The Marriage Trap

Chapter Ten

Maggie lay on the bed and stared up at the ceiling. Her decision was final.

She was getting the hell out of Dodge.

Ever since she stepped foot in the Conte household, she’d lost her balance. She had gotten sucked into family dramas and in a weird way, she’d started to care. That was a no-no. She needed to be able to distance herself from Michael and get used to the knowledge that he wouldn’t be around any longer. He would not be hanging around Alexa. She didn’t care how he tried to get out of that bargain, she’d make sure he stuck to his word. Anyway, the last thing she needed was to moon over some guy who wanted different things than she.

Didn’t he?

Her thoughts whirled and she rolled to her side and groaned. Why was she beginning to doubt herself? Her initial decision to sleep with him and wring him out of her system backfired. One night and she already cared way too much. What if she got attached? What if she got some ridiculous ideas about love and permanence? Sure, he’d give her multiple orgasms and physically she’d be satisfied. But what about her heart? Could her heart handle such a blow?

Nope. Call her a coward, but when Michael returned, she’d be getting on the next plane back home. She’d say her mother got sick. Or come up with a death in the family—some long-lost uncle. Anything to get her far, far away.

A knock sounded on the door. She sat up in immediate dread. “Who is it?”

“Carina. Can I come in?”

“Sure.”

The younger girl bounced in and sat next to her on the bed. Maggie smiled at the happy look on her face. For a little while, she had bucked her moodiness and seemed lighthearted. Her makeup was applied with a more subtle hand, and her clothes showed off a bit of her figure, unlike the baggy jeans and T-shirts the girl usually sported. At least Maggie had helped Carina in some way. One item she managed not to screw up.

“How was your evening out?” Maggie asked. “And before you answer, it better be good. I dealt with your cousins last night and I’m still recovering.”

Carina laughed and crossed her legs. Her eyes lit with excitement. “Maggie, it was so awesome. I loooooved Sierra; she was supercool. And gorgeous. And the guys were really nice and polite. It was a big group so I never felt uncomfortable and guess what? They said I’d make a great model!”

Maggie smiled. “You would, but I don’t know if that’s something you’d want to pursue, Carina. Personally, I think you’d do better off with a college education and your art. You’re talented.”

A blush tinted her cheeks. “Thanks. Yeah, Michael and Mama would probably freak. But it was cool they actually thought I’d be good enough to model. They invited me to their next shoot, and now I have their cell numbers and we’re texting back and forth.”

“I’m glad you made some new friends.”

“Me, too. Can I ask for a favor?”

“As long as it doesn’t entail babysitting.”

“Can I borrow one of your scarves? Do you have anything ice blue? I want to try on a new outfit and I need a nice accessory.” She wrinkled her nose. “Venezia throws a fit when I borrow from her, and Julietta only owns business clothes.”

“Sure. I brought some extra in my travel bag. It’s in the closet—help yourself.”

Carina chattered about the details of her night, and Maggie leaned back on the headboard, relaxing under the ritual of clothes borrowing and girl talk. Carina oohed and aahed over a bunch of her scarves, took two, then paused. “What’s this?”

Maggie looked up. Her heart stopped.

Carina held a small fabric-covered book with a bright purple cover. The girl stared at it curiously, then flipped it open.

“No!” Maggie scrambled to the side in an effort to grab it.

“What’s the matter? Is this a love spell? Oh, my God, it is. How cool.”

Oh. My. God.

The memory of her drunken night slammed into her brain and gave her an instant headache. Yes, she’d supported Alexa when her friend had cast the spell for a man. Yes, Alexa ended up marrying Maggie’s brother, and they were happy. But there was no way it had to do with the spell. In fact, Nick was the complete opposite of everything Alexa had originally asked for, but when she pointed that out, Alexa just laughed and said Earth Mother had been right all along.

Alexa forced her to take the book of spells and use it. Maggie had refused at first, but eventually threw it in her bag and forgot about it.

Until that night. When she realized she might never find the right man to marry, never have children, and be alone for the rest of her life. Then she drank too many margaritas, watched a sappy movie, and dug out that violet book. Then proceeded to make a fire in her living room and create the dreaded list.

