.

She opened her mouth.

The years of growing up under her mother’s care flashed before her. After Papa died, her world collapsed on its foundation and it was hard to find her footing. Michael helped. But her mother was the rock that held it all together. An iron fist and a heart that beat pure gold, she stood beside her every night while she cried and told her stories of Papa, never afraid to talk about the man who was her lifetime love. She moved through her grief with honesty and a courage Carina swore she’d duplicate in honor of her mother.

As the words formed on her tongue, her heart screamed her a liar, and for a moment, she reached a turning point.

Her mother waited. Trusting she’d tell the truth. Trusting her to be real with herself and never act the coward.

She still loved Max.

The realization slammed her back. Grief and hopelessness flooded her body like a tsunami hell-bent on destruction.

Her voice broke. “I can’t.”

Her mother reached over and took her hand and squeezed it. “I know. You have always loved him. Knowing this, I must enforce this marriage, and you must try and find your way. Max has deep feelings for you, my sweet Carina. I will not allow him to deny himself or your chance. If you do not agree to this, I will call Max’s mother. I will tell Michael everything, and you will do more damage than you can ever know. Because you will break my heart.”

Her throat tightened and suddenly, she was completely drained. The fight slid from her muscles and she slumped on the chair. Like a child, she wanted to cry and crawl into her mother’s lap for comfort. But she was grown now, and had to face her own consequences and decisions.

There was no longer a choice.

She had to marry Max.

But she didn’t have to like it.

Carina knocked on his door.

Her weak heart exploded with lust and something deeper when he answered and stepped aside. Thank God he’d put on some clothes, but barely. The blue sweat shorts hung low and showed his washboard stomach. The matching T-shirt seemed old as dirt, and the worn fabric clung to his shoulders and chest like a lover.

She fought the impulse to lean in and drag in a breath of his scent—a mixture of soap, coffee, and a hint of musk. He’d showered and his hair was damp and neatly tamed back from his forehead.

“Well?” One bare foot was propped up on the other while he faced her.

“You were right. She wants us to get married.”

Carina waited for a vicious curse. A full-fledged panic attack. Anything to give her an excuse to break her mother’s heart and take the punishment. Instead, he nodded as if he already knew. “I figured. You want coffee?” He gestured toward the table set from room service. Silver domes lifted to reveal scrambled eggs and toast, and a full pot of coffee sat beside a vase with a single long-stemmed rose.

Her temper exploded. “No, I don’t want any goddamn coffee! And I don’t want a husband who doesn’t want me, either. Do you really want to do this? Do you want to be trapped in a permanent relationship you didn’t even choose?”

He lifted his cup and studied her. His face reminded her of a mask, completely devoid of any emotion. “Yes.”

“Why?”

He sipped the steaming brew. “Because it’s the right thing to do.”

Fury broke loose within and unleashed. “Fuck you, Max. I’ll marry you, but I won’t be your little puppet. Just remember I never asked for this. I don’t need your pity, or good intentions. I had my one perfect night and I don’t need another.”

She slammed the door behind her.

The day passed in a blur.

The La Capella chapel was a Tuscan-inspired space that fit perfectly. The rich earth tones, highly polished marble floors, and mahogany pews reminded her of home. Carina donned the simple white floor-length Vera Wang dress with numb fingers. Her mother fussed over her hair as if it were a real wedding, twisting the unruly strands into shiny fat curls. When she placed the pearl-crusted veil on her head and covered her face with the white film, no one saw the tears that sprung to her eyes.

She always imagined her giggling sisters around her and walking down the aisle to a man who loved her. Instead, she paused in the doorway and finally understood how her sister-in-law felt trying to conquer her panic attacks. Her stomach lurched, and perspiration broke out on her skin, making her itch.

Cheesy organ music drifted in the air, and Carina took a step back in her Ciccotti shoes, which had four-inch heels, real diamonds, and urged her to run. Hell, she’d be the runaway bride. Find a FedEx truck and hitch it out on a grand adventure. Change her name, go under deep cover and—

Her gaze slammed into his.

His whole aura screamed control. Piercing ocean blue eyes held hers and gave her the strength needed to drag in a breath. Another one. Her mother linked her arm firmly within hers, lifted her cane, and began the long walk down the aisle.

Never breaking his stare, he willed her to complete the walk until she stood before him at the altar. He was male perfection. Dressed in a crisp black tuxedo, with red accents and a rose in his lapel, he exhibited a lean grace and elegance.

He recited his vows in a voice that never shook. The seriousness of the moment conflicted with the impulse of her decision. Somehow, it didn’t seem real until she said the words. Her tongue stuck on the answer. Could she really do this? Marry a man who didn’t love her? The questions whirled and wreaked havoc with her head. A halting silence rushed over the chapel. Her mother tilted her head and waited. The blood roared in her ears, and she swayed on her feet.

Slight pressure from his fingers tapped her back. Slowly, he nodded. Encouraging her to say the words. Demanding she take the leap.

“I do.”

He slid the three-carat crown-of-light diamond onto her finger.

Claimed.

His lips were warm but his kiss was chaste. A formal ending to a ceremony that would change them forever.

Sawyer gave them a private dining room. A popular band played old Italian favorites, and they feasted on pasta, wine, and various appetizers. The cake was personally created by the Venetian’s pastry chef in honor of the wedding.

The next few hours unfolded for her as if she was outside herself. She smiled when necessary. Made calls to Max’s mother and her family to break the news. She forced squeals of happiness with her sisters, and painted a scene of their secret courtship that made her choke. All the while, Max never touched her. He barely glanced at her as they performed the mandatory dance. She guzzled champagne in an effort to forget until they finally made it to their room.

The king-size bed mocked her. Their lovemaking still clung in the air, or maybe it was just her imagination. He stood in front of her, dressed in his impeccable tuxedo, all his gorgeousness and grace so close yet galaxies away. Her body caved and melted under the sudden heat of his stare. “It is our honeymoon night.”

She imagined him stripping off her wedding dress and panties. Parting her thighs. Dipping his head to suck and lick until he finally pushed deep inside and made her forget everything except the way he made her feel.

She grabbed the bottle of champagne chilling in the holder and a glass. Kicked off her shoes. And smiled mockingly.

“Here’s to us, Maxie. Good night.”

In a fit of temper, she saluted and sauntered away with the champagne. Closed the door and locked it. Slumped against the wall in her wedding dress.

And cried.