22. Ginevra

CHAPTER 22

Ginevra

“ L et’s get down to business.” Arianna flips open her laptop, fingers poised over the keyboard. “Where do you want to get married? Finding the venue is often the most difficult part of planning any wedding, especially on short notice. Do you want to stay in the city or is there somewhere else in the world you envision getting married?”

She’s treating this like it’s a real wedding, which warms my insides and sends butterflies through my stomach.

I think about her question. Staying in New York would be easier for everyone, but… that also means my ex could get to me. I don’t know what he’ll do when he finds out I’m getting married. My guess is that he won’t like it, he might even try to interfere.

“I want to get married in Europe.” An ocean between me and Oliver might be enough distance.

“Let’s have a look…” Arianna types on her computer as Sophia, Ravenna, and I lean in. “We have Belmond Hotel Caruso in Ravello, Italy.”

The enormous white castle by the sea is absolutely stunning, but I shake my head. I’m not sure what I’m looking for, but I’ll know it when I see it.

“How about Chateaux Vaux-le-Vicomte in France. This garden inspired the ones at Versailles.” It’s beyond beautiful, and luxurious, but again I shake my head and Arianna moves on. “The Savoy Hotel in London?”

The venue has an old world charm that draws me in instantly. Deep wood paneling, beautiful wallpaper, and a cozy yet rich quality to it that I adore.

“That’s… it! That’s the place.” I glance at Arianna. “Do you think we can get in? It’s the end of May already. August is only a couple months away.”

“I’ll have to call them and find out. But you’re right, it will take a miracle. Did you like any of the other venues as a backup plan?”

“I could go with the one in Italy. That castle’s gorgeous.” But my fingers are crossed for London.

“I’ll put them both on the list. I think you’re going for old world vibes so I’ll keep searching and see what else I find.”

Grinning wide, I hug Arianna. “You’re the best sister ever!”

“Hey, what about me?” Sophia playfully smacks my shoulder.

“Second best?” I laugh at her fake pout.

“Ladies.” Blake’s standing in the doorway to the sitting room. My breath hitches at the way his frame fills the space, and he looks good enough to eat in that navy blue suit. He’s so damn attractive that it’s not fair. “May I have a word with you, Ginevra?”

My stupid heart skips a beat every time he says my name, even though I’m not over being mad at him for calling me a liar. Or how he dragged me in front of my entire family and announced our engagement, when I specifically told him I wasn’t ready. Though I should have expected that. Blake Baron is not a patient man. When he says he’s going to do something—like announce our upcoming nuptials at my sister’s wedding—you better believe it. Lesson learned.

So far, the aftermath has turned out just fine. If anything, forcing my hand has brought me closer to my sisters and cousin. So I don’t really have any complaints.

“Sure.” I follow him out of the room. “What’s up?”

His jaw muscles work, he’s annoyed, but I swear I haven’t done anything wrong recently. “My sister Lexa is getting married in two weeks. Our presence is mandatory. We’ll be gone for about six days.”

“Oh. Where are we going?”

“To hell.”

“Um…” I nibble on my bottom lip, confused. Surely he doesn’t mean that literally, does he?

“To the West Indies. By yacht. We’ll be trapped on a boat, then on an island, with my family for days on end. I’m not sure how to prepare you for such an experience, but I’ll do my best.” He lifts his hand to sweep a strand of my hair behind my ear and I step back, breaking the contact.

I don’t like how Blake thinks he can do and say whatever he likes without consequence. His lack of respect for me… hurts . I wish there was a way to show him that I’m more than just a puppet for him to use as he sees fit. I have feelings too.

“You’re still angry with me.” It’s a statement, not a question.

My lips twist as I consider my emotions. “You called me a liar when I wasn’t lying.”

A strained silence falls in the space between us. We gaze at each other, searching. Does he ever feel remorse? Will he admit to being in the wrong? I doubt it.

His reputation as The Black Baron , a monster in the night, isn’t just a facade, that’s who he truly is deep inside. Ruthless, unyielding, and remorseless. The scary thing is, I’m sure I don’t even know the half of what he’s capable of doing.

But living with him these past few weeks, I know that Blake’s a man who has no chill. He wears danger like he wears his suits— perfectly tailored to him. He’s a man who’s used to getting what he wants no matter the damage he leaves in his path.

He speaks so quietly I barely hear him. “I’m sorry.”

What? My mouth falls open but no sound comes out. Did I hear him right?

“Did you just apologize to me?” My voice cracks.

He waves dismissively. “There’s a first time for everything, magpie, but don’t get used to it. I’m sure it was a fluke.”

I can’t help the grin that spreads across my face. He scowls, which only makes my smile widen. He apologized to me because he hurt my feelings, and he meant it. He can downplay it all he wants, but I know he’s really sorry. He’d never, ever utter those words if they weren’t genuine.

I’m so blown away that the remainder of my pain and anger pops like a balloon. “You’re forgiven.”

He grumbles something unintelligible and closes the distance between us. This time I don’t move as he tucks one of my stray curls behind my ear. His fingertips lightly brush against my skin, sending little shockwaves through my entire body. My lips part and he glances at them before stepping away.

“I need to get back to my office.”

“Okay.” The word comes out all breathy. This man doesn’t even need to kiss me to make me weak in the knees. He’s dangerous, rude, yet sweet at times, and I absolutely cannot fall for him.

No matter how much he makes my stomach flutter.

Or how I’m beginning to crave his touch.

I should hate him for blackmailing me, but… at this point, I don’t. What began as a forced arrangement has morphed into a blessing in disguise. I’m happier here than I’ve ever been before. I don’t hate him for blackmailing me, or for destroying the Marino family. I don’t think I can hate this man for anything. That just shows how broken I really am. Unfixable.

