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17
Valentina
“Would you mind zipping me up?” I turn my back to Dom and I hold my hair up off my neck.
His fingers, which were busy fixing his cufflinks, grab my zipper and pull it up so fast that I don’t feel any goose bumps or shivers like in the movies where it’s an intimate moment between two people. I let go of my hair, and it cascades over the open back of my fitted black dress. I put my foot into my high heel, then the other one.
“So…” Dom clears his throat behind me.
I’m afraid to look at him because I know he’s going to look hot as hell and my body doesn’t need another reason to want to be closer to him. The act so far with his parents here is painfully pleasant. I get to be close to him, smell his cologne, and feel his body next to mine. But there’s still a wall between us. We hold hands, but he doesn’t rub his thumb along my pointer finger like he used to. He wraps his arm around my waist, but he doesn’t squeeze my hip. He looks at me when I speak, but the hunger that used to be present isn’t there any longer. It makes me yearn for him all the more.
I have no choice though, so I circle around to face him. My jaw drops when I see him holding a jewelry box with a ring inside. “Dom?”
“I figure my family will wonder, so I got you a ring.” He takes it out of the box and holds it out.
I’m so busy gawking at the huge oval diamond on a silver band encrusted with diamonds that I don’t feel him grab my left hand and hold the ring over my first knuckle. He waits a second and nods toward my hand, silently asking if it’s okay.
“Yeah, probably.” I choke on my words because this is too much.
He slides on the ring. “You’re officially Valentina Mancini, ring and all.”
“What about you?”
“I’ll say I don’t like wearing jewelry. Lots of men don’t wear wedding bands.” He drops the ring box on the desk and turns his back to me.
I thought for sure he’d make a joke about this, some kind of witty comment about owning me or something. Stepping toward him, I put my hand on his back. “Thank you.”
He nods. “Don’t get attached. It’s a loaner.”
My heart plummets into my stomach. Of course it’s a loaner. How could I be so stupid to think he’d lay down this kind of cash for a fake marriage? His words serve as the reminder I need to remember that all of this is a charade. “Yeah. I didn’t think…”
He turns around, never even glancing at my hand. “Ready?”
I nod so fast I fear I look like a bobblehead, but I’m about five seconds from tears. The truth is, I’ve imagined Dom giving me a ring many times. When I turned and saw him holding one, I was swept away by the moment—fake or not.
Get ahold of yourself.
“I’ll just grab my clutch.” I scramble to my suitcase and shove the contents of my purse into the clutch.
Dom waits by the door, holding it open as though I’m making him late.
I rush over. “Thanks.”
“You can stop thanking me. I’m benefiting from all this too,” he murmurs.
The slam of the hotel room door behind us startles me. Where did the Dom who cracks jokes and enjoys sexual innuendos go?
* * *
We makeour way to the hotel down the street for the rehearsal dinner, and we’re not there more than a few minutes before we’re put on the spot about our marriage.
“Congratulations!” Mauro’s wife, Maddie, approaches after spotting us from across the room. “Anna told me about the impromptu wedding.” She looks at Dom, but he grunts.
“Thanks.” I glance at Dom to see if he wants to add anything.
“I’m going to get a drink,” Dom says. He leaves me with Maddie, and his cousin Mauro quickly kisses my cheek before following Dom.
“Let me see.” Maddie reaches for my hand, excited because she thinks it’s real. She inspects the ring, the overhead lights in the restaurant where the rehearsal dinner is being held making it glimmer and shine. “It’s gorgeous! Of course Dom would spend a small fortune on your ring.”
