The Marriage Trap

Chapter Two

“Here, take the baby.”

Maggie automatically caught the infant as her brother pushed the wriggling handful into her arms and hurried off. Typical. She’d seen his savvy game of pass the baby before and refused to be the chump. Usually it was because her niece had—

“Oh, gross!”

The heavy odor of poop assaulted her nostrils. Her niece grinned proudly as pools of saliva dripped down her chin and trickled onto Maggie’s silk slacks. Lily’s diaper sagged with God-knows-what mess, and her three strands of hair stuck straight up like Alfalfa gone horribly wrong.

“Sorry, Lily, Aunt Maggie doesn’t do diapers. When you get older I’ll teach you how to ride a motorcycle, score a hot guy for the prom, and buy your first fake ID. Till then, I’m out.”

Lily crammed her fist in her toothless mouth and gnawed in delight.

Maggie held back a laugh. She glanced quickly around to see if a relative hung by so she could do a quick swap, but most of the party guests were crowded in the kitchen and dining room near the buffet. With a sigh, she rose from the couch, swung Lily on her hip, and almost crashed into the one man who irritated her the most.

Michael Conte.

He grabbed her with firm hands before she even swayed. The heat of the contact sizzled like oil on a hot skillet, but she kept her face expressionless, determined that he never know how he affected her. He’d practically stolen her BFF, insinuating himself into Alexa’s family with an easy charm that pissed her off. Since her brother designed the project at the waterfront, Michael was now invited to functions where business and pleasure combined into family events. She bumped into him everywhere, bringing back memories of that disastrous blind date and a prickle of humiliation.

“Are you okay, cara?”

The caressing tone of his voice stroked her belly like a velvet fist. Lily broke into a gummy smile and practically sighed. And who wouldn’t? Michael was simply gorgeous.

She took apart his appearance with a ruthlessness that made her one of the most sought-after photographers in the fashion industry. Long, jet-black hair pulled back from his face and tied at his nape. His face was an odd combination of grace and strength, with a high arched brow, slashed cheekbones, and a strong chin. His nose sloped with a slight crookedness that enhanced his charm. His skin was a warm olive that bespoke of his Italian heritage.

But what killed her were his eyes.

Dark and soulful, almond-shaped, and set off by a set of lush eyelashes. Always filled with a wicked sense of humor and a raw passion that glimmered right beneath his polished surface.

Crankiness stirred. Why did he bother her? Her work required her to handle half-naked men who were even better looking. Like chiseled marble statues, she rarely got zinged by an electrical current when moving naked limbs into a pose. She had dated a few models, and always retained an air of distance, enjoying their company, then moving on without a glance back. But Michael affected her by igniting a basic feminine need she’d never encountered before.

She pushed away the disturbing thought and bumped Lily higher on her hip. She made sure to keep her tone cool. “Hello, Count. What brings you?”

His lower lip twitched. “I’d never miss Alexa’s birthday party.”

“No, of course not. You don’t seem to miss many events that revolve around Alexa, do you?”

His eyebrow lifted. “Are you questioning my motives, cara?”

Maggie hated his husky accent that curled like smoke and wrapped heated wisps around her senses. But she hated his body more. Solid muscles filled out his supple leather Armani jacket. He wore a royal-blue button-down shirt, jeans, and Paciotti crocodile black boots. Besides killer style, he exuded a masculine power that pressed down upon her, combined with a deadly charm. He pretended not to have a care in the world, but Maggie glimpsed the sharp intelligence hidden behind that facade, glinting in the depth of inky black eyes.

After all, she hid the same things.

Maggie threw him the same charming smile she’d perfected in her own way. “Of course not. Just making a comment on the close personal relationship you seem to have with my brother’s wife.”

Michael chuckled and tickled Lily under the chin. The baby actually laughed. Even her niece was a traitor when it came to him. “Ah, but Alexa and I are friends, no? And without your brother, my bakery would never have gotten off the ground. He’s done an amazing job with the architectural design.”

She grunted. “Convenient, isn’t it?”

As if knowing he irritated her, he leaned forward. She caught the scent of rich coffee, clean soap, and a hint of Christian Dior cologne. Her gaze helplessly focused on those full, sculpted lips that promised sex and sin. “Do you have something to say to me, Maggie?” he asked in a low drawl. “I remember from our dinner date you are usually more . . . blunt.”

