Chapter 34

34

Jeanne

It's going to be different for me. It has to be different for me.

Going by the strike-out rate of the people I know, I'd say that more than 50% of marriages end in divorce. This isn't based on any scientific study, just what I see around me.

I'd always hoped things would be different for me. Call it my optimistic nature. Or rather, my romantic nature. Or perhaps, my blindly trusting nature. But my instinct has always said that when I get married, it'll be for keeps. I've always thought it would be different for me. That I'd marry the man I fell in love with and live with him happily ever after. Maybe it's my steady diet of smut novels that's nurtured that dream in me. It's why I can't help that thought echoing through my mind as I reach the doors that lead to the conservatory.

I come to a standstill. What am I doing? Am I going to bind myself to a man I barely know? A man I'm attracted to, all right, but not someone for whom I harbor those kinds of feelings.

And he certainly has no such tender emotions where I'm concerned. I'm merely an asset, a convenience… Someone who happened to be there; someone with whom he confesses he senses the chemistry that I do. Someone who'll help him get off the hook where his family is concerned. That's all I am, a convenient prop in this game he's playing with his nearest and dearest.

So why does everything feel so real? Why does it feel like I'm wearing my wedding dress and about to say my vows to the man of my dreams? Can this monster be my savior? Can he be the man I've gravitated toward my entire life?

A touch on my shoulder shakes me out of my reverie. "Jeanne, you okay, babe?" Penny asks.

I nod.

"There's still time, honey." Olivia steps up and peers into my features. "I know these Mafioso men can be very persuasive. If you want to leave, we'll handle them in there. If you don't want to go through with this?—"

"I do," I whisper, and oh, god, I mean it. My belly twists. My chest hurts. But something deep inside me tells me to proceed. "I know it seems crazy, but this feels right to me."

"Are you sure?"

I nod.

She peers into my features, then nods. "Okay then." She pushes the doors open and steps forward.

Rather than walk in front of me, I'd asked the girls to flank me on either side, mainly so I'd have moral support. We enter the room together.

I raise my gaze and see him. Luca. Clothed in a black suit, black shirt, and black tie—Luca. His hair is combed back from his face, except for that one unruly strand which flops down on his forehead. My fingers tingle. I want to reach out and push it back so I'll have an unobstructed view of that gorgeous face. Those piercing blue eyes, those thick eyelashes, the cheekbones which seem to be carved out of granite, that square jaw which I itch to place my palm against. The beautiful neck, those wide shoulders clad in a jacket which clings to him like it was stitched over his frame. The wide chest that stretches his shirt before narrowing down into that trim waist, those powerful thighs covered with pants that cling to every ripped muscle of his legs.

I gulp. My throat feels like I've swallowed a frog. My heartbeat cranks up until the blood pumps in my ears with such force, every sound in the room fades away. A bead of sweat runs down the valley between my breasts, and my skin feels too tight for the rest of me. I try to take in a breath, but my chest feels like it's being squeezed. My ribcage seems to have turned into an iron cage that compresses my lungs. My head spins and black spots speckle my vision. No, no, no. I am not going to faint, not now.

His eyes spark, his features harden, and every muscle in his body seems to grow rigid. Without breaking the connection of our eyes, he holds out his hand, and everything else in the room seems to fade. My vision tunnels. His gaze is a tractor beam that draws me in, slowly. Slowly. Only when I pause in front of him, do I realize I've covered the distance between us. I place my hand in his, and the warmth of his touch swoops up my arm, surrounds my chest, flows through my entire body. A breath I hadn't known I was holding rushes out of me. I guess that's why I couldn't inhale. With it, the sounds in the room filter in—the shuffle of feet behind me, from either Olivia or Penny, the clearing of the throat from the official who's standing on the other side of the table placed in front of us.

My knees have turned into jelly. I sway, and he tightens his grip on me. He holds my gaze until I feel steadier, then twines his fingers through mine and tugs me forward until the tips of my stilettos brush his shoes. From the corner of my eye, I notice Massimo hold up his phone to film the ceremony.

Luca jerks his chin in the direction of the official, indicating he should start. He turns to face me, and holds my gaze through the mercifully short ceremony.

