The Marriage Trap

Chapter Twelve

Two days later, Maggie lounged on the back terrace, sipping a glass of wine and stroking Dante. He lay on the table, basking in the heat of the sun, grunting softly. He flipped over and exposed his massive belly, his favorite place to be scratched. Every time her hand got tired she’d stop, but then he’d hiss at her in pure menace that she now knew was completely fake.

“You’re such a drama king,” she admonished.

Those huge green eyes stared at her with implacable demand and crankiness. She let out an impatient sigh and put down her glass. She raked her nails lightly over his belly and he went back to purring so loudly he sounded like a chain saw. “Fine, fine, here, happy now?”

God, she hated cats.

Of course, like Dante, she was a big fat liar. This feline had worked its way under her skin. A cheap thrill skated through her that the stray wouldn’t let anyone touch him except for her. In a wacky way, she felt as if they belonged to each other. Two stray, bad-ass loners who didn’t know how to handle people.

What was she going to do?

Michael loved her. Ever since his shattering admission and her shattering confession, they’d silently agreed not to discuss the topic further. Maggie wanted to believe him, craved the ability to say the words back, but something held her prisoner.

Her past.

The sunlight struck the two-carat diamond on her ring finger and shimmered in mockery.

She needed to make a decision soon. She agreed to stay a few days longer while they made sure Mama Conte was okay, and they could get Venezia’s wedding plans solidified.

She had never told anyone except her mother about the rape. Her mother’s betrayal killed a trust deep inside of her, and Michael brought it back to life. Goose bumps lifted her arms at the memory of his hands and mouth and tongue on every part of her body without the ability to do anything but surrender. Damn, now she knew why that bondage stuff was so widely read.

Dante leered as if he knew her thoughts, kicked her hand away, and stretched into a different position. “Yeah, I bet you’re a male stud, knocking up all the helpless females around town,” she pointed out to him. “Take some responsibility for your actions, buddy. I think I need to take you to the vet and get you fixed.”

“Are you talking to the cat?”

Maggie turned her head and fought a blush. Carina stood with her arms crossed, laughing at her. “Of course not,” she denied hotly. “You’re hearing things.”

She snickered. “Yeah, sure. Hi, Dante.” She took a few steps closer, her hand held out, a low, soothing tone wrapping around the cat. He watched her slow approach and Maggie and Carina held their breath.

With a disgusted hiss, he jumped up, swished his tail, and disappeared into the bushes. Carina’s mouth dropped open. Maggie hid her satisfied expression and sipped her wine. “Why doesn’t he like me?” she whined. “I love animals. I feed him. You insult him and he adores you.”

Maggie shrugged. “Men are fickle. What’s going on?”

“We’re going into town to look at flowers. Wanna come?”

Maggie wrinkled her nose. “Boring. I’ll pass.”

Carina giggled. “I know, I’m not a flower kind of girl myself, but since you’re still new to the family, you can get out of these things.” She let out a sigh. “Fine, be a brat. I’ll see you a bit later. Mama’s resting but doing fine.” A confused expression flitted over her face. “It’s really weird, too. As soon as you guys left, she had all this energy, was back to her old self, and seemed fine. The doctor came again and said the whole thing must have been a false alarm.”

“Huh. Weird, but at least she’s better.”

“Yeah, you’re right. See you later.”

Carina left and Maggie sat for a while longer, basking in the heat and the silence. She needed to find Michael. With the house empty, it was time they talked. She drained the last of her wine for liquid courage and went inside the house.

She peeked through some of the rooms, then caught his deep voice from the study. She stopped outside the door and paused before knocking. Maybe she’d wait outside until—

“No, Max, she didn’t marry me for my money. She makes enough on her own. You are like an overprotective mama, mia amico.”

He paused, then spoke with a coldness that gave her a chill. “You did what? Hiring a private detective to check on her background is unacceptable. Yes, I know about her past. She is unlike her parents. Merda, do not challenge me on this; she is my wife now.”

More silence.

“No, I don’t think children will happen for a while—she needs some time. She is not the typical woman I wanted to marry but things change. I can wait.” Maggie heard his footsteps back and forth. “This is my decision and I no longer want to discuss it. I will make this work.”

