The Marriage Trap

Sheer pleasure rushed through her as Carina walked over with confidence. And by the reaction of all three men on the stage, well, she’d hit her mark perfectly.



“You look gorgeous,” Maggie said. She touched the girl’s springy black curls. “Do you like it?”



Carina nodded furiously. “I can’t believe I look like this.”



Maggie smiled. “I do. And I think my men agree.”



Carina blushed and shifted her feet, then snuck a glance at the models. The men looked suddenly enchanted with the girl who had practically been ignored before her transformation. Maggie suspected the look of lusty innocence was a rare combination, and her confidence being ratcheted up was like a siren call to men. Nothing more attractive than a woman who liked herself. But something else in their current expression pulled at her, an emotion she rarely caught on a male’s face, and—



Lightbulb.



Maggie ignored her galloping heart as a rush of adrenaline took hold. The perfect shot. Right there in front of her. “Come with me.” She grabbed Carina’s hand and dragged her up to the set. With quick movements, she rearranged the set, moved her camera, and adjusted the lighting. “Decklan, Roberto, Paolo, this is Carina. She’s now in the shoot with you.”



“What?” Carina squeaked.



She positioned Carina to the edge of the stage and cast her in shadow. “Cross your arms like this.” Maggie adjusted Carina’s pose to lean against the wall in a casual stance. “Now, look out the window as if you’re dreaming of something. Something that makes you happy. Don’t worry, your features will be blurred and your figure in shadow. Okay?”



“But I can’t—”



“Please?”



Carina shook a bit, then slowly nodded. Her features tense, she tried to give Maggie what she wanted. Maggie whirled back to the models and lined them up in a jagged line. The slight bulges in their underwear didn’t embarrass her—in fact, it was exactly what had been missing in the shot. “Listen up. Your target is her.” She pointed to Carina, who looked stiff and uncomfortable. “Imagine what it would be like to approach her, to give her her first kiss, to make her feel like a woman. That’s what I want. Now.”



She grabbed her camera and pressed the shutter release. Calling out instructions, she moved like a madwoman to capture the element of the elusive . . . of innocence . . . wanting . . . temptation. It was more than a shot about pretty-looking underwear. This was about buying an emotion.



As the time ticked, her surroundings faded away. Finally, something flickered across Carina’s face. A small smile rested on her face. The men shifted, studied her, and then—



Click.



Got it.



Satisfaction surged and her body loosened with relief. “We’re done. That’s a wrap.”



A combined shout of approval rose from the models and staff. Maggie grinned with pleasure, turned on her heel, and came face-to-face with her husband.



Uh-oh.



He stood before her in a black Armani suit, a crisp royal-blue shirt, and bright red tie. His perfectly controlled posture contradicted the seething emotions in those dark eyes. His gaze deliberately raked over her, then swept back to the stage. Carina’s chuckle drifted in the air and Maggie didn’t have to turn to know she was probably talking and flirting with Decklan. A supermodel in tiny briefs.



She was so screwed.



Fear rushed through her and caused her back to straighten in pure rebellion of the messy emotion. “I can explain.”



His voice came out whisper-soft and rattled her nerve endings. “I’m sure you can.”



Why did he seem rough around the edges? As if he called for a woman to dive beneath the polish and discover all that primitive maleness beneath? He grew up with money, a good family, and relatively few problems. She didn’t resent it, but most men she met with staid backgrounds left her cold and a bit flat. Not Michael. It would take ages to discover all his layers, and she’d bet he’d still keep surprising her. Fortunately, she had no intention of getting to know anything about his Italian temper.



Her mouth worked to spit the words out. “Well, I decided to treat Carina to a makeover while I worked so she wouldn’t have to see the models in their underwear, because I knew you wouldn’t be too happy about that.”



He snapped his voice like a whip. “And that is why I saw her on the stage with the same naked models. Because of your protection.”



She winced. This wasn’t coming out the way she’d planned. “You didn’t let me finish. And they’re not naked. So I was having a terrible time getting the shot I needed. Then Carina came out, and she was so happy about her appearance, and so much more confident . . . the men got this look on their faces, it was quite incredible, really—I’ve never seen anything so pure in this business, and I knew I had to capture the expression in order to get something fresh.”



“Pure?” His brow hiked up and fury sparked from his eyes. “You put my baby sister in your shot to be gawked at by strange naked men in order to capture purity? Is this your defense, Maggie? Would you sacrifice anything just to sell a few ads?”



Whoa. Her fear melted away. How dare he? She sneered and threw her head back. “They. Are. Not. Naked. You’re twisting my words, Count. As for sacrifice, it seems I’m willing to do a lot of that in the name of true love. Even have a fake marriage with you.”



He pushed his face toward hers and hissed under his breath. “You didn’t do it for true love, cara. Don’t ever forget you got your pound of flesh for this bargain.”



