Page 2

XAVIER

M aria De Luca is the most beautiful thing I've ever seen. She smells like vanilla and sun-warmed skin, and if I let my guard down, she might rip my throat out.

I don't know why that turns me on so damn much, but just the thought of her launching herself across the SUV and putting her hands on me has me hard as stone, and I have to discreetly adjust myself when she takes a second to look out the window.

I’m thirty-three, not a damn teenager, how in the hell am I letting a woman have this kind of effect on me?

I didn't really give a damn what Franco's daughter looked like when he made the crazy deal to marry his daughter.

All I knew was that I'd been struggling with something, and an easy marriage to any woman would solve it in an instant.

Considering Franco looks and behaves like a toad at the best of times, I was more than a little shocked to see that his daughter was an absolute knockout.

I knew she was pretty from the pictures I'd seen on the walls of his office, but the photos didn't do her justice .

She's gorgeous, with long blond hair darkened by the rain, big blue eyes framed by thick lashes, full pink lips I can't stop looking at, and curves for days. It's almost enough to make me wish this marriage wasn't going to just be for show.

I've had control of the family business for years now, but it wasn't until recently that my father became sick.

As much as none of us liked to admit it, the old man is looking worse by the day, and we're all afraid he doesn't have much time left.

I'd do anything for my father, but the one thing he's been asking of me lately seemed impossible right up until Franco De Luca offered me his daughter.

My father wants me to settle down and get married, so one day my child can carry on the family name.

Pops has been obsessed with the idea lately, and it was killing me that I couldn’t give him what he wanted.

There is just no time for me to date, make some poor, unsuspecting girl fall in love with me, and marry her.

And that's how Maria fixes all my problems. Sure, I'm out a significant amount of money, but money is meaningless compared to family.

Plus, we made our fortune two generations ago when our spirit supply company was just a front for something more nefarious. We’ve been out of the crime game for a long time, but the reputation remains.

I don’t hate it. Having people terrified of my family name is useful for business. Hence, Franco being so scared of me that he offered up his daughter.

I'll marry Maria, Pops will get to attend my wedding, and he’ll be happy. As long as Maria plays along, things will be just fine. I'm not an animal. I know there won't be anything real between us, but I never wanted to get hitched anyway.

Well … until I got a good look at Maria, but surely that feeling has to pass .

As soon as our eyes met, I was drawn to her so powerfully that it almost overcame my better judgment.

I wanted to give her the world in that moment, kiss her senseless, and make her mine.

She's nothing to me but a beautiful stranger, but I feel like I've known her for years, like she was always meant to be my wife.

Not my wife in name only, but my real wife. It's a stupid notion, and I set it aside before I could dwell on the thought of the connection any longer. Luckily, Maria speaks, breaking up my thoughts.

"You can't really expect me to go home with you and just be fine with it. Even if I went along with this stupid plan, all of my things are still at my apartment." She huffs.

I shrug. "Your father can bring your things. My main concern is getting you home without causing a scene."

Her eyebrows lift, and she crosses her arms over her chest. "So, you're telling me that you're kidnapping me? You don't think that's illegal?"

"It's not kidnapping," I correct her. "You're going to come willingly, aren't you?"

She barks a laugh. "No!"

"Even if it saves your father's businesses?"

"No. He dug his own grave with that one."

"Hm." She isn't wrong, but that's something between her and her father.

She's mine now, and there's no escaping it.

Maybe I can make her new predicament seem a little less horrific, though.

"What if I tell you that it's temporary?

You only have to be my wife for a short time, and when it's over, you're free to go. "

She looks at me suspiciously. "How long is 'temporary’?"

I think for a moment. Telling her the truth means I have to reckon with my father's mortality, and I'm just not up for that tonight. "Two years max. "

Maria blinks. "Two years?"

"Two years," I confirm. "And your father's debt is erased. Plus, you won't have to worry about any sort of bills, rent, or anything else."

Maria seems to consider it for a moment, and then she says simply, "No."

My hands tighten on the steering wheel. "All right, let me phrase this another way.

You're marrying me. There's no getting out of it.

We can be cordial to each other, or you can approach the altar kicking and screaming, but the outcome is going to be the same.

I can make this good for you, Maria, or I can treat you like a prisoner. Your choice."