The conversation went on a bit longer while she hid in the corridor. Humiliation burned until her skin actually prickled. Max didn’t believe she was good enough for his best friend. What had the detective told him? That her parents were a joke and she had no experience with a healthy relationship? Within minutes of meeting her, Max realized the truth she’d been desperately trying to hide.

She was only a shell of a woman. Michael deserved more. He needed someone with an open heart and no complications. A woman his family didn’t have to train; one who loved cats and children and cooking.

Not a woman like her. One with a crappy past, a bruised heart, and an inability to love.

She backed up slowly as the panic attack threatened. Turned. Then she heard him.

“Ah, la mia tigrotta, would you like to go for a walk with me? It is a beautiful evening.”

His musical, rich voice caressed her skin and tempted her to forget.

The truth slammed through her.

She couldn’t pretend anymore. Not with him. Not with herself.

Maggie stared up at her husband and made the only decision she could.

“Michael, I’m going home.”

He blinked and reached out, but she jerked back. He frowned. “What’s the matter, Maggie? Did something happen?”

“I want to go home alone.”

“Is this about us?” He grabbed her arm and leaned in. “Are you running scared because I confessed my feelings? I know we didn’t talk about it right away, but I thought I’d give you some time.”

She yanked her arm away and sneered. “Don’t do me any favors, Count. Let’s just say I’m sick of the lies, and I want my life back. Not this fake life. This fake marriage.” She flung her hands up and encompassed the room. “This is all bullshit! We’ve been playing a part, pretending to be married, then forced into a real marriage when there’s no way it’ll work. We’re too different. I don’t want this!” she cried out. “I don’t want overbearing sisters, and stray cats, and forced baking lessons! I don’t want to feel strangled all the time under the weight of responsibility. I like being free and making my own choices. So it’s time we both wake up and stop playing at a damn movie of the week.”

A muscle ticked in his jaw. The anger swirled with pain and only enraged her further. “Did my words mean nothing to you?” he asked furiously. “I told you I loved you. Did that mean nothing?”

She stuck out her chin. Met his gaze dead-on. “Your words meant nothing.”

She turned on her heel to leave. He made a move to stop her but she spit like Dante and bared her teeth. “Leave me alone; can’t you see I don’t want this anymore? I don’t want you or this awful lifestyle your real wife would inherit! Have some pride, for God’s sake.”

This time, he let her go.

She raced down the hall, seeking shelter to lick her wounds before her speedy departure. She’d walk into town, leave her belongings, and get them at a later date. Other than her camera, everything else was replaceable. Better to get out now before she faced his sisters. Michael could come up with some excuse.

With leaden feet, she grabbed her camera, purse, and cell phone. She made some quick calls and left the only home that ever made her feel like she belonged. The only home that ever made her feel loved.

Maggie didn’t look back.

“What’s going on?”

Maggie sat in the living room and stared at her best friend. Alexa rocked the baby on one hip, the standard drool cloth tossed over her shoulder, while Lily babbled and squealed as she stared at the puppy playing by her mother’s feet. The small golden ball of fur pawed at her slipper-clad toes and scampered back and forth every time Alexa moved away.

Old Yeller, the ugly hound Alexa convinced Nick to keep more than a year ago, lay in the small patch of sun leaking through the window and watched the puppy with an air of disapproval. The familiar blue and orange Mets bandanna wrapped around his neck gave off a distinguished appearance unheard of for a once mangy stray.

Maggie tried to avoid the subject. “I can’t believe you got a puppy. Nick hates messes.”

Alexa let out an impatient breath and danced out of the fur ball’s reach. “Oh, I didn’t do it this time. Nick was coming home from the waterfront and found Simba in the woods, crying. Bruises all over the poor thing’s body. Must have been thrown out of a moving car.”

Maggie winced. “I can’t believe he didn’t take it to the shelter. What have you done to my brother?”

Alexa laughed and bounced in time to the hip-hop music streaming from the surround-sound speakers. Simba growled in delight and tried to keep up with the moves. Lily giggled. “First he took the dog to the vet, then brought it home while demanding I don’t get attached. He said he’d put an ad in the paper and find the dog a home.” She shrugged. “So I let him. After a week, the ad disappeared and we never spoke about it again. He says hello to the puppy before me when he gets home from work.”