The qualities she demanded made her squeeze her eyes closed to shut out the memory. Stupid and juvenile. Of course, love spells didn’t work, but slipping the paper under the bed seemed like the least she could do after making a frickin’ fire and burning the list. She’d never told Alexa, one of the first things she had ever hidden from her best friend. Better to keep the secret in case the news spread.

Anyway, there wasn’t a man in the world who contained the qualities she sought. She may as well look up hero in the dictionary and wish for Superman to appear outside her condo window.

She totally forgot she’d thrown the book in her travel case in an effort to forget what she had done. Now, the truth of her lunacy mocked her in neon violet. “Carina, it’s nothing, really, I forgot it was in there.” She laughed, but even to her own ears it sounded fake. “My girlfriend gave it to me as a joke.”

Carina skimmed the pages. “Did you do it? The love spell? Is that how you and Michael met?”

Humiliation dragged her down like the sucking tide of an undertow. “No, of course, not. It’s just a joke and I forgot to get rid of it.”

Carina’s eyes widened. “Can I have it?”

Maggie fisted her hands and stared at the book in horror. “What? No, no, it’s a silly thing. That stuff doesn’t work and your brother will kill me if he sees you with a witchcraft book.”

“Not witchcraft. This says you have to list all the qualities you want and need in a mate. Follow the spell and he comes to you.” She flipped through the pages while Maggie fought sheer panic. “Wow, it says you have to make a fire to honor Earth Mother. Oh, Maggie, please? I swear I won’t tell a soul, it’s just supercool.”

Maggie’s mouth hung open like a guppy. Why hadn’t she thrown it out when she had the chance? It was like a bad penny that kept showing up. She was going to kill Alexa for forcing her to take it. Absolutely kill her.

“Maggie? Please?”

With growing anticipation, she stared at the book, as if waiting to see if it would disappear in a cloud of smoke. No such luck. What a rotten day, beginning with a crazy cat. She closed her eyes and hoped this wasn’t going to be the biggest mistake of her life. “Okay, fine. But don’t tell anyone. You know it’s just a joke, right? Tell me you’re not thinking of taking this seriously, Carina, or I’ll throw it away now.”

Carina shook her head and held up her hand. “Promise. I just think it’s fun. When I’m done looking at it, I’ll get rid of it. Thanks, Maggie!” She bounded out of the room and shut the door behind her.

Maggie rolled over and smashed her face into the pillow.

Enough. She despised pity parties, especially her own. She’d start packing her bags, line up a plane ticket, and get out of here.

A knock sounded on the door.

She groaned into the pillow. “Go away!”

“Maggie, I’m coming in.”

Michael.

She shot up. Maybe this was for the best. Get the confrontation over with. He’d scream at her for messing up his family life, she’d tell him she was out of here, and they’d come to some type of arrangement so they can both get what they want. She smoothed her hair down and took a deep breath. “Come in.”

He entered and shut the door behind him. Her mouth dried and her stomach fluttered. His presence filled up the room and crowded out every spare inch with a masculinity that was a natural part of who he was. Maggie had a crazy vision of stripping off his clothes and surrendering to him right here. Right now.

Before she left.

She fought the impulse and remained calm. His dark eyes seared into hers as if waiting for her to speak. “I suppose you’re here to yell.”

His lip quirked. “Not this time.”

The silence pulsed with an undercurrent of danger. The sizzling sexual tension lit between them, causing her to scooch back one inch away from him. Just an inch. “Oh. Well, good, because I’m not the in the mood. I’ve had a crappy day.”

“Me, too. I’m about to change that.”

She heard a thump and realized he’d toed off his shoes. The elegant fabric of his shirt barely contained his broad chest and muscled arms. Maggie curled her fingers to curb the urge to explore each hard angle of his body. She barreled on. “Michael, we have to talk. I want to go home.”

One brow lifted but he remained silent. He slowly unraveled his navy-blue tie from the knot, slid it around his neck, and let it drop. “Why?”

