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Suddenly, Michael’s gaze sharpened on her face. As if he sensed her impending collapse, he made a quick excuse, then dragged her out of the room. Maggie shuddered as the waves of adrenaline surged through her and stole her sanity. They reached the bedroom, and Michael guided her to the bed, pushing her head down between her knees. The instinct to fight the fear of losing control made her reaction worse. She clenched her fists and gasped for air. She was about to scream in helplessness when Michael’s strong hands and voice shredded through the fog and commanded her attention.
“Listen to me, Maggie. Breathe. Slow and steady. You will be all right; I have you and I won’t let anything happen to you. Give up your control and let yourself go.” His hands rubbed her back in gentle motions, and his fingers interlaced with hers in a show of strength. She focused on his voice and clung to the solid weight of his words. She gave in to the feelings twisting inside of her and finally, her lungs clutched air. The clock ticked, and her heart slowed, allowing the breath to release back into her body. All the while, Michael kept talking to her, low nonsense that soothed her and brought her from the brink. Finally, she lifted her head.
He pressed his forehead against hers and cupped her cheeks. “Better, cara?” His fathomless onyx eyes drilled into hers with worry and a deeper emotion she didn’t recognize.
Maggie nodded. Emotion surged, a strange mixture of tenderness and need she never experienced. Too afraid to speak, she reveled in the stroke of his hand down her cheek and the warm rush of breath over her lips.
“Let me get you some water. Stay there and just relax. We will work this out.”
He left the room and came back and gave her tiny sips of cold, fresh water that trickled down her raw throat. A calmness settled over her. She was safe. Somehow, some way, she trusted him. First with her body.
Now her heart.
“I guess the thought of marrying me wasn’t very tasteful,” he said dryly.
She sputtered a laugh. “Didn’t mean to hit your ego, Count. Just something about legally marrying my fake husband in front of his family threw me for a second.”
He sighed and dragged his hands over his face. “This is very bad.”
“You think? I feel like your mother is the hitman from the movie The Marrying Man. Remember when the mobster made them get married because they had sex?” She moaned. “We never should have gone to bed together. Somehow, we’re being punished. We have to tell your mother the truth.”
She waited for his nod, but instead he shot her a strange look. “I do not know this movie, and my family is not Mafia.”
She rolled her eyes. “Well, duh! Why do I feel like you’re not on the same page as me?”
“What page?”
Lord, sometimes she forgot how many American expressions he didn’t understand. “Never mind. Why aren’t you horrified?”
“I am! I’m just thinking of all the angles. Look, cara, my mother is sick. The doctor said to avoid all stress and give her anything she asks for. If I tell her the truth now, she may end up having a heart attack.”
Maggie’s heart lurched at the thought of being responsible for Mama Conte. She nibbled at her lower lip. “Michael, what are you asking me?”
His gaze drilled into hers. Each word struck her like nails driven into her proverbial coffin. “I want you to marry me.” He paused. “For real.”
She jumped up from the bed. “What? We can’t do this. Are you crazy? We’ll be legally married. When we get back to the States, we’ll have to go through an annulment or divorce or something. Oh, my God, this is insane. How is this happening? I’m trapped in a frickin’ romance novel!”
“Calm down.” He crossed the room and snagged her hands. “Listen to me, Maggie. I will take care of everything. No one else has to know. We’ll say our vows, have a party, and leave for home. I’ll take care of all the paperwork and expenses. It will be discreet. I’m asking you to do this for my mother, for my family. I know I ask too much, but I’m asking anyway.”
The world tilted. Michael waited for her answer, his face calm as if he had asked her for a dinner date rather than a marriage vow. Pushing past all the screaming thoughts blurring in her mind, she reached deep for an answer.
His mother was sick. Yes, she’d made a bargain for a fake marriage, but telling the truth at this point could be a complete disaster. His sisters would feel betrayed and heartbroken. Venezia wouldn’t be able to marry, and who knows what type of drama could ensue? Would it be so bad to say some vows and make it legal? It was just a piece of paper. Nothing would change, and it wasn’t like anyone had to know. She had no one back home—no lover or family she cared about other than Nick and Alexa. Maybe the whole thing could work. If she married him now, she could hop on a plane tomorrow, hitch it back to New York, and pretend the whole thing never happened.
Yeah. She was in the land of denial.
He’d owe her big-time, and she’d be sure he stayed far away from Alexa from now on. One tiny sacrifice to make in the big scheme of things. They were just silly words from a book. A holy book, sure, but still man-made. Right? Meant nothing.
Mia amore.
The term rattled her to the core and she trembled. Who was she kidding? He asked her to stay. Acted as if he cared about her beyond the physical sex. If she agreed, in some crazy way she’d allow herself to fall completely for him and end up smashed. He was already getting so close to the truth of her past, and she swore no one would ever feel sorry for her. Vowed all those years ago no one would ever know.
There was one way, though, to make sure she never got hurt. “I’ll do it.”
He moved toward her but she shook her head. “On one condition, Count. Stop pushing me. We finish this ruse for the rest of the week and go our separate ways. No more sleeping together. No more pretending this is more than it is.”
His eyes delved into hers and swirled with an array of emotions. “This is what you ask from me?”
Silly tears threatened but she ruthlessly shoved them back and tilted her chin. Then lied. “Yes. This is what I want.”
“I am sorry you feel this way, cara,” he whispered. Regret and something more, something dangerous, shone in his face. “Va bene.”
Maggie yanked her hands from his, strode across the room, and threw open the door. “Carina, get up here and help me get that wedding gown on. And uncork the champagne.”
