The Marriage Mistake

“But—”



He disappeared down the hall. Carina shuddered and buried her face with her hands. No way could she stay here. All night? She’d break, tiptoe into his room, and seduce him. Especially now that she experienced a taste. His earthy, musky scent, the rough stubble scraping across the tender peak of her breast, the silky thrust of his tongue as he claimed her mouth, the flavorful sting of cognac.



She locked up the memory. She mustn’t make a mistake. Not until she was alone and able to assess the situation. Make a new plan. Right now, she needed him to feel as comfortable and unthreatened as possible.



Carina moved to the living room and sat on the thick cream carpet in front of the fire. Her flesh warmed from the heat of the flames, and she deliberately relaxed her muscles in an effort to slow down her heartbeat. Rocky slunk back into the living room and plopped down beside her. Murmuring soothing words of how beautiful he was, she stroked his damaged ear and sent him to doggy heaven when her fingers found his canine sweet spot.



Carina admitted she was quite jealous.



“Put these on.” Max thrust a large T-shirt, sweat socks, and a flannel robe at her. Rocky kicked out his legs and growled in protest. She laughed, scratched his belly one last time, and went to change.



Her gaze took in the elegant lines of his mansion. Like Michael, he’d earned a fortune building La Dolce Maggie, and his style proved both expensive and tasteful. The rooms screamed single male, from the spartan decor to the fully stocked bar and game room. The televisions were theater sized, and comfortable leather sofas and recliners, complete with beer cup holders, framed the action. One peek in his kitchen showed pristine ceramic tile, cherry cabinets, and sleek stainless steel appliances. Not a dish in the sink. Either he had a cook, a maid, or ate out every night.



She changed quickly and rejoined him in the living room, sitting in her previous spot. The wood crackled and she pulled her feet up, tucked the robe over her knees, and stared into the flames.



His gaze bore into her back but she remained silent, letting him speak first. Rocky padded over and with a doggy yawn, he rested his massive head in her lap.



“You were right.”



His words came out with a grudging respect. She tilted her head in question and faced him. “About what?”



Max sat in the leather chair with a snifter of cognac at his elbow. He studied her face as if probing for an answer. “About Laura. She hated Rocky.”



She hid a satisfied smirk. “Told you.”



“How did you know?”



“Saw her in the parking lot terrified of a stray dog. Her true personality emerged. She’s not used to children or dogs or a mess. She views only the surface so a dog like Rocky would’ve freaked her out.”



He let out a strangled laugh and took a sip of his cognac. “Yeah, you always did have a canny instinct with people. Remember Julietta’s friend in high school? You called her out immediately.”



The memory hit her and she smiled. “I’d forgotten about that. I knew she was only pretending to be Julietta’s friend to get close to Michael.”



“Michael was happy. She was hot.”



She rolled her eyes. “Oh, please. You thought any female who walked on two legs was hot. Discretion wasn’t one of your assets.”



“I disagree. Damn, Julietta was pissed off, though. Refused to let Michael date her as just punishment so they both suffered.”



Carina sighed and dropped her chin on her knees. “Julietta wasn’t used to people using her. I became so skilled, I learned how to spot deceit a mile away.”



“Who would want to lie to you?”



“Stupid boys. Every time a boy in school liked me and asked me out, I discovered he only wanted to get to Venezia or Julietta.” She forced a laugh but the memory still stung, to know how she was always ranked third best. To realize her personality was a big bore compared to quirkiness, sexiness, or razor-sharp intelligence. To be reminded time after time she couldn’t trust the simple question of a man asking her out, because she always suspected of being used. But no longer. She’d worked hard to build up her confidence and become the woman she always wanted to be. Carina shrugged it off. “Comes with the territory. Part of having two gorgeous older sisters, I guess.”



“Seems to me you’re a long way from that little girl who didn’t believe in herself.”



His comment startled her. She snuggled deeper into the comfy plaid robe. “I know. That’s why coming to America has been so important. It’s not just about working for La Dolce Maggie—it’s about having the freedom to find out who I am.” The fire flickered and warmed her as well as the light in Max’s eyes. Like he understood. Like he’d been there. “If I tried to go in a new direction, my family was always there ready to yank me back from disaster. I wasn’t able to make my own mistakes. My dates were scrutinized, my studies were mandatory, and I think I lost my way. This is my opportunity to grow and experience the world on my terms. I wake up in my own apartment with no one to please but myself. I earn my own money, pay my own rent, and don’t apologize or have to make excuses.”



Max winced. “I’m sorry, Carina. Bergamo is our home, but I know what it feels like to be pigeonholed. Hard to try anything new without the whole town coming down in judgment.”



“Exactly.” A smile curved her lips. “I remember when my girlfriend and I snuck into one of those underground clubs. We wanted to get drunk and flirt with cute boys, have some fun. The moment we ordered our drinks, Father Richard spotted me and told the bartender I was underage.”



