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Maggie chuckled. “Part of my job. You’re the star, though. You’re the one who’s beautiful.”
Michael watched his sister blush and squirm in delight. His body shook slightly, as if preparing for a lockdown. How was she able to see exactly what his sister needed? Yes, she was a woman, but she’d always touted herself as disconnected from the usual woman stuff. Cooking, gossipy chatter, kids, domestic scenes. Yet, she offered his sibling a compliment that simply came from her soul, with no thought to sugarcoat or be fake.
Michael leaned down and pressed a kiss to Carina’s head. Then he looked into the eyes of a girl who was no longer a girl. “She’s right, you know. You are beautiful. And yes, Maggie, you can use it.”
The sudden emotion choked at his throat until he made himself turn abruptly and disappear down the hallway. Damned if he didn’t need a moment to get himself together.
Chapter Eight
She was approved to be married in a civil ceremony right now. Today. This moment.
Maggie sank down in the luxurious bubbles and blew out a breath. A spray of foam shot up and sprinkled the air with tiny pockets that caught the last rays of light and shimmered. She wiggled her feet, propped up her legs on the sides, and soaked.
Their visit to the court office in Milan terrorized her. Talking about a fake marriage was one thing; actually filing papers was another. After obtaining the Atto Notorio with two witnesses, they obtained their Nulla Osta—the final declaration of their intent to marry—after stacks of paperwork were approved, notarized, and filed.
Maggie groaned. Because of Michael’s high-ranking and well-known contacts, his mother had eased the paperwork chain so they were able to take care of everything in one busy afternoon. Maggie lifted up her hand and looked again at the cheery sparkle of the diamond ring encircling her finger. Michael’s plan seemed foolproof. He’d string his mother along for the next few months until Venezia was safely married, then advise them of a terrible fallout and their breakup.
Messy, but necessary. Maggie gave a deep sigh as the delicious scent of sandalwood calmed her senses. It was truly amazing the lengths Michael was going through just to help his sister, and his actions bespoke a respect for his mother that touched her. Instead of waving off her crazy demands that he marry and allowing his sister to take the brunt, he’d composed a plan to make everyone happy.
Except himself.
Her skin tingled and she rested a hand on the swell of her breast, stroking gently. What type of woman would make Michael happy? Someone sweet and undemanding? Or would he get terribly bored within the month? And why did she care so much?
Because she wanted him.
The truth slammed into her like a rear-end jolt. Yes, she’d always known they had sexual chemistry. But sleeping in the same bed, seeing him in his element, was doing terrible things to her. She craved to finally sate her appetite and be done with it. After all, if her track record was any indication, she’d be happily satisfied by morning and could move on. Nothing was worse than that empty, gnawing feeling in her stomach when she rolled over and realized the man next to her was not The One. Would never be The One. Surely, a good bout of healthy, satisfying sex would finally quiet her hormones.
But what about Alexa?
She nibbled on her lower lip at the thought. He may want to deny it, but he loved her best friend. Of course, after this trip, he’d finally stay far away from Alexa and her family, and Maggie wouldn’t need to worry he’d muck things up.
It was just sex. They played at being married anyway, so it might give their ruse a bit of punch. Nobody would ever need to know. They were adults and could handle a strictly physical relationship.
She wanted to have sex with Michael Conte. Excitement slithered down her spine. Her ni**les pebbled under the slap of water. She wouldn’t be settling for second best because, once again, the bargain was on her terms. Her rules.
Oh, yeah.
Her fantasy exploded in front of her when the door opened.
A girlish yelp escaped her lips. She slithered farther down underneath the bubbles and hastily pulled back her leg from the edge. Michael strode in, a glass of white wine in one hand, a plate with a luscious crème puff in the other, and a full, wicked grin curving his lips.
“Buon giorno, cara. Are you enjoying your bath?”
She spluttered and tried hard not to blush like a schoolgirl. “Are you kidding me? What are you doing here? As most married women would state, I have a headache.”
He had the audacity to chuckle. “Ah, I have heard that expression before. We just uncorked one of our best bottles of pinot grigio, and I thought you’d enjoy a sip while you soak.”
She frowned. “Well, okay. Thanks.” Maggie grabbed the half-filled glass and breathed in the scent of lemony citrus and tangy oak. “You can put the plate over there.”
He set it on the small ledge at the end of the tub and stared at her. Refusing to squirm under his open, hot stare, she glared right back, sticking her lip out to blow some stray wet strands of hair out of her eyes. “You can go now.”
He sat down on the small lip a few inches away. He’d changed out of his suit and looked crisp and casual in worn jeans and a white button-down shirt. His feet were bare and his hair fell loose to his shoulders, which somehow made him even sexier. His presence squeezed out all the breath in the room and left none for her. Already that familiar zing tried to stab her like some sort of Sex Superhero. What was with that?
She waited him out but since she was the naked one, he didn’t seem to feel the need to make conversation. “What are you still doing here?”
“I thought we’d chat.”
“Fine. Strip off your clothes and let’s talk.”
He didn’t move, but his features shifted and suddenly, he was all hot male predator. “Sure about that request?”
Damn, her usual snarky comments were having the wrong effect. Why wasn’t he walking away? A light of challenge gleamed within his eyes, and in horror, her body lit to life. The water swished between her open thighs. Her ni**les hardened beneath the bubbles. She caught her breath as his gaze deliberately dropped and caressed her hidden, naked form. What the hell was going on?
She changed tactics. “What do you want to talk about?”
“Our deal.”
Maggie shrugged. “Thought we were on course. Papers are filed so your mom knows we’re legit. Did you see how she asked a zillion questions to make sure everything was in order? She’s a crafty one.”