I remember nodding and saying "I do," when it's my turn. Remember him staring deep into my eyes when he does the same. Then he releases his hold on me, long enough to slide something on my finger. I glance down at the platinum band with the citrine in the center and the tiny diamonds on either side. I hate to say it but the ring is gorgeous. It's not one of those ostentatious diamond wedding rings that are all money and no class. This one is discreet yet pretty, it's fragile and tasteful. It's beautiful and it suits me completely.

He holds both of my hands in his, raises my fingers to his mouth, and kisses the ring he placed on my finger. That's it. No ring for him. Of course not. Only the woman gets to wear a ring. So, he can stamp his brand of ownership on me for all to see, but apparently, I don't get to stamp my ownership on him. I glower at him. He ignores it, and kisses me on the forehead. A chaste kiss that could have been between friends. He pulls a pen from his pocket, leans forward, and signs on what I assume is the marriage certificate. He hands the pen to me, and when I'm done signing, he takes the pen from me, slides it back into his pocket, and wraps his arm around me.

We turn to face my friends and Massimo, whose attention is diverted. His eyebrows are drawn down and he's staring at Olivia. Who's glowering right back at him. Huh? What did I miss?

Penny rushes forward and throws her arms around me. "Congratulations!" She kisses me on my cheek, then hugs Luca, who seems taken aback, then pleased.

"I know you'll make her happy. I know you love her. I see it in your eyes," she declares.

Seriously, this woman needs to take off her rose-tinted glasses and realize life is not all candy floss and white wedding gowns, and that even the most precious of rings, however beautiful they look, are not always symbolic of a love match.

The official behind us clears his throat again. "I need two witnesses to sign, as well."

"I'll do it." Olivia seems to tear her gaze off Massimo's with difficulty. She steps forward, then looks around for a pen.

"Here." Massimo pulls a pen from inside his coat pocket. He walks over and hands it to Olivia, who takes it with a muttered thanks. She finishes signing, then he does the same. The two of them stare at each other for a second longer, then as if by mutual agreement, they turn to face us.

"Everything okay?" I glance between them.

"Of course." Olivia pastes a big smile on her face. She steps forward and hugs me. "Congratulations. I hope you'll be happy."

"You still don't approve, do you?" I mutter under my breath.

"It doesn't matter what I think." She steps back and kisses my cheek. "If this is what you want, then who am I to disagree? Just remember, if you ever need help, I'll be there for you."

I hold her gaze. I want to stay angry with her for refusing to believe that the marriage between Luca and me won't last—which it isn't going to, of course, but she could, at least, feign happiness for me. I know she's only looking out for me, but still, why can't she just pretend to be thrilled for us? Probably because she's wiser than me.

She takes my hand in hers and squeezes it one last time, then steps back. "We're going to make our own way back to Palermo," she declares.

"But you won't make it back in time for the rehearsal this evening," I protest.

"I already checked the flights. I booked two tickets on the first flight out, which leaves in..." She looks at her watch. "In two hours. We'll be back in Palermo in plenty of time for the rehearsal."

"You're not taking a commercial flight," Massimo says in a hard voice.

"Newsflash: it's how we normal people do things. Which you are not." She looks him up and down. "But I wouldn't expect you to understand, given your lifestyle. Also, I am not flying back in the same plane as you. I only agreed to come by private jet because I needed to get here in time to witness my best friend's wedding, which—" She turns to face me. "I have now done." She steps forward and kisses me again on my cheek. "See you back at rehearsal."

She walks past us and heads for the door, then stops and glances over her shoulder. "You coming, Penny?"

Penny looks at her pleadingly.

Olivia scowls back at her.

"You're leaving? So soon?" I cry.

Olivia bites her lips. Then she closes the distance between us and hugs me again. "I am so sorry. I know it's hurtful of me to take off like this. It's just... I can't stand your brother-in-law."

I glance from her to where Massimo is watching her closely.

"Huh? Is there something between the two of you? Something you haven't told us?"

She hesitates, then leans in even closer. "I can neither confirm nor deny that statement," she mutters.

"Oh my god. So, you two have definitely met before? Have you slept with him?" I whisper-yell.

"Shh!" She peers at Massimo from the corner of her eyes. "Don't worry about it. Anyway, today is not about me; it's about you. I truly hope that you'll be happy."