Her mouth fell open. “Um, let me think about this. Because this whole trip has been a disaster. Because I’m miserable, and you’re miserable, and we’re making a mess out of your family. Because I hate lying, and I can’t spend one more day pretending to be your loving, dutiful wife. I’ll come up with an excuse. Say someone died. A long-lost cousin or uncle so I won’t feel guilty. I think we made our intentions known to be married by a priest, and I’m sure we can keep up the ruse until Venezia’s wedding.”

Michael cocked his head as if listening, then slowly slid the hair tie from his hair. The strands shimmered around his face and fell to his shoulders. The gesture made her thighs clench in agony as wet heat rushed to her center and throbbed. She itched to photograph him—a powerful, dangerous male contained in a civilized suit. God, he was beautiful.

She chattered on with a mad effort to reign in the red-hot want that speared her. “In fact, if you really want me to, I’ll come to Venezia’s wedding. I gave you my word, and I intend to keep my side of the bargain.”

She stared helplessly up at him, certain some type of game was being played but she was not a party to the rules.

A slow smile curved his lips. “Running scared, la mia tigrotta?” he drawled. “I’m disappointed. One night together and you already can’t handle it?”

She gasped. “You’re the one who can’t handle the truth, Count. I’m tired of pussyfooting around you like the rest of your family. It’s time you wake up and face the way you view your sisters and admit you love control so much you’ll do anything to keep it.”

“You are correct.” His fingers flicked open the first few buttons of his shirt.

She blinked. A swirl of black hair. Deep olive skin. Flat nipples on a mass of muscle. “Huh? What did you say?”

“I said you are correct. I spoke with my sisters and begged for their apology. I agree with everything you said today in the conference room.”

Stunned, she just stared as the buttons kept opening. A washboard stomach. An intriguing dark line that disappeared beneath the buckle of his pants. Her mouth watered and her brain fogged. He untucked the shirt from his pants so it fell completely open.

“What—what the hell are you doing?” she squeaked.

“Taking you to bed.” The shirt hit the floor. His hands worked on the belt buckle, then slid it through the loops. Then he undid his zipper.

Her gaze roved greedily over the male perfection before her. He put his hands on his hips. “Come here, Maggie.”

Her heart pounded so hard her blood strangled, then pumped madly in an effort to keep up with her hormones. “Huh?”

“Hmm, I should have done this a while ago. Who would’ve thought you’d ever be speechless?” He snagged her hand and pulled her off the bed.

Dumbstruck by the sexual electricity from the touch of his skin on hers, she allowed herself to be led so she stood before him.

“Let me be clear, la mia tigrotta. I’m taking you to bed. I’m going to strip off your clothes, bury myself deep inside you, and make you come so many times the only word from your lips will be my name, begging me to do it all over again.” He sank his fingers into her hair and tugged. Then he loomed over her, his eyes hotly promising her every decadent, lustful pleasure she could take. “Capisce?”

“I, I don’t think, I—”

His mouth stamped over hers.

Her mind may have needed a moment to recover, but her body bloomed and opened under his command. She took every silky stroke of his tongue and demanded more as she dug her nails into his shoulders and hung on. In minutes, her clothes were stripped off.

The sensual taste and smell of him flooded her nostrils. Already, her body grew wet and fiery hot, aching for him to fill her. He growled low in his throat and fit himself quickly with a condom. This time he urged her onto her hands and knees, dragged her thighs apart, and plunged.

She cried out at the delicious sensation of tightness and bucked upward for more. The deep penetration left her nowhere to hide. Maggie panted as she tried to keep something back for herself, but as if he sensed her withdrawal, he reached under and rolled the tips of her nipples between his fingers, slowing his pace. Each deliberate, easy thrust pushed her closer to the edge but didn’t give her enough to fly over. She moaned and tried to speed him up.

His warm breath rushed over her ear. “Want something?”

She shivered. “I hate you.”

He laughed low. “I love you in this position. You have the most beautiful ass.”

He circled his hips and did something that should be illegal. “Michael, please.”

“Stay.”

She tried to process his words but her body ached and every inch throbbed. “What?”

