Chapter Sixteen
The day of Nonna’s party had arrived. Because of Lily by his side, he’d almost forgotten his purpose in coming on this trip—to bid his grandmother farewell, even if she refused to discuss her health.
Marco had spoken to the cousins who had accompanied Nonna to her doctor’s appointment and exams, and they guaranteed him she was good enough to be part of the celebrations as long as she remembered her limitations and weak heart. She dressed to the nines and smiled, but she always had a nurse close by, and she usually retired from the festivities much earlier than anyone else.
The weight of a grand piano sat on his chest. He’d miss her, even if he hadn’t been around much in the past years. Seeing her always put a smile on his face.
“Arietta asked me to help her with her dress when I’m ready,” Lily said to him. “Is it okay if we meet downstairs?” A deep green gown outlined her delectable curves.
“I would prefer to crease your dress before,” he said, embracing her, his hand sliding down to caress her ass.
She nudged his elbow and jerked away from him. “Nope. Tonight is the last opportunity I’ll have to look like I’m attending a red-carpet event, and you’re not ruining it, mister.”
Though her voice was amused, he tensed up. She had a point. The next morning, they’d travel back to the States, where he only had one more week left with her.
“I’ll ruin the dress later,” he said, pulling her to him.
She kissed his cheek. “The dress and the makeup. Not now.”
Before he caught her mouth with his, she pushed him away with a mischievous grin and sashayed out of the room.
He buttoned up his immaculate white shirt and was about to search for the rest of his tuxedo hanging in the closet, when someone knocked on the door. “Come in,” he said.
Elegantly dressed, Nico marched into the room. “I just ran into Lily in the hallway, so I thought I’d come in and talk to you.”
Marco grabbed the jacket and slid it on. “Shoot,” he said.
Nico paced in a small circle until he stopped, staring at him square in the eye. “I just called her Lily, Marco. Not Patricia. I know the truth.”
Marco paused for an instant. His neck stiffened; his jaw clenched. If he made a big deal, Nico would go for blood. Instead, he decided to act as natural as possible. Ignoring the chill moving through his veins, he turned to his brother and adjusted his sleeves. “So?”
Nico’s dark green eyes glared. “So? She’s lying to all of us, and you’re in on it. Are you insane?”
“No. It’s my life, and I don’t owe you any explanations.”
Nico shook his head. “Yes, you do. You can screw whoever you want—I’m not a saint myself. That said, when we have to back off a huge deal because she doesn’t want to sell her precious shop, then yeah, we have a problem.”
Marco took the tie and began to loop it around his neck. His brother had a point. He had to give him some explanation because they did business together. Besides, if he got him in his corner, if he made him understand, maybe he wouldn’t spill the beans to anyone, and the dirty little secret would never make its way to their grandmother.
“Sit down. I’ll tell you.”
Nico gestured with his hands. “I’m too pumped to sit.”
“I brought Lily here because I wanted to show Nonna I’ve found someone, as my parting gift for her. Our engagement isn’t real, but I want to keep that information private. Nonna always wanted me to find someone.”
Nico rolled his eyes, shaking his head. “Yeah, you were always her favorite.”
Marco thinned his lips. Arguing that statement was beneath him, because it had always been true. Nonna loved all her grandchildren but favored Marco many times, trying to compensate for the tragic loss of their mother and the absence of his father. “I needed her the most.”
Nico jammed his hand into his suit then leaned against the doorjamb. They never dwelled on the past much, and Marco preferred it that way. Why worry about what couldn’t change? “You didn’t tell me because I’d do the math and know who she was.”
“Yeah.”
“Why Lily, though? I mean she’s gorgeous, got a fabulous rack—”
Marco lifted his hand in objection. “You better stop right there, brother. Don’t talk about her that way.”
Nico gave him a slow nod, his brows furrowing like he was trying hard to understand. What was there to grasp? The situation was quite simple, actually. “How did this whole thing happen?” Nico asked. “Did she ask you to quit trying to buy her salon? How about her bills?”