Damn him. She fought the heat that rose to her cheeks and narrowed her eyes in warning. “And I remember you’re usually more . . . honest.”

He drew back and gave her the space. “Yes, perhaps we both made a mistake that night.”

She refused to answer. Instead, she lifted Lily and placed her in his arms. He held her with such tenderness and ease that she regretted her decision immediately. “I have to go find Alexa. Lily has a dirty diaper. Would you do us a favor and change her, please?” She smiled sweetly. “After all, you’re practically family. You know where the nursery is.”

And with a turn on her stiletto heel, she walked away.

Maggie made her way through the richly decorated Tuscan kitchen, focused on getting a glass of wine. Why couldn’t anyone else see that the man was after her best friend? Her brother used to hate him, but now Nick invited him to family events and gave him every opportunity to be with his wife. The few times she mentioned it to Alexa, she laughed it off, citing no sexual chemistry.

Bullshit.

She knew Alexa never imagined the possibility because she was so in love with Nick and believed the best in people. Maggie trusted Alexa.

She just didn’t trust the charming Italian who’d wormed his way into their family.

She’d researched him for the past year, positive she’d discover a damning weakness in case she needed to blackmail him to stay away from Alexa and her brother.

She’d come up empty each time, except for one blaring item.

The women.

Michael was a well-known womanizer. She’d bet in Italy that females had lusted after him, and that hadn’t changed in New York. He was one of the most eligible bachelors in the Hudson Valley. Never a harsh comment regarding his behavior could be unearthed, even from the gossip columns. Yet, one fact remained.

He never got serious.

His longest relationship in the past year was two weeks. Maggie smothered a humorless laugh. In a way, she felt as if she’d met herself, only in male form. She could only come up with one solid reason for why he wouldn’t commit.

Alexa.

He was so in love with Alexa that he refused to give himself completely to another. Thank God he hadn’t taken her up on her proposition for another date. The memory still embarrassed her. She’d never been rejected by a man before, especially one she initially wanted.

Maggie poured herself a glass of cabernet, then wandered through the elegant dining room. She noticed the removal of certain antiques and sharp edges, the beginning of baby proofing in her brother’s mansion.

Alexa swooped down on her with a plate filled with food. “Why aren’t you eating? I need support. I’m trying to lose the baby weight but these appetizers are too good.”

Maggie grinned at her best friend. “You look fantastic. God, your boobs are huge. I’m so frickin’ jealous.” The black dress emphasized her curvy figure with the scooped neckline and knee-high length.

Alexa stuck out her tongue. “The benefits of breast-feeding. Let’s hope I don’t leak and ruin my sexy effect. Where’s Lily?”

Maggie fought a satisfied smirk. “With Michael. He’s changing her diaper.”

Alexa groaned. “Why did you do that to him? You’re always giving him a hard time. I have to go help.” She put down her plate of food, but Maggie grabbed her arm.

“Oh, all right, I’ll go check on him. I’m sure he gave Lily to your mom. He’s not stupid, Al, and he’s a man. Men don’t change diapers.”

“Nick does.”

Maggie rolled her eyes. “Rarely. He gave Lily to me because he knew she pooped.”

Alexa glared at her husband from across the room. “Why am I surprised? The other night he asked me to hold her for just a minute and when I went to look for him, he’d gone out. Out of the actual house. In his car. I mean, are you kidding me?”

Maggie nodded. “I’ll schedule a shopping trip with you soon and we’ll make him pay. Literally.”

Alexa laughed. “Go save Michael. And be nice to him, for God’s sake. I don’t know what’s up with you two. It’s been almost a year since you went out on that blind date. Did something else happen you didn’t tell me about?”

Maggie shrugged. “Nope. I told you, I think he’s secretly in love with you. But no one believes me.”

“This again?” Alexa shook her head. “Maggs, we’re just friends. He’s like family. Trust me, even Nick came around—there’s nothing between Michael and me. Never was.”

“Right.” Maggie looked at her friend, whom she loved like her sister. Alexa never knew how beautiful she really was, on the inside and outside. Nick finally won her heart, and Maggie never wanted them to forget how important they were to each other. They’d fought a hard journey but she’d never seen a happier couple. Her brother finally discovered his happily ever after. He hadn’t let their screwed-up family life affect his future, and she was proud of him for taking the leap.

