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MARIA

" S it down, dear. Quit looking at me like I've grown another head."

My dad is the only one sitting at the dining room table, the food still steaming in the to-go containers from one of his many restaurants. His inviting me to dinner on a random Wednesday is weird enough, but the expression on his face has cranked my suspicions up into the stratosphere.

It's not like Dad and I don't see each other often, but it's rarely ever in my childhood home, and there's always a reason behind it.

Still, I settle into the seat across from him and pluck a breadstick from one of the to-go containers, the garlic butter dripping onto the tablecloth.

"So," Dad says, grabbing his fork. "How are you doing?"

I narrow my eyes at him as I chew. "You invited me here for small talk?”

He snorts. "It's been two weeks since we've hung out. I just wanted to check in and see how you're doing. You haven't been returning my calls."

Ouch. Maybe I've been avoiding him a little bit, but things are always weird this time of year, when the anniversary of Mom's death starts to loom.

"Sorry," I say automatically, "I guess I've been distracted. Work and stuff."

"How is work?"

I sigh. "I’m between projects right now. Freelancing isn’t paying what it used to.”

"Hm," he responds noncommittally. Then, he takes a swig of the open beer bottle next to him and sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose. "Listen, kid, you know I don't beat around the bush. So I'm going to come out with it."

My shoulders stiffen. "Okay..."

He looks at me, eyes weary. "I'm in trouble, Maria."

"What do you mean?"

"Money trouble. Business trouble.”

I frown. "What happened?"

He shakes his head. "It doesn't matter what happened. It doesn't matter what went wrong. The bottom line is, I messed up."

My heart thumps faster. This isn't like my dad.

He's always been an overachiever, driven and ambitious—the type of man who'd rather die than let his empire crumble.

He built his business from the ground up, from a tiny restaurant to a chain of thirty locations across the Midwest. He's always been the same way with everything he cares about—hard working, proud, fiercely protective.

This … this is not the father I know. And it scares me .

"How bad is it?" I ask cautiously.

"The worst," he admits, his voice tight. "I don't want to get into the details right now. Just know that I owe a lot of money to someone who really isn't the kind of guy you want to owe anything to. So this was my only option."

"Why can't I just pay off the debt?" I ask, before the rest of his words sink in. "Wait, what's your only option?"

"I've already sold off a few of the restaurants to pay some of the debt," Dad says. "I tried to negotiate with him, and he agreed to a deal, but … you aren't going to like it."

"Just tell me what it is!"

Dad sighs. "You have to marry Xavier Romano."

Shock hits me, but then I laugh before I can let the worry sink in. "This is a joke, right? Who the hell is that? And why does he care who I marry?"

"Xavier Romano is the man whose family owns the spirits distributorship I've been using for the past decade. He's also the man I borrowed several million dollars from."

I drop the breadstick, splattering garlic butter across my plate. "Several million dollars? What the fuck, Dad? How did you let this happen?"

"I don't know, Maria," he says wearily. "I guess I trusted the wrong people.

Or I bit off more than I could chew. Maybe a little bit of both.

I wanted to expand the restaurants, get them into new markets, and I didn't think twice about getting a loan from Mr. Romano.

He seemed like a decent guy, and the deal was solid.

I thought he was a businessman, but he needs a wife, and he saw the pictures of you on the walls of my office, and. .."

I freeze as the rest of his words sink in. "So, what, he wants to own me? "

Dad shakes his head. "No, he wants you to marry him. It's an arrangement, Maria. But he'll forgive all my debt if you go along with it. And I won't lose everything your mother and I built."

My chest tightens. I've always known that Mom and Dad started the business together, but hearing him use her as a way to manipulate me makes me feel ill. "But why would he want me? He doesn't even know me."

"Because you're beautiful and smart," Dad says firmly. "And I told him you're kind and selfless, and you'll do anything for the people you care about."

I blink back tears as a wave of panic rises inside me. This can't be real. I must be dreaming right now. My dad isn't sitting across from me, saying that some stranger wants me to marry him in order to wipe out a multimillion-dollar debt.

But Dad's expression is deadly serious. "Maria, say something," he pleads. "Please."

"What do you want me to say?" I ask hoarsely. "You're asking me to get married. To someone I've never met. And this is all so I can keep your restaurants alive?”

"Yes," he admits. "And so I don't end up in prison or dead in an alley. You have no idea how deep in debt I am right now."

My head spins. "Okay, well, how about we pay off the debt? We'll figure out a way to pay it back slowly, and?—"

"No!" Dad says sharply. "I already tried that. It won't work. My credit is completely ruined, Maria. Everything is on the line here, and this is the only option I have left. It's my last chance. Do you understand?”

His words hit me like a slap across the face, and suddenly the room feels hot. I swallow hard. "I understand, but that doesn't mean I'm just going to accept it. "

"It doesn't have to be forever, Maria. Once I recoup my losses, I'll do everything in my power to get you away from him, but for now, this is the best option to save the family legacy. Please, Maria. He swore to me he'd never hurt you."