She kisses my cheek. "Please don't be angry with me for leaving, okay?"

I take in her flushed features, the widened eyes. She's spooked all right.

"Fine." I blow out a breath. "Go on, get out of here. But you owe me an explanation."

"Thanks Jeanne." She squeezes my arm. "I'll see you in time for the rehearsal, okay?" She steps back.

Penny rushes over and hugs me again. "See you in a few, babe. Remember what I said about riding the stallion?"

Before I can ask her to shut up, she squeezes my arm, then follows Olivia out. The door shuts behind them.

"Your friend doesn't like me very much," Massimo muses.

"Oh, she's like that with everyone. She takes a little time to warm up to people. Just give her time; she'll come around."

He scratches his jaw as if her entire reaction confused him.

"Uh, I should be leaving, too." The official hands an envelope to Massimo, then skitters away.

Massimo hands the envelope to Luca, who slips it into his coat pocket. Then, Massimo steps back and holds up his phone again.

"He needs another photo to share with la famiglia ." Luca puts his arm around me and pulls me close. I try to smile, but my lips are frozen in a rictus. The heat of his body snaps around me and holds me in place as effectively as a noose. I draw in a breath, and the scent of him goes straight to my head. Oh, my god, there's no escaping him. He's all around me, in me, and now I'm married to him.

He turns and dips his head until his breath raises the hair on my forehead. "Relax, I'm not going to hurt you."

You already have. You just don't know it.

He tips my chin up and peers into my eyes. "Trust me, Angel. Everything's going to be fine."

I hold onto those sparks in the depths of his blue eyes like an ant clings to a leaf on the surface of a roaring river. He searches my features, hesitates, then as if unable to stop himself, lowers his head and presses his lips to mine. The softness of his kiss is a surprise. He holds his lips against mine as if content to savor the taste. His breath mingles with mine. The touch of his fingers is as if branded into my skin. The sensation of his mouth on mine is so tender. How can such a hard man feel so adoring? A shiver sluices through me. I tremble, and his grip on my chin tightens.

"That's a great picture, you guys." Massimo's voice cuts through the noise in my head.

Luca pulls back and so do I. His chest rises and falls. On his features is an expression of shock, which must mirror the confusion I'm feeling.

"I'll see you back home."

Luca nods without breaking our connection.

Massimo's footsteps recede, the door snicks shut behind him, but still, Luca doesn't glance away.

Tendrils of heat bubble under my skin. A yawning sensation opens in my belly. I shuffle my feet, then squeeze my thighs together. "I…" I clear my throat. "I think I should return to my room."

I turn away from him and take a step forward, when my wrist is caught, and I'm hauled back against him.

"I didn't give you permission to move," he rumbles.

"I don't need your permission for anything." I try to pull away from him, but his grip tightens.

"Do you know what it does to me when you struggle like that, Angel?" I risk a glance at his face, then shiver when I see his eyes hooded with desire.

"Is that another kink of yours, forcing yourself on women who don't want you?"

His expression tightens. A nerve pops at his temple, then he releases me so suddenly, I stumble and would fall, except he rights me, then pulls his hand back again.

I want to say I'm sorry for what I said, but my stupid pride stops me.

He glares at me, then jerks his chin toward the door. "Go then, I won't stop you."

I hesitate.

He firms his lips. "For fuck's sake, leave, or I won't be responsible for what happens here next."

His big shoulders bunch. His biceps flex. The buttons on his jacket strain, as if there's a storm barely contained under his skin. He folds his fingers into fists at his sides, and the skin over his knuckles stretches white. There's so much nervous tension pouring off of him that my throat goes dry.

"Luca?" I swallow. "Please."

His glare intensifies.

"Luca. I… I… " I squeeze my fingers together, and my new ring digs into the flesh of my palm. Pinpricks of pain steal up my arm, and my nipples tighten. "Luca." I glance away. "I?—"

"What do you want?" He lowers his voice to a hush and every nerve-ending in my body seems to catch fire. "Tell me, wife, what do you want from me?"

Wife. He called me wife. A longing bursts to life somewhere deep inside of me. It bleeds into my veins, and spreads to my extremities until it feels like I'm a mass of melting need. "I want you to take my ass, and my pussy, and my mouth, all at the same time."