At least one person in the family found peace.

Maggie hugged her. “Enjoy your food, birthday girl, and don’t worry. I’ll go rescue him.” She took her time, expecting to find Michael nursing a Scotch, child-free. She climbed the winding staircase and padded quietly down the hall. A low laugh, then humming drifted in the air. She peeked her head around and took in the sight before her.

Michael held Lily in his arms as he rocked her. He crooned a lullaby in Italian, and Maggie realized it was “Twinkle, Twinkle Little Star.” Lily gazed up at him with sheer adoration, gurgling in time to the melody. The nursery added to the almost mystical quality of the scene, with large moons and stars painted on the ceiling, and bright yellow paint splashing the walls like the sun.

Her heart stopped. A fierce longing shook through her core, and Maggie half closed her eyes in a battle to push away the emotional storm. He’d shed his jacket, which hung neatly on the back of a chair. Lily wore a different dress of yellow roses, her dainty tights and matching yellow shoes pristine and cleaned of drool. The scent of vanilla hung in the air.

She swallowed hard and clenched her fists.

He looked up.

Their gazes met and locked. For a moment, a raw, lustful chemistry shot between them. Then it was gone, and Maggie wondered if she’d just imagined the look of want on his face. “What are you doing?” she asked sharply.

He cocked his head at her accusation. “Singing.”

She sighed with impatience and motioned toward the changing table. “I mean, the diaper. You changed her? And why is she wearing that?”

He looked amused. “Of course I changed her, just as you asked, cara. Her dress was dirty, so I picked out a new one. Why do you look so surprised?”

“Figured you were raised with that old-fashioned attitude. You know, men are leaders and don’t cook, clean, or do diapers.”

Michael threw back his head and roared with laughter. Lily blinked, then babbled in response. “You haven’t met my mother. I grew up with three younger sisters. When a diaper needed changing it was my responsibility, and there was no game of pass-the-baby. I tried that once and paid dearly.”

“Oh.” She leaned against the white bureau. “Is your family back in Italy?”

“Yes. The original La Dolce Famiglia started in Bergamo, where we live. Then we expanded into Milan and have been quite successful. I decided to continue the tradition in America, and my sister runs the home base.”

“What about your dad?”

Naked emotion passed over his carved features. “My father passed on a few years ago.”

“I’m sorry,” she said softly. “It sounds like you have a close family.”

“Si. I miss him every day.” He studied her with curiosity. “And what about you? I guess you never had to change a diaper?”

She smiled and ignored the emptiness. “I had it made. Nick was older, so I had no younger siblings to worry about. Never had to lift a finger because we lived in a mansion with a maid, a cook, and a nanny. I was spoiled rotten.”

A short silence descended. She shifted uncomfortably as he made no move to disguise his pointed gaze as he searched her face, looking for something she couldn’t understand. Finally, he spoke. “No, cara. I think you had it harder than most of us.”

She refused to answer, hating the way he tried to get under her skin and figure things out. As if he already suspected more lurked beneath the surface. “Think what you like,” she said casually. “But stop calling me sweetheart.”

He responded with a wicked wink as he took in her form-fitting metallic top. As if he played with the idea of tugging down her shirt and bending his head to suck on her nipples. On cue, her breasts swelled in fierce demand, ready to play. Why did he affect her so intensely?

“Fine, la mia tigrotta.” His rich, lilting tone stripped her naked and wrapped her in crushed velvet.

Maggie inwardly cursed. “Very funny.”

He lifted a brow. “It is not meant to be funny. You reminded me of a little tiger the first moment we met.”

She refused to get in an argument about something so ridiculous. Maggie waved off his endearment and headed toward the door. “We better get out there. Alexa was looking for Lily.”

He followed with Lily tucked neatly in his arms and ran straight into Alexa’s mother.

“Maggie, darling, I’ve been looking for you!” Maria McKenzie kissed both cheeks and gazed at her with a warmth that always tripped up her heart. “Here is my beautiful granddaughter. Come here, my darling.” She took Lily and bestowed more kisses on Michael. “I heard she needed changing but it seems you make a good team.”

Why did the entire family hold the misconception they’d be perfect together? Maggie held back a sigh while Michael laughed. “Ah, Mrs. McKenzie, you know how wonderful Maggie is about taking care of her niece. I only sat back and watched.”