Longing washed through Maggie. She missed that stupid cat and the way he’d roll over and demand his belly be scratched. She missed Carina’s bouncy eagerness, and Julietta’s crisp business attitude, and Venezia’s dramatic outbursts. She missed Michael’s mother’s quiet insistence in the kitchen, the smell of baking, and drinking coffee on the terrace.

She missed her husband.

Maggie concentrated on breathing and struggled through the raw pain. One day at a time. She’d be okay; she was a survivor. But who knew surviving was so much less than living?

“Well, you can thank him properly because I got you a present.” Maggie tossed her friend the silky red negligee. “No details, please. Still too weird for you to shag my brother.”

Alexa laughed and examined the gorgeous piece of lace and silk in one hand. “Thanks, babe, it’s just what we needed tonight. Besides a babysitter.”

“I’ll take her one night this week so you can have a date night. I’m not going on any other trips for a while.”

Maggie flexed her hands. Her naked ring finger flashed in mockery, and she hurriedly clasped her hands in her lap.

Alexa studied her for a long while. Her voice was soft and comforting when she finally spoke. “Maggie, you have to tell me the truth. What’s going on?”

She shrugged. “Went to Italy. Saw Michael. Back now. Nothing else to tell.”

“Michael came to see me.”

Her head shot up and she gasped. “What? What did he tell you?”

Alexa marched over to the playpen, placed Lily in, kicked Simba gently off her leg, and joined her on the couch. Her blue eyes held a mixture of sympathy and support. “Michael told me everything, Maggie. About going to Italy and pretending to be his wife. About the priest making it real. And how he confessed his feelings to you but you ran away and threw them back in his face.”

Literal red blazed before her eyes from the sheer lies he’d uttered. She trembled and tried to speak rationally. “He didn’t give you the whole story, Alexa.”

“Then why don’t you?” Hurt shimmered in her face. “You’re my best friend.”

Maggie grabbed her hands and held tight. The tears threatened, then held. “I’m so sorry. I had a plan, but the whole thing misfired and now it’s a mess. I made Michael a bargain—I’d pretend to be his wife if he promised to stay away from you. I know he has deep feelings, and I was worried about you and Nick. He agreed, but when we got to Italy, things got complicated.”

“I cannot believe you are still stuck on this idea. There’s never been anything between us but friendship.”

“I know that now.”

“What happened? You started to fall for him?”

Maggie nodded. “At first I thought it was just sex. But then his family sucked me in, and the stupid cat, and then we had more sex and I began to get crazy ideas about a relationship between us. He told me he loved me.”

Alexa squeezed Maggie’s fingers. “And what did you say?”

“Nothing. I couldn’t say anything, because I didn’t really believe him. I was going to talk about it, but then I heard him on the phone with his friend Max.” She took a breath. “He didn’t believe I was good enough for Michael. Thought we were a terrible match, and he’s right.”

Alexa gasped. “When have you ever listened to anyone’s opinion?”

Maggie shook her head stubbornly. “I heard the conversation. I’m not right for him—I’m not the type of woman he needs. He wants a big family with pets and constant trips to Italy. He wants a nice, solid wife with a respectable career and a sweet manner. We fight. And I hate all those things.”

“Oh, Maggie.” Alexa gripped Maggie’s hands as tears filled her eyes. “My dear friend, don’t you know you are all those things? When are you finally going to believe it? Just your loyalty toward Nick and me and your willingness to protect us tells me you were meant to have a family of your own. Michael is a complicated man—something not many other women see or even know is there. But you do. You challenge him, and push him, and make him feel things more intensely. When he came to tell me everything, his heart was broken. He believes you don’t love him, can never love him, and he’s destroyed.”

Maggie fought tears. God, the idea of Michael hurt tore her to shreds. She loved him so fiercely, yet she knew Alexa couldn’t see the truth.

She needed so much more. Funny how she never believed she was worth the demand before. But Michael had changed her. In allowing herself to fall in love with him, she knew she’d always need to be with a man who felt the same way. Anything else may break her.

“I’m sorry, Al. I want to move on with my life and I never want to talk about Michael Conte again. If you’re truly my friend, you’ll do this for me.” Her voice broke. “Please.”