“I paid them.” He’d signed a contract to take care of half of them upon her signature and the other half at the end of their contract. Five days ago, he’d emailed his lawyer and asked him to use his power of attorney and pay the remaining debt. It’d be one less thing to worry about when the time came to say goodbye to Lily.
“You paid them,” Nico said, running a hand down his face. “Of course you did.”
Why did his brother mock him like he was some kind of stupid fool? He felt like a geeky kid with a crush on the cheerleader. “It’s between me and her. I forbid you to mention any of this to her or anyone else. We know gossip runs like wildfire in this family, and I don’t want Nonna to find out. It won’t be good for her, which would defeat the whole purpose.”
“Don’t worry, Marco. Your secret is safe with me.”
“Thank you.”
“You fell for her, didn’t you?”
Marco frowned. “Excuse me?”
“You were always fond of your little contracts or fuck agreements. You always made sure women wouldn’t screw you over after the affair ended. Confidentiality agreement, all that show,” Nico said. “The old Marco would never let a woman come between him and his work.”
Marco’s heart heaved. His brother had completely lost it. He hadn’t fallen for Lily. He ran his fingers through his hair, searching for an appropriate way to say he’d purchased her heavenly pussy for the month. “I can’t tell you all the details of our deal, but I guarantee you I don’t love her,” he said, and for some odd reason his voice lost energy at the end, the thickness in his throat making it hard to choke out the words.
Nico chuckled. “Listen, you don’t have to worry. I won’t tell anyone. You know… I’ve seen how you look at her. Hell, you almost punched me for mentioning her breasts a few seconds ago, when in the past you wouldn’t even care if I dated someone you had screwed.”
Marco plopped on the bed, defeated like someone just told him his dog had died. Couldn’t be. “Lily is different. I enjoy being with her. I’m addicted to her, but that’s the extent of it,” he said out loud, unsure if to himself or his brother.
Nico sat next to him and patted his back. “It’s okay, bro. Zaine got married. Now you. I need to watch out for the signs, so I can skip the same doomed fate.”
Married? Marco snorted. No wonder he’d never told his brother about their deal. Nico enjoyed twisting facts to his advantage. “We aren’t getting married.”
Nico tapped his back, consoling him. “Sure.”
Marco jerked away and rose to his feet. Enough mockery. “It’s not funny. Get out,” he said, pointing toward the door.
Nico stood and made his way out, keeping a smile on his face that Marco felt like punching away. Idiota. His brother knew nothing about him, Lily, or what went on between them.
…
“Happy Birthday, Debora,” Lily said to his grandmother, gently kissing her cheek. She’d bought a small gift in town in the morning, which she’d added to the mountain of presents at the table. The party organizer had done an amazing job. Pictures of each decade of Nonna’s life had been enlarged and displayed on stands across the living room. Even though Lily guessed about eighty guests were in attendance, the soft lighting and textured drapes smoothed the ambience and gave it a quainter atmosphere.
“Thank you, dear. It’s ‘Nonna’ for you. After all, you’re about to become family.”
Lily managed a smile and allowed the person next to her to greet Nonna. She’d been downstairs for one hour, and still no sign of Marco. How long did it take him to get ready?
During the past few days, she’d grown used to watching him shave his chin and cheeks, brushing his hair. She’d helped Arietta with her dress; ever since their chat, his cousin had been really nice to her. How ironic his family members warmed up to her and treated her as if she’d joined the gang, when it was all useless if Marco didn’t. Tonight would be their last in Italy, and in a matter of days, she’d no longer be needed to warm his bed.
Nico walked by her, carrying a flute of champagne and talking to a beautiful woman who strolled beside him. Lily lifted her hand to greet him, and he raised his flute with a kind smile. For the first time since he’d met him, he didn’t seem like he saw right through her lies. Either I’m getting better at it, or he’s already drunk.
A waitress offered her some bubbly, and she took it. Why not? She drank it in one gulp, a refreshing sensation rolling down her throat, loosening her limbs.