Guilt snagged her hard. She smiled but shot him a dirty look. Why did he always seem to come out the good guy?

“I’m having a small dinner for everyone this Friday and insist you both join me,” Maria announced.

Those family dinners used to belong to only Maggie, Alexa, and Nick. She almost sagged with relief when she remembered her schedule. “I’m sorry, Mrs. McKenzie, I’ll be flying to Milan this week. I leave in two days for a photo shoot.”

“Then I will reschedule for when you arrive back home. Now, let me take this little one back out to the party, and I will see you later.”

Alexa’s mom disappeared down the hallway, and Maggie suddenly noticed Michael’s strange expression. “You’re flying to Milan? For how long?”

She shrugged. “Probably a week. I’ll take some time to make new contacts, do some shopping.”

“Hmmm.” Somehow, the uncommitted sound seemed ominous. He looked at her as if studying her in a new light for the first time, probing her face, then dropping to her body, as if searching under her fashionable outfit for something more.

“Dude, why are you looking at me like that?” She shifted her feet as a tingly warmth heated between her thighs. No way was she going there. If there were one man in the world she’d never sleep with if the zombies took over the earth and they were the only ones left to procreate, it was Michael Conte.

“I may have a proposition for you,” he murmured.

She pushed away the memory of their first meeting and forced a smirk. “Sorry, babe. That ship has sailed and left port.”

She refused to look back as she walked away.

Michael sipped his cognac and watched as the party winded down. Luscious chocolate chip cannoli cake and pots of strong coffee were served, and a relaxed atmosphere rippled through the rooms as family and friends began making their good-byes.

Tension swirled in his gut and fought with the lovely fire of the alcohol. This time he was in trouble. Big trouble. After the phone call with Venezia and Dominick, he decided to confront his mother with a well-placed battle plan.

Michael knew sticking with the family tradition was impossible. He also realized his mother believed strongly in rules and rarely broke them. He had decided on an alternate plan that seemed brilliant. He’d throw her a story about a steady girlfriend, with a wedding in the firm future, and even promise a visit. Then he’d calmly insist Venezia marry first because of her history with Dominick, and he would cite Papa’s heavenly blessing. Maybe he’d tell her he saw it in a dream, something to soothe her doubts.

Until his other sister Julietta blew his story to rubble with a simple statement.

His mind drifted to their brief conversation.

“Michael, I don’t know what you heard, but to use one of your American phrases, the shit is about to hit the fan.” Never emotional or pulled into drama, Julietta always acted with a clear plan, which made her the perfect person to run La Dolce Famiglia. “Mama promised Papa on his deathbed she’d continue the traditions of the family. Unfortunately, that included having you marry first, no matter how ridiculous it sounds.”

“I’m sure I can talk her out of it,” Michael said, ignoring the doubts slithering like snakes in his head.

“Not gonna happen. I think Venezia is planning to elope. If she does, disaster will be an understatement. We’ll be at war with Dominick’s family, and Mama threatened to disown her. Carina is going through a hard time right now, and she’s been crying nonstop thinking her family is falling apart. Mama called the doctor and told him she was having a heart attack, but he diagnosed her with a bad case of indigestion and sent her to bed. Dios, please tell me you’re seeing someone serious and can take care of this situation? Damn patriarchal society. I cannot believe Papa bought this crap.”

The truth slammed through him. He’d never win on a deathbed promise. His father lured him into the trap, and his own mother shut the cage door behind him. He needed a wife and he needed her fast if he was going to clean up this mess. At least, a temporary wife.

What options did he have? His mind worked with brutal efficiency until the only solution lay before him. Convince his mother he was legally married, get Venezia to rush the wedding, and then a few months later break the sad news that his marriage didn’t work out. He’d deal with the consequences. Right now, he needed to fix this. After all, fixing family dramas was his job.

“I’ll be married by the end of the week,” he said.

His sister’s sharp indrawn breath cut through the phone.

“Tell Venezia not to do anything rash. I’ll call Mama and tell her the news later.”

“Are you serious? Are you really getting married, or is this a scam?”

Michael closed his eyes. In order to make the plan work, everyone needed to believe it was real. Starting with Julietta. “I have been seeing someone, and was just waiting to make it official. She doesn’t like a fuss and doesn’t want a real wedding, though, so we’ll probably hit the justice of the peace and then I’ll break the news to everyone.”