Deeply, undeniably in trouble.

T he next week goes by in a blur of activity. While Blake’s busy at work, I spend every minute of my days either planning our wedding with Arianna or cooking with Kyla. I never knew life could be so full, I haven’t visited my childhood things in all this time. They remain in that guest room, waiting, close by if I want them.

Most nights Blake doesn’t come home until I’m already asleep and it feels like we’ve barely seen each other. Which is probably for the best. I can’t think straight when he’s around. All of this wedding planning has filled my head with unrealistic dreams of romance. Dangerous thoughts that I shouldn’t be humoring, but I can’t help it. This will be the very first time I’ll get married. Why shouldn’t it be everything I want it to be—except for the groom, of course. I shouldn’t want him. I can’t want him.

My phone buzzes and I pick it up. “Hey, Arianna.”

“We got it!”

“Which venue?” I hold my breath, fingers crossed.

Kyla stops what she’s whisking and stares at me expectantly.

“London!”

I squeal, and mouth London to Kyla. We do a little happy dance in the kitchen before she goes back to whisking.

I’m so excited, I can hardly handle it. “That’s great! How did you do it? Oh, and what’s the date?”

“We only secured it because they had a cancellation. Some heiress ran off with the groom’s older brother, so we took their spot on July 19th. I’m getting invitations printed up and sent out today.”

My stomach swoops and dives. Oh my God, in less than two months I’m getting married. This is really happening.

“Thank you so much, Arianna. I could not have done any of this without you.”

“You’re welcome. Now don’t do anything too crazy when you leave town tomorrow for the West Indies. Have fun, but not too much fun. I’ll only call if something extremely important comes up.”

“Me? Do something crazy?” I scoff and Arianna groans before hanging up. Strangely, I haven’t felt the need to act out lately. Not since after that first night I moved in with Blake. Which makes me believe that my need for raging parties and drunken debauchery stemmed from rebellion—against my parents. Against anyone who tries to control me. Though Blake’s type of control isn’t so different from my parents, I can’t quite put a finger on it. He doesn’t set me off the way they did.

Now… I don’t know. I think I’ve changed. I feel like I’m growing up, maybe growing into a whole new person, and I think I like who I’m becoming. Glancing around the kitchen, a smile tugs at my lips, I certainly like being here. It feels like home.

I ’m sitting in the living room, reading the latest gossip in the Big Apple Buzz on my phone, when Blake comes home. He sets his briefcase down, and I launch into a rant. “Can you believe what these so-called reporters are saying about your sister’s wedding? They call her a gold-digger. Worse, they say her mother and her future husband used to be lovers—that they might still be lovers. They even?—”

“That part is true.”

I gape at him. “ What? Your step-mother’s marrying her own daughter to one of her former lovers?” I can’t believe it. That’s… disgusting . Isn’t it?

Blake nods, loosening his tie and removing his suit jacket. “I told you they’re twisted. I don’t think Yve and Franklin are together anymore, but he was around a lot right after my father died. They’ve been close ever since.”

I pull a face. That’s just wrong. “They mention us in here too.”

“Oh? What do they say about us?”

“That I’m a gold-digging socialite who snagged the most eligible bachelor in New York.”

“Well they’re right, you did snag the most eligible bachelor in the city.” He flashes me a rare grin.

I huff a laugh. “Of course you’d say that.” I set down my phone. “That’s enough of that, if your ego gets any bigger you won’t be able to fit through the door.”

A genuine smile briefly appears on his face, but it barely reaches his tired eyes. I didn’t realize until now how dark the circles are beneath his eyes and how his skin’s grown pale.

“You look like shit.”

He laughs. “A fair evaluation. I feel like shit.”

Getting to my feet, I pour him two fingers of whiskey from the bar and hand it to him. “Come. Sit down.”

He’s so tired that he doesn’t even comment on me bossing him around, and he does as he’s told, settling onto the sofa where I direct him. Rounding the piece of furniture, I stand behind him and ease my thumbs into the tight muscles of his neck. He groans. His head falls to his chest as I work out his kinks.

“When’s the last time you had a proper massage?” I ask.

“Never.”

“Why?”

“I don’t like people touching me.”

I pause, my hands hovering above his skin.

“Keep going,” he grunts. “That feels fucking amazing.”

Giddiness ripples through my chest and I double-down on working my magic on him. He doesn’t like other people touching him, but he likes it when I do. I shouldn’t be so happy about that, but I am. It makes me feel special. Feeling special to a man like Blake is addictive, and dangerous.

My fingers move from his neck to his broad shoulders which are equally as knotted up. He holds a lot of tension in this area. While I’ve never given anybody a massage before, I’ve had enough of them to generally know what I’m doing. Sure enough, he slowly begins to relax. Once I have him like putty in my hands, I rake my fingers through his thick blond hair, it really is as soft as it looks. As I massage his scalp, he moans.

“This is the sweetest thing anyone’s ever done for me,” he murmurs, eyes closed.

Satisfaction pulses beneath my skin. Releasing him, I walk around until I’m standing between his legs. From the front, I circle my thumbs on his temples, then ease his tight jaw muscles. He watches me through his dark blond lashes.

Setting his drink aside, he wraps his large hands around my waist and tugs me closer, until I land in his lap. I stare into his bright blue eyes, the intensity in them has my stomach fluttering and my heart swaying. Then he lowers his lips to mine. The move is slow, deliberate, as is his kiss. His mouth moves against mine languidly. This kiss is different from others, he’s taking his time. I open for him and his tongue sensuously tangles with mine.

A fire builds between my legs. I want so much more of what he has to offer, but I’m afraid of falling too deep under his spell.

“Mm,” he hums. “You taste so sweet, magpie. In fact, you might be too sweet for a man like me.”