“Excuse me,” said a man behind her.
She turned to find Marco’s father. She hadn’t seen much of him, thankfully, during her stay. After all she heard about him, she had to gather her strength to keep from slapping his face. Her blood still boiled in her veins. “Yes?”
“I met you on the first night. You’re Marco’s bride-to-be.”
Wishful thinking. She lifted her chin. “That’s right.”
“I regret we haven’t talked much.”
“Do you also regret not talking to your son?” she said, and immediately second-guessed her spontaneity. But shit, it was too late. She cleared her throat, stretching to her full height so the tall man wouldn’t intimidate her. “I can’t help but notice the two of you have barely exchanged any words in the last few days.”
Calogero’s face didn’t give away much. Unlike his sons, he wasn’t very expressive. When he spoke, he kept his eyes hooded, his expression neutral. “Patricia, is it? You’re quite forthcoming, given you just met me.”
“I know enough about you.”
“Ah. Marco’s musings,” he said, his wrinkles creasing around his eyes. “His world turned upside when his mother died, and our relationship never recovered from it. Doesn’t mean I don’t wish him well. I keep my distance because we don’t have a lot in common anymore.”
“A lot in common? He’s your son,” she said, remembering her sweet father and how they could look at each other and know what the other was thinking. They didn’t always agree on everything, but when it came down to it, he had her back.
“Yes, he is, and you obviously feel passionately about him. I wondered about you, a woman who came out of nowhere and managed to catch him. I hope you know what you signed up for. Marco isn’t so easy to get along with on a day-to-day basis.”
“How would you know? You two haven’t talked in forever, and when he was a child and needed you the most, you preferred to be a coward and blame him for your wife’s death.”
He glanced around them, as if to ensure no one watched them, and said in a steady tone, “Stop there, young lady. I’ve been generous in entertaining your out-of-line suggestions. It has to come to an end.”
“You know what? Your wife had a condition, but you’re the one who’s sick. Now, if you’ll excuse me,” she said, seeing red at the corner of her eyes as she strode through the crowd. Thankfully, because of the live band, none of the guests should have heard them. Unless someone saw them talking and read their body language, she was okay.
She didn’t give two shits about what Marco’s father thought about her, but she didn’t want to ruin Nonna’s birthday party. Arietta waved at her, and she hung out with some of the cousins, listening to funny stories about their childhood. She pretended to engage, but every so often she scanned the living area, searching for Marco. What if she confessed that she’d told his father off? God. Maybe she shouldn’t. He would hate her.
He’d hate her for licking his emotional wounds and making a big deal about it. He might even send me away, or cut our deal short. One of the clauses in the contract stated he had the right to terminate the affair at any time without any particular reason. She’d still get her end of the bargain, but he’d reserved that right.
“Everything okay?” Arietta asked, pulling her from her worst-case-scenario pondering.
“Yeah, why?”
“You seem preoccupied.”
“I’m wondering what Marco is up to. I haven’t seen him for a while.” Damn him. It was the party that had brought them to Italy, and now he disappeared?
“Oh, he’s right there,” she said, pointing at the opposite side of terrace. “He’s been talking to Nonna for the past twenty minutes.”
Twenty minutes. Had he seen her talking with his father? If he doesn’t mention anything, I won’t. She had to deal with saying goodbye to his family, to Italy, a place she probably wouldn’t visit again. People she wouldn’t ever see again. The notion stiffened her entire body. God, she had a hard time letting go of things.
During the rest of the party, she went through the motions. Family members made toasts and honored Debora. Dinner was served, and then the butler produced a huge cake. People ate, drank, laughed. She managed to keep good spirits and smile often to mask her growing sadness.
Going to the States meant she no longer needed to pretend to be Marco’s fiancée. Damn it, she’d enjoyed the farce so much that she ended up believing in it.
After she and Marco said their goodbyes, they retreated to their suite. She opened the door to the balcony, staring at the lake. Stars peppered the dark sky, as the half-moon graced the night with all of her beauty.