He nibbled on her ear and caressed her breasts. “Stay with me to the end of the week, mia amore. Promise me.”

Closer and closer. The orgasm was just out of reach, and she craved him like before, wanted him to pound inside of her and claim her. “Yes. I’ll stay.”

He murmured in satisfaction, grasped her hips, and gave her everything. The climax came hard and fast, and she shook in the aftermath. He shouted her name and followed, and they sank onto the pillow, Michael holding her close as if he would never let her go.

Michael stroked her naked back as she stretched into the caress. A deep satisfaction coursed through every cell in his body and reminded him once again that Maggie Ryan finally belonged to him.

Her open, carnal response blew away any other encounter he’d ever had. The warning deep within shimmered inside the locked box, but he refused to spoil the moment by worrying. Somehow, they’d work things out. After the lure of the hunt with a beautiful woman ended in bed, Michael always experienced satisfaction. What blew his mind at the moment was the fierce sense of completion that flowed through his veins. As if he had finally met his other half.

Dios, he must be loco.

Leave it to him to pick a woman who’d make his life a mess. The inner voice whispered the truth in mocking format. She’d also bring a sense of joy and zest and challenge he craved, no matter how hard he fought to settle with an easier woman. It was as if his passion on the race circuit translated to the women he longed for. Wild, untamed, contradictory, and stubborn. He remembered the adrenaline rush of handling such power, riding it around the curves and keeping the vehicle barely under control. Maggie reminded him of the same thrill. She courted the full range of his emotions that were normally locked up and reserved in a civilized manner. His past had finally caught up with him.

And he was happy.

Suddenly, Maggie shot up out of bed. Hair messily falling over one eye, bare-breasted, she gazed in horror at the closed door. “Oh, my God, your mother! Carina! I was loud, I forgot they were in the house.”

He chuckled and pulled her back into his arms. “Before I came to your room, Mama said she needed to go into town for some sort of surprise. She took Carina with her, so I knew we’d have a few hours alone.”

She let out a relieved breath. “So you had this planned all along.” She gave him a mock glare. “I figured you’d come to yell at me for getting involved with your business.”

“I planned on yelling afterward.”

Her hand snaked out and gave his penis a squeeze. He laughed and pinned her to the mattress with his thigh. On cue, he grew hard and nudged insistently against her moist center. With a mischievous glint, her hand explored, caressing the tip and sliding up and down his shaft. The woman had dangerous hands and may eventually kill him. Still, he’d die a happy man.

“What were you saying?” she purred, alternating between teasing flicks and hard pumping motions.

Michael gritted his teeth.

“Don’t play games you can’t win, la mia tigrotta,” he growled. Then took her lips in a hard, deep kiss. Her musky essence rose to his nostrils as the sweet taste of her flooded his senses.

“I’ll win this round, Count,” she whispered back. Her tongue ran over his bottom lip and she bit down in a sharp nip. The tiny pain shot straight to his cock and his skin stretched to accommodate.

“I’d show you who’s boss right now but I don’t have another condom handy.”

She guided him one tempting inch.

He paused at her entrance. His head spun like a man with his first woman.

“I’m on the pill, and I’m safe.” Her eyes glittered with a mad need that called to him.

With one push, he sank inside her.

They lay side by side, faces close, and he reveled in the intimacy of watching every expression as he moved inside of her. Her breasts filled his hand, and the berry red of her nipples tempted him to take them in his mouth and suck hard. The scent of sandalwood overtook him, and she met each thrust with an open abandon that fired his blood. He kept the pace slow and easy, not wanting to rush the extreme pleasure of her body flowering open beside him. Her channel squeezed and she gasped as she neared the pinnacle. He clawed for control and tipped his hips to hit the sweet spot, then watched her fall apart.

He swallowed his name from her lips and let himself join her. Then he realized he had called her an endearment he’d never uttered before. A term he saved for the woman who would become his wife. One he’d never used before, even at the height of orgasm.

Mia amore.

My love.

Michael swallowed past the sudden tightness of his throat and held her close.

“We have to get dressed.”