“Are you telling me the truth, Michael? Listen, this may be a mess but there’s no reason to rush marriage just to calm down Venezia. You don’t have to fix everything all the time.”

“Yes, I do,” he said quietly. The heaviness of responsibility fell over him and smothered his breath. He accepted the weight without question and moved forward. “I’ll give you the details after I talk to my fiancée.”

“Mama will insist on meeting her. She’s not going to take your word.”

His sister’s words locked the door on the cage with a final click.

“I know. I’ll arrange a visit home toward the end of the summer.”

“What? Who is she? What’s her name?”

“I have to go. I’ll call you back later.”

He disconnected the call.

The situation swirled with limited possibilities and too little time. He decided to look for one of those elite escort services that hired out companions for big events. Perhaps, with some luck, he’d find one willing to pretend to be his wife. Of course, delaying the meeting with his mother would take careful planning, and with the opening of the waterfront, he may be diagnosed with an ulcer by the end of the week.

Unless . . .

His gaze cut through the crowd and locked with a pair of cat-green eyes. A flare of lust lit low in his gut in automatic response to the challenge. She arched one perfect brow and tossed her head in dismissal, turning her back on him. He smothered a laugh. The woman was a prickly mass of sex and sarcasm. If there was a rose beneath, she surrounded herself with a thicket of thorns to warn any prince on horseback to stay way back.

Maggie Ryan was perfect for the job.

What if he bit the bullet—was that the American expression?—and got the whole charade over with immediately? What were the odds of another woman he knew traveling to Milan for a week? He trusted her. At least, a tiny bit. If she agreed, he’d be able to rush the encounter, plead work as an excuse to leave early, and allow Venezia to marry this summer. Maggie’s dislike for him was an asset—she wouldn’t get any romantic, moony ideas when she met his family and pretended to be a part of it. Of course, his mama would freak at his choice, probably expecting more of a traditional, nonthreatening spouse. Still, he’d make it work.

If she agreed.

He’d dated many beautiful women, but Maggie held a mysterious quality that hit a man like a sucker punch. Her cinnamon-colored hair shimmered in the light, a straight, silky mass that fell over her cheek and hit her shoulder in a fashionable cut. Her bangs only accented exotically tilted eyes, reminding him of the endless misty green of the Tuscan fields, sucking a man in and allowing him to get lost in the fog. Her features were sharp and clear: a strong tilted jaw, high cheekbones, and elegant nose. The stretchy fabric of her top revealed well-defined shoulders and high, perky breasts. The pewter silk of her trousers glistened as she walked and showed off a perfectly curved rear and long legs that forced a man to imagine them wrapped around his waist. Her scent was a mix of earthy undertones of sandalwood and amber, sneaking into a man’s nostrils and promising him a trip to heaven on earth.

She was no shrinking violet. Her attitude was kick-ass and woman, hear me roar. She walked and breathed and spoke pure sex, and any male in her nearby area scented it. Michael watched as she threw her head back and laughed. Her face reflected an open happiness he rarely caught—only around Alexa or her brother. Even on their first date, a heavy wall of armor barricaded her from any real emotions, evident in her quick wit, sexy smolder, and distant gaze.

She was exactly what she wanted to be without apology. Michael admired and appreciated such women, as they were too far and few between. But something about Maggie pulled him to look closer and scratch beneath the surface. Some lingering pain and need glimmered deep within those green eyes, daring a man to slay the dragon and claim her.

His sudden thought startled him. He mocked the ridiculous image, but his pants still tightened around his erection. God, that’s all he needed—some misrepresented damsel-in-distress fantasy. He’d never be a prince and didn’t want the job. Especially against a woman who’d probably steal his horse and rescue herself.

Still, for a while, he needed her. He just had to convince her to take the part.

“Hmm, I wonder what put that expression on your face. Or rather, who.”

He looked up from his chair and met a pair of laughing blue eyes. His heart warmed at Alexa’s smile, and he stood up to give her a brief hug. “Buon giorno, signora bella. Did you enjoy your party?”

Corkscrew curls slipped out of her ponytail and lay against her cheek. Happiness radiated around her figure. “Loved it. I told Nick I didn’t want a party, but you know how he gets.”