Alexa let out an annoyed breath. “But—”

“Please.”

She pressed her lips together. Then nodded. “Okay. I just want you to be happy, Maggie.”

The bleakness of her future descended on her like a cloud, and she forced a smile to her lips. “I’ll be okay. Now, let’s talk about something else.”

The rest of the hours passed and for a little while, Maggie pretended everything was back to normal.

Michael sat behind his desk and stared at his notes on the opening ceremony. In two days, his dream for his family and La Dolce Famiglia would finally come true. The first chain of bakeries would be revealed Friday night in a lavish presentation and party to rival all others.

The weather should hold, promising a beautiful crisp spring day with lots of sun. The bakery was prepared to fling open its doors with a variety of desserts, special coffees, and fresh breads. The downtown waterfront was a dream for a few investors who saw a vision like no other.

This should be the happiest week of his life.

Instead, grief wracked his body and tortured his heart. He decided to tell Alexa the truth in an effort to see if there was a way to reach Maggie. How her words had shred him, and her speedy departure only confirmed her harsh confession. She didn’t want him. Didn’t love him. And didn’t want the life he could offer her.

The night had been a mess. He’d spun a crazy tale of a sick uncle and had to play the proper part to convince his mother and sisters everything was okay. He left the next day and had his driver deliver the luggage she left behind. Michael pressed his fingers against his aching temple. Dios, what a mess. He’d finally fallen in love, and the woman didn’t even want him. How would he ever get over her?

Her image taunted him nonstop. The way she surrendered in his arms and shattered with climax. The way she bullied him, and laughed with him, and challenged him at every step. The tenderness she showed his family, and the way she catered to Dante, though she swore she disliked him. Contradictory and loving to a fault, she was meant to be his. He never confessed his past to other women. No woman had ever dug deep enough to even bother to ask about his dreams. But Maggie understood, acknowledged, and supported him.

A deep grief beat within his heart, and needing to drown it, he quickly reached for the bottle of cognac and poured himself a glass. The burning liquid slid down his throat with ease and exploded in his belly. Maybe if he got rip-roaring drunk, he could finally sleep without images of her naked and open beneath him.

His cell rang. He muttered a curse and looked at the ID. Paused a moment. Then hit the button. “Alexa? Is everything okay?”

He listened for a long time as she spoke. Suddenly, the jagged pieces slid together and fit. His heart sped up, and he stood from his chair as his friend detailed the conversation. A plan formed, and he knew what he needed to do.

It would be his last stand, but she was worth fighting for.

He only hoped it would be enough.

Maggie stood in the crowd near Alexa and watched the ceremony take place. Her luggage had arrived on her doorstep yesterday. A simple note came attached to the handle in his elegant scrawl.

I will adhere to our bargain and file the necessary papers to dissolve the marriage.

She ignored the disappointment and concentrated on the satisfaction that her family would be left alone. The emptiness in her gut drove her to reach for the phone and set up some jobs overseas. She needed to get out of New York and keep busy. She’d arrive in London by the end of the week. Maybe she needed lots of distance to heal.

Distinguished sailboats and water ferries cut their way gracefully through the water, lending to the perfect backdrop of the buildings. The designs all seemed to flow with the majestic mountains and water, the lines fluid and sleek and low, enhancing rather than blocking nature’s view. Limestone lent a cool, fresh air to the spa, and the lush gardens snuck around each of the buildings set up with benches, sculptures, and trickling fountains. The sushi restaurant boasted an ancient Japanese tearoom, and the bamboo walls and gorgeous red silks blended in a visual feast of the senses. Bright murals had been painted on the old brick walls that once housed a broken-down train station. Fully restored, the waterfront now reminded her of what creativity, TLC, and a little money could accomplish.

La Dolce Famiglia was the final store to be revealed. A sprawling cloth with the logo imprinted on it covered the building, the ropes ready to drop at the sign from Michael. The crowd stirred with excitement, and the band struck up with dramatic flourish.