“Hm.” Michael ran a hand over her gorgeous curves, enjoying the feel of sleek muscles and silky skin. “In a minute.”

“Your mom should be home with Carina. Venezia wants to go over bridesmaid accessories tonight. And I have to help cook dinner again, damn it.”

His body shook with contained laughter, and she gave him a weak punch. “Sorry, cara, this whole week was not what either of us expected.”

Her voice was whisper soft. “No. It wasn’t.” A pause. “Michael, what happened with your sisters?”

He turned over to face her, then smoothed cinnamon strands back from her face. “You were right. About everything.” Regret loomed but he pushed past, knowing he could only make it right for the future. “I got lost in my role and made a lot of mistakes. After you left, I spoke with my sisters and apologized. I also showed them your photo of Mama and they loved it. We’re launching a new campaign based on your photograph.”

Her brow shot up. “Are you kidding? That’s wonderful.”

Michael smiled, tracing the lush outline of her mouth. He cursed her parents, who didn’t see the treasure she was and caused her to doubt her ability to love. He realized he’d reached a turning point and needed to force them both to face the truth. Their marriage ruse had veered into something more, and he believed it was too precious to throw away.

Michael grasped her chin and gently forced her to face him. “Listen to me, Maggie. This is important. In a few days, you saw things I’d never even realized. How I treated my sisters and what they really needed from me. You made four little boys feel loved and taken care of, even though it was the first time they ever met you. You respected my mother and made food in her kitchen, which is the most important thing you can ever give her. You gave my little sister a reason to believe in herself again, and believe she is beautiful. You are an amazing woman, Maggie Ryan.” He gazed deep into her eyes and told the truth. “Stay with me.”

His heart pounded as he waited. She closed her eyes, as if searching for her own answers, then opened her mouth to respond.

“Michael! Are you in there? Come quick; Mama’s sick!”

The words she was about to utter died a quick death, and Michael wondered if he’d always regret that moment of interruption. They jumped out of bed, pulled clothes on, and made their way downstairs. Carina stood outside his mother’s door. “Where is she?” he asked calmly, trying to mask his worry.

She pressed a hand to her lips and choked out the words. “Dr. Restevo is with her. We went into town and everything was fine, and then she said she felt weak and dizzy. I told her to rest because the sun was hot today, but she insisted I get the doctor.” Tears sprung to her eyes. “Maybe I should have taken her to the hospital? I didn’t know what to do, Michael.”

“Shush, you did everything right.” He gathered her in his arms for a quick hug. “Let’s wait for a few minutes and see what the doctor says. Perhaps it is nothing. Va bene?”

Carina nodded. When he released her, he noticed Maggie took her hand as if it was the most natural gesture in the world. Low murmurings drifted through the closed door, and he tamped down his urge to pace. Finally, Dr. Restevo strolled through.

“Buon giorno, Doctor. How is Mama?” Michael asked.

An odd expression crossed the older man’s face. Dressed casually in khakis, a white T-shirt, and sneakers, Michael guessed he’d been caught off guard by Carina’s call. His black bag fit the standard cliché as his family still believed in home care and door-to-door visits. He peered over his spectacles, his brown eyes concerned.

“Um, a hospital is not necessary at the moment.”

Michael waited for more, but the doctor remained silent, shifting from foot to foot. He averted his gaze. Michael curbed his impatience but Carina burst out in front of them. “What’s wrong with her? Did she have a heart attack? Why aren’t you telling us something—is it very bad?”

The doctor ran a hand past his receding hairline and coughed. “No heart attack. She needs to rest; that’s it.”

“Was it the heat? Her medication? Anything we need to do?” Michael asked.

Dr. Restevo shook his head and edged past him. “Keep her in bed today. Plenty of liquids. This happens sometimes, no need to worry.” The older man paused and suddenly clasped Michael’s shoulder in a death grip. “Remember one thing, Michael. No stress. Whatever your mother asks for, just give it to her. Capisce?”

“But—”

The doctor dropped his hand, gave Carina a quick kiss on the cheek, and studied Maggie. Eyes narrowed, he drank in her figure, as if studying for a quiz, then patted her cheek. “Congratulations on your marriage, signora bella. Welcome to the family.” Then with a little smile, he hurried out the door and left them.