“That’s the reason he’s good at his job.”

She rolled her eyes. “Yeah, good for business but a pain in the ass at home.” She grinned naughtily. “Sometimes.”

Michael laughed. “What do you Americans like to say? TMI—too much info?” Color flushed her cheeks and he tugged on one of her curls. “Sorry, I couldn’t resist. I got you a present.”

She frowned. “Michael, the cake was enough. You almost killed me it was so delicious.”

“It’s a small one. You have meant a lot to me this past year, and I love seeing you happy.” He pulled a tiny box from his jacket pocket. “Open.”

She sighed and looked half-torn. Curiosity won out and she unwrapped the gift. The simple baby booty charm with a gleaming emerald stone lay on the fluffy cotton. She sucked in her breath and pleasure filled him at her expression.

“It’s Lily’s birthstone,” he said. “Nick told me he bought you a new gold chain, so this would go perfectly with it. Do you like?”

Alexa bit her lower lip and she blinked. “I love it,” she said huskily. She leaned forward and kissed his cheek, and he clasped her hands within his. “It’s perfect. Thank you.”

“Prego, cara.”

A strong wave of admiration and love washed over him. The moment he’d met her at a business dinner, he knew she was an exceptional woman. Fortunately, since he discovered her marriage, there was never any sexual chemistry between them. Nick was the other half of her heart. But Michael believed he and Alexa were old soul mates—meant to be good friends but never lovers. Nick initially resented their friendship but even he had become both a friend and a business partner. When Lily was born, Michael enjoyed the status of honorary uncle, which soothed the occasional burst of homesickness for his own family.

Maggie, however, disapproved.

Suddenly, she materialized by their side, as if able to sniff out whenever Alexa neared him. She raked him with a sharp look. “Presents, Al?” she asked. “How thoughtful.”

Her tone dripped with icicles and he caught an immediate chill. Her protectiveness and loyalty toward Alexa always fascinated him. How could someone who had the potential to love be so alone? Unless she had a steady lover hidden in the background? She never brought a male companion to any of the functions. Michael studied her figure but caught no softness or satisfaction, just the usual low hum of energy she always exuded.

His thoughts flashed to their first date almost a year ago. Alexa begged him to meet Maggie, citing some strange female instinct that they’d be perfect together. The moment their gazes locked, Michael knew sexual chemistry would never be their problem. She seemed just as startled by their instant connection but played it off with an expert ease until he realized she was a contradictory bundle of emotions—a tigress caught without her roar. The stimulating, edgy conversation only heightened his desire for her, but he knew she’d never be a one-night stand, as badly as she wanted to pretend that was all they could have.

He’d briefly ached to be the man to challenge her limitations and offer more. But his close relationship with Alexa and the threat of a messy breakup kept him from extending the evening to another date. He sought a woman who would fit in with his close-knit family and not keep herself distant. Maggie was the opposite of everything he believed he needed in a mate. Boring, no. But a mass of contradictions, emotions, and work, yes. If they tore each other apart, Alexa and Nick would become the victims, and since he viewed them as family, he never put anyone he cared about at risk. Not because of his own selfish needs.

He’d practiced that move most of his life.

Still, he’d screwed up. Her almost shy offer of the possibility of another date incited a fear he’d never experienced from a woman.

The raw vulnerability on her face from his rejection startled him. But there would never be a second chance with Maggie Ryan. She’d never allow herself to be put in such a position again, and she loved to remind him of it constantly.

Alexa lifted the baby charm up. “Isn’t it beautiful, Maggie?”

“Charming.”

Michael smothered a laugh at Alexa’s warning look. Like a sulky child, Maggie backed off. “I have to get going, babe,” she said. “I have to leave for Milan soon and still have tons to do.”

Alexa groaned. “God, what I’d do to go to Milan and get a new wardrobe.” She looked down at her fashionable dress and wrinkled her face.

“Lily was worth a couple of pounds,” Maggie said firmly. “I’ll bring you back a pair of sexy heels that’ll drive Nick mad.” Her gaze veered directly to Michael’s face as if to prove a point. “Not that it takes much the way you two go at it.”

“Go at what?” Nick appeared and slipped his arms around his wife’s hips.

“Never mind,” Alexa said sharply.