“Oh, yeah, so sorry I won’t let you pant all over my sister-in-law and make moony eyes at her from across the room.”



His mouth fell open. “You are crazy. I told you over and over I am not in love with Alexa. It is your delusions and need to control everything around you. And what does this have to do with Carina and your bit of exhibitionism?”



“I cast her in shadow; no one will really see her face. I would never expose her to anything inappropriate.”



His body shook with hot male frustration. “You already did!”



“Michael?” Carina flew between them and gave her brother a big hug. The affection and worry in his gaze clearly showed Maggie he did not know how to deal with his youngest sister growing up. “Did you see me up there, Michael?” she squealed. “I was a real model.”



“You were wonderful, cara.” His hand gently touched her springy curls. “Who did this?”



“I got a makeover. You should have seen Maggie work, I’ve never been at a shoot before and it was ultracool. Now I may be in the real ad, and the models are supernice. Decklan invited me to dinner with some of the other models and—”



“Absolutely not.” His brows came together in a fierce frown. “I’m glad you had fun, but the shoot is now over. You will not be going out with some strange men you don’t know. Besides, you’re babysitting for Uncle Brian tonight.”



Maggie opened her mouth to say something, then quickly shut it. Hell, no, she would not get involved. This wasn’t her real sister-in-law. She was not in Michael’s family. She was not really his wife.



Carina glared. “I babysit for Uncle Brian almost every Saturday night while other people date.”



Michael rubbed a hand over his face. “I will not argue with you on this point. Now be a good girl and wash your face, get back to normal, and let’s go. We have an appointment at the consulate soon.”



Silence.



Maggie winced. Oh, this was bad. Very bad. Like an oncoming train wreck, she watched Carina’s face fall at his comment. Carina pressed a trembling hand to her mouth in order to stop herself from crying, but her voice came out broken and wispy. “Why can’t you see I’m not a baby and respect me? I wish you’d never come back to Italy!”



She walked out of the studio and a door slammed in the distance.



Maggie closed her eyes. Ah, crap.



Michael shook his head and let out a litany of creative phrases in Italian. He paced and muttered, and Maggie gave him wide berth, because she didn’t know at the moment whether to hug him since he looked so frickin’ lost, or slap him in the hope he gained some sense.



She decided to compromise.



She jumped in front of his quickly moving feet and he almost barreled into her. “Michael—”



“What did I do now? Huh? Is it so wrong to deny her to go off on a drunken fest with a bunch of naked male models to be lost forever? We are one of the richest families in Italy. She’s too young! She could be kidnapped and ransomed. And why did she look so different? She always babysits for Brian and said she loved doing it. Suddenly, she wants to change her routine and prowl the town so someone can kidnap her? Absolutely not.”



Maggie mashed her lips together. The absurdity of his comments struck her hard, and she tamped down on her instinct to burst out laughing. Her powerful count was really a crabby Papa Bear, not wanting to deal with the reality of his sister flying the coop. At twenty-one she’d been running her own life, and no one had cared whom she went out with and if she came home at night. She coughed into her hand and concentrated on trying to look serious. “Well, I agree, I wouldn’t let her go on a drunken fest either.”



He narrowed his eyes as if daring her to mock him.



She threw up her hands in defense. “Hey, it sounds like babysitting four rambunctious nephews would be a blast, but the girl got invited to dinner with a nice, handsome man and wants to go. You can’t blame her for asking.”



He practically gasped. “You would let her go?”



“I would let her go with provisions,” she corrected. “I don’t know the group well enough to let her go alone, either. But I do have a close friend who could join them. She has a daughter Carina’s age, whom I think Carina would get along with. I usually visit Sierra when I’m in Milan, and she’s someone I trust. I don’t know if she’s free today, but I can make the call. She can chaperone, and drive her home after dinner. If not, then I agree with you completely—she shouldn’t go alone. But at least it looks as if you are trying to compromise.”



He practically moaned. “How does Mama handle her temper? Carina is usually so calm and reserved. What’s happening to her? Why won’t she listen?”



Maggie gentled her voice. “Why are you trying so hard to keep her from growing up?”



He lifted his head. For a moment, she caught a glimpse of grief and fear in the blue-black depths of his eyes. She touched his hard cheek, needing the contact of skin on skin.



“I made a promise not to fail.”



His words rose to her ears in a whisper of sound. Her heart squeezed but she pressed further, needing to delve deeper. “Who did you make a promise to, Michael?”



“My father. Before he died.” The normal confidence he carried faltered. “I’m responsible for them all.”



The realization of the weight he carried on those broad shoulders hit her full force. She’d never imagined someone could take the words so literally, but it seemed Michael believed every success and failure of his family rested on him. The sheer stress and pressure of making decisions for them all blew her mind.