“Are you kidding me?”



“No, he was out of uniform, and I guess he’s a pretty good dancer. I never looked at him the same again, and Mama skinned my hide big-time when she found out.”



“Poor baby. No way to be bad.”



“And no one to be bad with.”



The tension twisted between them. Rocky moaned as if he caught the undercurrent and lifted his head. The kiss hung in the air like a hooker at the Queen’s table. Totally in your face and nowhere to subtly hide.



Suddenly, the emotions of the night crashed upon her. A draining weariness took hold of her body, and tears burned her lids. So stupid. She needed to get out of here before her entire plan crumbled and Max realized she was just a big baby.



She rose to her feet and tightened the robe around her. Her voice came out husky but she avoided his gaze. “I’m going to bed. I’m exhausted. Which bedroom should I use?”



“Top of the stairs. First one on the left.”



“Thank you.”



She moved past him, breath held, but he made no move to stop her. When her foot hit the first step his words drifted to her ears in a caress. “Those men were assholes, Carina. You were always gorgeous.”



She bit her lip. Clenched the railing. And refused to answer.



• • •



Carina studied the canvas in front of her and fought the need to hurl something at the nearest wall.



She was officially physically and creatively frustrated.



Her teeth chewed on her lower lip. It had taken her years to finally control her famous emotions. From tantrums to crying jags, she’d always felt things more deeply than the rest of her family. Now, she was proud of her restraint and ability to engage without the force field of drama around her. Unfortunately, some of the loss of emotion escaped from her painting, and she needed to find a way to get back in touch with her artistic diva.



Muttering under her breath, she opened up the windows to let some fresh air circulate and pumped up the volume of Usher. The grindy, sexy tempo urged her to explore something deeper in her art, but she wasn’t sure what. At least, not yet. Her usual portraits seemed blasé, and she had no interest in landscapes.



She let her thoughts float as she attacked the white space with some blinding color. It was funny how, even as frustrated as she was now, there was a sense of satisfaction never present when she was in the office. For so long, she’d worked toward one goal: dazzle her family with her business skills, make them take notice, ultimately securing her own place in the company. Her ease with accounting only made it easier to continue on the path, and though she enjoyed the people at La Dolce Maggie and the many aspects of the business world, most of it remained flat.



Her dream of a career in the art world caused her family and friends to pat her on the head and encourage her hobby. Gut instinct told her it could be more than that with a little work, but she never had the confidence to buck the system. It seemed so much easier to finish her master’s and settle.



Gloominess settled over her like Pooh’s rain cloud. If she didn’t toughen up, Michael would give up on her and she’d disappoint her family. She tried so hard to be firm, but when she heard the tender stories from people, her mushy heart betrayed her. She knew her assets well: figures and her motivation to work hard. Yet it seemed many of the qualities revered in being a good person rarely were appreciated in the business world.



Max ruled La Dolce Maggie as well as her brother. Their no-nonsense resolve brooked no argument from competitors, yet they were generous and friendly to the employees. She couldn’t even blame their success on being men, since Julietta was the female version of them and ruled La Dolce Famiglia with an iron fist and high heels.



The thought of spending years cooped up in a suit jacket behind a desk prickled her nerves with dread. Half of the fun came from her interactions, but most of them ended up with her covering or saving someone’s ass. She didn’t mind, but Max was getting suspicious. Soon it may come to light that her management skills kind of sucked.



Max.



The memory of their kiss jolted her like an amusement park ride. God, it had been so hot. That forceful tongue, the way he took control of the kiss, the way he pushed up her dress and challenged her with his stare to stop him. It was everything she’d dreamed of in a sexual encounter, and of course, it had to be with the man she was done with.



Fate had a terrible sense of humor.



She added fuchsia and kept the lines bold as she painted freestyle to relax. Not that he’d mentioned the kiss or even acknowledged the evening. One week had passed and he avoided being alone with her at all costs. Her lips curved at the thought. Big, bad Maximus Gray, scared to spend too much time with innocent me.



Damned if she hadn’t given him something to think about also. There was no way she imagined that type of explosive chemistry. His erection proved his interest, but he was probably terrified Michael would kill him for taking his sister for a test drive. Coward.



The idea exploded through her head. The brush paused midair.



A one-night stand.



The image of a naked Max thrusting her to orgasm made her clench her thighs together. Why not? She had no interest in him long term, and planned to find her own man. But perhaps one night of releasing their sexual tension could help both of them. She’d be free of that silly worship she held as a girl and be able to experience her fantasy. Michael never had to know, and she’d convince Max it was just for one night. No recriminations or future or questions.



She was also much more realistic. No, she’d ripped off the blinders and planned like the woman she now was. Just one perfect, orgasm-filled night with Max and she’d be able to walk away.