Alexa hooted and hollered when Nick cut the red ribbon, and Maggie joined in as pride rushed through her. Nick had worked hard and believed in his vision to transform the waterfront into something beautiful. He believed in his dreams. Maybe it was time she did the same. She may not get the man she loved, but she had the ability to change her career for a deeper satisfaction. After flipping through the photos she’d taken in Bergamo, an inner calling to shoot something more meaningful rose within her. Usually she ignored such instincts. This time, she decided to explore her need to capture some of the beauty in the world with her own unique vision. She planned day trips around her regular shoots, and made arrangements to meet with some magazine editors in England she knew to discuss some new options for her work.

Michael stepped up to the raised podium. Her heart tripped. Every cell in her body screamed for the right to smooth back his hair, touch his hard cheek, and revel in this moment with him. Dressed in an elegant charcoal suit with a purple tie, he took up the entire stage with his presence and immediately quieted the crowd. His dark good looks and sexy brooding stare made the women around her giggle and chatter. Maggie fought the primitive instinct to tell them to back off. Instead, she remained silent.

“Ladies and gentlemen,” he said into the mic, “I’m pleased to be with you to finally reveal the culmination of a family dream. My family built their first bakery in Bergamo, Italy, with pastries cooked out of my mama’s kitchen. With a lot of hard work, the Contes opened stores throughout Milan, and always dreamed of coming to America to share our recipes. That dream is finally here, and I thank all of you for sharing it with us.”

People clapped and roared. He went on to thank Nick and Dreamscape Enterprises, his business partners, and a variety of other members who helped along the way. Then he paused. Looked out into the crowd. And stabbed her with his gaze.

Maggie caught her breath.

His eyes seethed with emotion. He spoke as if they were alone, each word drilling into her mind and her heart with a deliberate intimacy that made shivers run down her spine. “Family is very important to me. This is something I believe in. The name of La Dolce Famiglia is a sign of my beliefs and my pride in what I hold dear. In what I love above nothing else.”

Her palms grew damp as she stood rooted to the ground, transfixed by his voice and his eyes and his presence.

“I have now discovered a new type of family. I have fallen in love with an incredible woman, one who made me believe in happily ever after. One who cracked my world open and made me whole. But, alas, she does not believe me. Words are not enough to convince her that I need her in my life. That she makes me whole. Therefore, I am proud to reveal my new bakery, and a new chain to open in America, where I have met the woman I want to be my wife.”

With a nod, the ropes tugged, then released.

The elaborate scrolling sign with bold letters proudly displayed the name.

La Dolce Maggie.

The blood pumped through her veins, and the world blurred, tilted, and held. She blinked and turned her head toward Alexa, who fiercely held her arms and gave her a tiny shake.

“Don’t you understand, Maggie?” she asked with tears shining in her bright blue eyes. “He loves you. It was always you—but you have to be brave enough to reach for it. You have to believe you’re worth it. That’s what you told me the day Nick confessed his love for me, remember? If you love someone, you fight for them, again and again. My best friend is not a coward. You deserve this. You deserve love.”

Like a vampire coming back to life after a deep sleep, suddenly she saw every color and shape slide into sharp focus. Her senses exploded, and she began walking through the crowds, making her way to the stage, where Michael waited for her.

He met her halfway. She studied his beautiful face, the full curve of his lip, the shadowed stubble over his chin, the crooked nose, the seething heat in his onyx eyes. He cupped her face between large, hard hands and pressed his forehead against hers. His breath rushed warm over her mouth.

“My Maggie, mia amore, I love you. I want to live with you, grow old, and have bambinos with you. You wrecked me. Completely. I could never settle for another woman because I’d be bored out of my mind. Don’t you understand? I don’t want the typical wife you think would make me happy, because you were meant for me, all of you. Your sarcasm, and wit, and sexiness, and honesty. You belong with me, and I won’t give up until I finally convince you. Capisce?”

She choked back a sob and reached for him.

His lips came down on hers and he kissed her deeply, as the roar of approval from the crowds echoed in her ears. Her heart expanded in her chest and settled. A sense of peace and homecoming flooded through her, and she finally believed.

“I love you, Michael Conte,” she whispered fiercely when his lips released hers. “And I want it all. With you, your family, your bakeries, everything. I’ve always loved you, but I was too afraid to take it.”

He kissed her again. Michael grabbed her and lifted her high, laughing in joy. She stood wrapped up in the tight circle of his arms, finally complete.

With her own home and happy ending.