She blinks at me, and I can see the fury building behind those pretty blue eyes of hers.

I don't blame her for being pissed off, but that doesn't mean I'm going to let her ruin my plans.

This marriage is going to happen whether she likes it or not, and if I have to be the bad guy to get her down that aisle, then so be it.

"Fine," she snaps, "but also, fuck you. Why do you even need a wife, anyway? What's in it for you?"

I chuckle. "Only my friends get to know my secrets. Are you ready to be friends, Maria?"

"No."

"Then it's none of your damn business. Hey, if you're cold, the seats have heaters."

"Fuck you."

This time, I actually laugh. "Yeah, I know. Fuck me is right."

Maria continues to not make things easy for me when we get back to my family estate by the lake, but I can tell she's calmed down some.

Still, I make sure the security system will alert me if she tries to sneak out a window in the middle of the night.

Maria De Luca isn't a petulant teenager, though.

I think now that she isn't at the spitting mad stage, she can see the sense of my offer.

And the futility of trying to get out of it.

I've lived here all my life, so I've grown immune to how it must look to people seeing the place for the first time.

Maria, as mad as she is, still lets out a small, "woah" when we pull up.

There's a security gate, the entryway with huge stone columns on either side, and a drive that circles the rose garden in the center of the front yard.

The house itself is three stories, made of white stone, with tall windows and an expansive balcony that looks out over the lake.

There's a gazebo down by the water, and the yard stretches on for acres in either direction.

My mother would have loved to fill the house with children, but things just never panned out.

Now it's all on my shoulders to continue the family …

or at least pretend to while Pops is still alive.

"It's even more impressive during the day," I tell her.

"I bet," she grumbles.

I get her settled in one of the guest rooms, throwing her a pair of my sweats when she complains about having nothing to wear but her wet clothing.

My estate is in Evanston, just outside of Chicago, and it wouldn't take long to get her things, but I'm not in the mood to risk her trying to flee if we're in public.

Plus, I have something else I have to do before I can rest tonight.

Maria lingers in the doorway of the bedroom, one damp curl falling over her cheek, tempting me to reach out and touch it. I don't, but I also don't leave right away, looking down at the woman who will be my wife in a matter of days.

"I'll make this good for you," I tell her, and Maria flushes bright red.

It takes me a second to realize how sexual that must have sounded, but instead of apologizing, I bend down enough to brush my lips over her blushing cheek before stepping back.

That should give her a little something to think about tonight. "Goodnight, Maria."

I don't look back, but I can hear that it takes her several seconds to close the door behind her. It's good to know she's just as affected by our strange connection as I am. Maybe I can use that to my advantage in the coming days … if she doesn't figure out how to first.

My smile fades as I make my way to the other wing of the house, my parents' wing. It's late, but I know my father doesn't sleep much these days, and my suspicions are proven correct when I see the light shining under his study door.

He looks up from where he's sitting on the couch, a blanket over his legs and a book in his hand. He sets the book down and gives me a tired smile.

"Xavier. What are you doing here so late?"

I shrug. "I came to see you."

Pops's smile turns wry. "Don't worry, your mother made sure I ate."

My mom has been trying to keep Pops fed and healthy for so long now. She's tried every possible combination of diet and health regimen, but nothing seems to work. "That's not why I'm here. I, ah, have some news, Dad."

He leans back, giving me a look. "Oh yeah?"

"I'm getting married."

My father's eyebrows lift, and there's so much hope in his expression that it makes my chest ache. "Really?"

I nod, swallowing hard around the sudden lump in my throat. "Yeah, Dad. Her name is Maria. You and Mom will meet her tomorrow. We want to get things done fast."

His eyes tear up, and I look away before I lose my shit too. It's been so fucking hard watching him slowly get worse, and as much as I want him to get better, I know he won't. The doctors have already given us the prognosis, and it isn't good.

"Thank you, son," he says softly, "for doing this for your old man. It means the world to me."

"It means a lot to me, too, Pops," I manage to reply.

"This girl must be something special." He looks at me with an expression I've seen on his face a thousand times before. It's pride, pure and simple, and I've never felt more like a man than when I see that look from him.

"She is," I tell him truthfully. I might not know Maria well, but I recognize a spark in her. "I think you're going to love her."