Marco embraced her from behind, his arms sneaking around her, and she melted into him. “Who do you want to be tonight?” he whispered against her neck, causing all kinds of delicious tingles.
“I want us to be Lily and Marco,” she said. She loved their games, their role plays, their creativity, but in the middle of so many lies, she needed to be true to the reality—he, Marco Giordano, was the man who weakened her knees. Who owned her heart, even if he didn’t know it.
She turned around, glancing at him. He outlined her lips with his index finger, then when she thought he’d kiss her, he didn’t. He traced the contours of her face as if using his hand to imprint the memory of her features in his mind. Maybe this was as hard for him as for her.
She entertained the notion, the impossible hope growing and rooting inside her like well-kept lawn. Resolute, she clung to the idea, adamant on showing him with her body how right they were for each other. She leaned into his caress, offering her entire being to him.
He dipped his head and captured her lips with his. The kiss grew slowly, steadily, provoking her body endlessly. Her nipples tightened; her pulse ran out of control. He caught her in his arms, much like a newlywed groom would, but with more hunger. A groan escaped his mouth, the primitive sound making her clit throb. She linked her arms around his head, intensifying the kiss, upping sexual anticipation between them.
Even when they tried to keep their hormones in check, the crazy, red-hot desire showed them who was in charge. He didn’t lay her on the bed like the end of a fairy tale. He held her against the column of one of the embellished arches of the room. He nibbled her upper lip, then released it with a popping sound. She squirmed, already so aroused.
He hiked up her dress, provoking goose bumps on her bare flesh. She held him tighter, not wanting to let go. He rested his forehead against hers, and they shared a sigh. “You’re extraordinary, Lily,” he said. “Don’t you ever forget it.”
“You, too,” she said, and fumbled to remove his jacket, her fingers trembling to open the buttons. Impatient, she held both sides of his crisp white shirt and ripped it apart. Hell, this was their last night in Italy. She had to show him how she felt about him.
He let out a growl, kissing her again, their tongues clashing, lips melding. She plastered herself to him, loving the feel of his warm, salty skin against hers. He reached to the zipper of her dress and lowered it until it reached her waist, bunching the fabric. Getting rid of the silk between her chest and his, she moaned, like her body had found a safe haven. A thrill shot from her breasts to the rest of her. She rubbed her breasts on his hair-dusted pecs, stealing a groan from him.
“If you were a drink, I’d be an alcoholic,” he whispered.
“Marco…” she murmured, but he silenced her with the most ravenous kiss she’d ever received. She squirmed into him, breathless, so eager for him. He put his hands under her ass, lifting her up, and without disengaging from her mouth, took both of them to the bed. She fell on top of him, overwhelmed.
She kept him down and lifted herself enough to straddle him and nibble his chin. He lifted his own mouth to kiss her, but she withdrew, pushing him back into the mattress. “Let me fuck you.”
She slid her hand down his body, snaking it into his pants. Without wasting time to unbuckle and remove them completely, she lowered them along with his boxers enough—to his knees—and clasped his glorious cock. Didn’t matter how many times she’d seen it… She loved that massive rod. She loved him.
She squeezed it, earning a deep moan from him.
“You’re torturing me.”
“Now you know what it’s like to be me.”
“I’ve known for a while,” he said, and put her hand over his heart. She spread her fingers over it, feeling his pulse race madly, and a rush of adrenaline went through her. She—her touch, her presence—had an effect on him. What if she affected him more than she imagined?
Yelping with excitement, she lowered herself to him, planting little pecks on his nose, cheeks, and forehead. She moved her hand, touching his cock again, positioning him close to her then impaling herself with his massive dick. Oh, how she loved having him throb against her pussy, occupying every inch of her sex, branding her even when he wasn’t trying. Filling her. Completing her.
“I love you, Marco.” The truth escaped her mouth as she began to ride him. Her hand flew to her lips, and she realized it was too late to take it back.