The last sentence makes my stomach turn. "He swore he'd never hurt me? Dad, listen to what you’re saying!”

"He's not a mobster or anything. He's just … a businessman who has connections to people who can help him get what he wants."

"Like me."

"Yes. Will you do it, kid? You’re only twenty-four. This will only be a blip in your life, but it may very well save mine."

With my heart in my throat and fear settling cold in my stomach, I throw my napkin down on the table and storm off, not even bothering to grace him with an answer.

Hell no, I won't do it. I refuse to marry a stranger!

I worked so hard to start my own life, getting my degree and working as a software developer, renting my own apartment, and basically creating something separate from the family that has caused me so much grief.

No. Absolutely not. He's going to have to find another way out of this mess.

I ignore my dad yelling after me, pushing open the front door, and rushing into the night.

What started as a sprinkle when I arrived has grown into a full-blown storm, and the sheets of rain are so heavy I can barely see what's in front of me.

I try to cover my eyes with my forearm, digging in my purse for my keys.

I can deal with being soaked to the bone if it means I get the chance to escape this place.

I almost make it to my car when a hand reaches out and grabs my arm, stopping me in my tracks. I yelp, slapping at the hand, assuming it's my dad and unable to tell otherwise with the rainwater streaming down my face. But then, I turn around and see that it's not my dad at all.

It's a tall man, at least 6’3, with dark hair plastered to his forehead, rainwater dripping from his nose, and a stern look on his face.

His eyes are so dark that I can't even see the difference between his iris and his pupil.

And even though I have no idea who he is, there's something about him that makes my heart race with fear.

"Maria," he says, his voice deep and authoritative. "You're going to get in the car with me."

"What? Who the hell are you?" I try to step away from him, but he just tightens his grip on my arm.

"I'm Xavier Romano. Your future husband."

Panic swells as he pulls me forward, and I barely have time to dig my heels in before he's opening the door to a huge, black SUV and all but pushing me inside.

He shuts the door behind me, but before I can scramble for the handle to try and escape, he's climbing into the driver's side and hitting the lock button.

The locks click down, trapping me in here with this strange, intense man who apparently wants me to marry him.

I whip my head to look at him. "Get me out of this car right now or I'll scream bloody murder!"

Xavier doesn't even turn to look at me. "Go ahead, Maria. No one will hear you."

I grit my teeth, trying to ignore how deep and warm his voice is.

I don't know what this guy thinks he's doing, but I refuse to let him intimidate me.

He reaches into the center console and offers me a small towel, which I reluctantly take.

Dabbing the water away from my face, I'm finally able to get a good look at him, and really seeing him for the first time hits me like a ton of bricks .

The attraction is instant and powerful, like some sort of connection shoots out of me and locks onto him the moment we make eye contact.

I knew he had dark hair and eyes from the limited view I'd gotten of him outside, but I'm not prepared for just how attractive he really is.

His eyes are a deep, rich brown, his nose strong, and there's a frown on his surprisingly soft-looking mouth.

Xavier's hair is jet-black and cut close to his scalp on the sides, longer on top.

At the moment, it's soaked, but so is the rest of him, so it fits.

Even in the less-than-flattering lights of the car, I can tell he's tan, and there's the dark shadow of stubble on his jaw.

There's an old, white scar just above his upper lip that I have the wildest urge to trace with my tongue, and he's staring right at me, like he knows exactly what I'm thinking.

I tear my eyes away and clear my throat, forcing myself to remember how angry I am about the situation he put me in. I'm sure I look a mess, hair soaked and dripping, mascara probably smudged across my cheeks, and my clothes soggy.

"What do you want from me?" I ask, my voice trembling slightly. I hate that it betrays even the slightest hint of fear.

"The fact that you aren't screaming and trying to escape the vehicle tells me you already know the answer to that, but I'll humor you anyway.

My name is Xavier Romano, and I'm the man whom your father promised your hand in marriage to.

You, Maria De Luca, are going to be my wife in less than forty-eight hours, so I came here to get you and make sure you didn't attempt some sort of escape.

" A hint of amusement softens his frown.

"Your father did say you were a wild one, and I can see he wasn't lying.

Now, buckle up. You're coming home with me. "

My heart races as he turns back to face the front and shifts into drive. I can't believe this is happening.

I glance at Xavier out of the corner of my eye and try not to let my gaze linger on the sharp curve of his jaw or the broad set of his shoulders. He's tall and strong, probably close to a foot taller than me.

I can see why my dad chose him to ask for money.

The SUV reeks of money, and so does the man sitting next to me.

I can smell the expensive cologne wafting from his skin, along with something else warm and masculine, and when I look down, I notice he's wearing a Cartier watch that probably costs more than my college education.

"This is stupid," I blurt out. "You don't even know me."

"No," he concedes, "but I have a problem, and you're going to help me fix it, sweet Maria. Now, sit back. We've got a long drive."