“Sex,” Maggie stated. “I’m going to Milan and bringing back Alexa some sexy shoes.”

Nick looked intrigued. “How about one of those silky nightie things, too?”

“Nick!”

He ignored his wife’s embarrassed hiss and grinned. “What? She’s going to the fashion capital of the world and you don’t want lingerie? Hell, I do. The way you look is just . . . delicious.”

Maggie laughed. “Done. She’ll look hot in red.”

“I hate you both.”

Nick pressed a kiss to his wife’s neck. Michael turned his head for a moment and caught the look on Maggie’s face.

Longing.

Emotion lodged at the back of his throat as he registered the wistfulness on her face while she gazed at her brother, then the shutter slammed down and the moment disappeared.

He straightened and decided to make his move. “Maggie? Before you leave, can I talk to you for a minute?”

She shrugged. “Sure. What’s up?”

“In private, please.”

Nick and Alexa shared a look. Maggie rolled her eyes at them. “Give me a break, guys. It’s not like he’s going to ask me to marry him or anything.”

Michael winced. Nick shook his head at her antics but she only stuck out her tongue and led the way down the hall toward one of the back rooms. She jumped on the high platform bed and kicked her legs out in front of her. With her arms propped behind her back, her breasts pressed against the silvery top in a demand to be freed. God, was she wearing a bra?

Michael tried to be casual as he leaned against the wooden beam of the four-poster bed. His curiosity was rewarded when twin points poked against the soft fabric. He shifted in an attempt to get comfortable, annoyed she couldn’t have picked the formal den to have this conversation. It was too easy to imagine her spread out on the champagne quilt as he dragged her top over her breasts with his teeth. He bet her nipples were ruby-colored and very sensitive. Seemed like the fabric alone caused them to respond. Michael fought a shudder and clawed for focus.

“I have a proposition for you.”

She threw her head back and laughed. The smoky sound beckoned like a witch casting a spell. “Well, then, you’ve come to the right girl.” She licked her lips with deliberate precision. The faint sheen of wetness gleamed in the light. “Proposition away.”

He smothered a curse and decided to go for the blunt approach. “I need a pretend wife.”

She blinked. “Huh?”

“Si.” He despised the slight flush his ridiculous admission caused and forged on. “I am having some family difficulties and I’m required to marry. I need someone to go to Italy with me for a week, pretend to be my wife, spend some time with my family, then leave.”

“Why do I suddenly feel like I dropped into the Lifetime movie of the week?”

“What is Lifetime?”

She waved his question off. “Never mind, a girl thing. Um, let me think about this for a moment. You need me to pretend to be married to you, hang with your famiglia, stay in their house, and then return like nothing ever happened?”

“Yes.”

“No, thanks.” She jumped gracefully off the bed and headed out. Michael cut in front of her and kicked the door closed. She arched a brow. “Sorry, not into the dominating thing.”

“Maggie, please hear me out.”

“Hell, no. I heard enough. First off, I’m going to Milan to work, not to be a mail-order bride. Second, we don’t really care for each other, and your family would pick that up in a moment. Third, we’re not even close friends, which negates me from owing you any favors. Surely, you have some lovely young thing just begging for the opportunity to shine in this role?”

Michael held back a groan. Did he really think this would be easy? “Actually, that’s why you’ll be perfect for the job. I need someone who won’t get any strange ideas. Anyway, I’m not seeing anyone at the moment.”

“What if I am?”

“Are you?”

She pulled back. The temptation to lie glimmered in those eyes, then cleared. “No. But I’m still not doing it.”

“I’ll pay you.”

She smirked. “I don’t need your money, Count. I make enough on my own, thank you.”

“There must be something we can bargain with. Something you want.”

“Sorry, I’m a pretty happy girl. But thanks for the offer.” She reached past him for the doorknob.

She was his only candidate, and he didn’t think America had a store to buy fake brides. The final option flashed before him. It would never work, of course, and Nick wouldn’t approve. But if Maggie thought it was a possibility, she may drop right into his hands. He pushed past his conscience and played his trump card. “Fine, I guess I’ll need to ask Alexa.”

Maggie stopped. Her hair flew, then slid into place as she whipped her head up to eyeball him like a prizefighter. “What did you say?”

He sighed with mock regret. “I didn’t want to ask her to leave Lily so early, but I’m sure she will help me.”

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.