“Oh, thank goodness. It was probably just the long walk and the heat,” Carina said. “I’ll go get her some water and juice.” His sister left and his knees weakened with a rush of relief. Without a word, Maggie stepped into his arms and held him close.

A deep sense of peace settled within his soul. He breathed in the sweet smell of her strawberry shampoo and allowed himself the luxury of leaning on another person. He was so used to shouldering the burden on his own, the sheer pleasure of having someone comfort him shook him to the core. Was this how it would be if Maggie was in his life permanently? She was strong enough to hold up her own end, and he’d never have to worry about keeping things from her. She’d be a true partner in every sense of the word. Michael held her until his breathing returned to normal, then gently released her.

His voice sounded ragged. “Thank you.”

She quirked a brow. “For what, Count? Not being a pain in your ass for a minute or two?”

Her cheekiness made him laugh. He reached out and rubbed a thumb over that luscious lower lip. “For being there.” She retreated behind her wall of defense, but now he knew the move well and developed the proper block. This time, he decided to give her space. “I’m going to check on her. Be right back.”

He walked into the bedroom and sat beside the bed. The familiar scent and sight of his mother’s room wrapped around him, reminding him of his youth. The same king-size bed with the heavily carved cherrywood headboard. The cheerful yellow on the walls and the spill of vivid green plants and bright red geraniums in her window box. The room led to a private balcony, and he remembered many nights cuddling on his mother’s lap while she rocked in her chair and counted the stars. Now, the powerhouse of a woman lay against the plump pillows with her eyes half-closed.

He took her hand and brought it to his lips. “Mama. How do you feel?”

She gave a small smile. “Silly weak heart. Quite annoying. Your papa and I used to hike in our spare time and climb mountains. Don’t get old.”

He smiled back at her usual phrase. “Carina’s bringing you liquids and I want you to stay in bed. No baking. No stress. Doctor’s orders.”

She let out a humph. “Baking relaxes me. But I will stay in bed, Michael.” Her eyes sparkled with a bit of humor. “At least today.”

“Mama—”

A quick knock on the door made him turn. Carina stood behind a tall man dressed in the standard black with a stiff white collar and a cross around his neck. His face was heavily wrinkled, but his vivid blue eyes held a glint that lit up the room. A leather Bible was clutched in his hand as he moved forward and held his arms out.

“Father Richard!” Michael rose and hugged the man.

The priest had given his family religious education lessons for many years and was grief stricken when Michael decided not to be a priest. He had an idea Father Richard dreamed of leaving him his legacy, but with the first discovery of the naked female form, Michael was a goner.

“What are you doing here?” Michael stiffened in sudden alarm. “Wait—Dios, you’re not here thinking she needs last rites, are you?”

Father Richard’s booming laugh rang out through the room. He pressed a kiss to his mother’s forehead. “Of course not, Michael. Your mama will outlive all of us if my instincts are right. Didn’t she tell you?”

Michael glanced back and forth between his mother and the priest. “No, I’m sorry, Father. Is this about Venezia’s wedding? She’s not here at the moment but should be home later this afternoon.”

“Wait! Let me get Maggie; she needs to hear this.” Carina dragged Maggie into the room and made the introductions.

Maggie furrowed her brow in confusion as she murmured a greeting to the priest.

Carina jumped up and down in bubbling excitement. “Mama, can I tell them? Please?”

His mother nodded.

“Mama and I went into town to get Father Richard. We have a big surprise for you.”

A sense of doom beat through Michael, as if he were watching a horror movie and the deafening music was swarming to a crescendo during the final murder. “What surprise?”

Carina paused for dramatic effect. “Father Richard can marry you in Italy! Right now! Venezia and Julietta will be here any moment. Michael, we got approval for you to marry Maggie. We’re having a wedding!”

The words slammed into his brain like a mean left hook. Maggie stood in perfect stillness, those cat-green eyes wide with a mixture of horror and shock.

Porca vacca. He was screwed.