Page 9 of The One Night Match (Mafia Matchmaker #1)

NINE

RILEY

T his is a nightmare I can’t wake up from.

How could this possibly be my life?

I go out thinking I’m having a one-night stand with a sinful man, and I’ll be able to hold on to that last passionate night during a loveless arranged marriage, and somehow end up fucking my future husband?

Only I could get myself into such a monumental mess, and there’s not a soul on this earth I can talk to about it.

Except Cruz, I suppose, but he’s not going to understand. Or maybe he will.

I don’t really know.

All I know is I’m freaking the fuck out, and if it weren’t for his steady presence, I would have had a panic attack in front of everyone.

Cruz tugs me through the hordes of people offering their congratulations, and I let him. Not because it’s what’s expected of me as his wife now, but because I want him to get me out of here. I need a reprieve, even if it’s just from the crowd, so I can get my head together.

I wave at my parents and sisters as Cruz ushers me into the waiting limousine, and I awkwardly shove the thick layers of tulle through the door before following it in.

This thing is a hazard.

Once I’m settled and my dress is taking up almost the whole seat, Cruz slides in after me and slams the door behind him, blocking us from the rest of the world.

My shoulders sag, and I release the breath I’ve been holding since I realized I fucked the man I was about to marry, thinking I’d never see him again.

What a spectacular mess I’ve managed to make for myself.

This is truly artful, even for me.

“You okay?” he asks as the driver pulls away from the curb.

“Nope.”

He chuckles as his tattooed fingers wrap around my chin and guide my face around to meet his eyes.

How is he even more attractive in the light of day? I thought for sure the dark suit, tattooed skin, and bone structure that would make even Brad Pitt weep with jealousy had to be in its element in a dark club, and yet here he is, looking like a fallen angel of death in broad daylight.

It’s not fair.

“You’re really crashing out, huh?”

“You think?”

“It’s not the worst thing in the world. At least we know we’re good together?”

I roll my eyes. “Just because you can make me come does not mean we’re good together.”

“It’s a start.” He shrugs.

I’m surprised by how relaxed he seems. Everything I’ve heard about the great Cruz De Luca suggests that he’s a hard man who hasn’t smiled in years, and yet he hasn’t stopped since the initial shock wore off.

I sigh and press my eyes closed, trying and failing to grasp onto the fraying edges of my composure. We still have hours of responsibilities before I finally get to be alone. And that’s only if he decides to let me have time to myself.

For all I know, he thinks we’re going to spend the weekend in bed making babies. Or practicing, I suppose, seeing as I’m still taking the pill.

If I have it my way, that won’t be changing anytime soon.

“Do you have low blood sugar?” he asks suddenly, and I pop open an eye to look at him as he rummages through a cupboard along the side of the limo.

“No?”

“You look a little faint. Did you eat this morning?”

He finally looks up when he finds what he’s looking for—a packet of gummy bears. He rips them open and holds the bag open to me.

The moment the sweet candy scent reaches me, I know I won’t be able to deny him and pick out a few, popping them into my mouth.

I shake my head. “I was too nervous.”

He frowns. “You need to eat, Kitten.”

“Stop calling me that.”

“Why?”

“Because I asked you to.”

“Actually, you kinda demanded it. Which is hot, but it’s still a no.”

I breathe out a sigh of exasperation and pop a few more gummy bears into my mouth.

No one ever told me Cruz De Luca is kind of an overgrown toddler slash golden retriever.

Maybe I would have preferred cold and unfeeling.

Cruz presses the call button to the driver. “Ben, can we stop at a drive-through?”

“Getting married make you hungry, De Luca?”

He laughs. “No, my wife hasn’t eaten. I want to make sure she’s fed before we’re thrown to the sharks.”

“You got it.”

The line goes dead, and I’m left staring at him with my mouth agape.

What the ever-loving fuck is going on?

“You don’t have to do that,” I insist.

“I want to.” He smiles, and I swear it lights up his whole face.

It’s only a few minutes before we pull up to a fast-food chain I’ve rarely allowed myself to indulge in.

The expectation to stay thin is largely unspoken in the family, but not completely.

I’ve spent years dieting so I don’t have to be faced with the judgment of other women at parties, which is why I turn to Cruz in confusion as he orders half the menu.

“Aren’t you supposed to want me to eat healthy and be thin?” I blurt.

He shakes his head. “No, I want you to be fed and happy. If I find out you’re starving yourself, you won’t like the consequences.”

I don’t get a chance to respond before we pull around to the next window and collect our food.

Three bags full, plus four different drinks.

Jesus, I think he really did order the whole menu.

“Are we feeding the whole reception?” I ask.

“No, I just didn’t know what you liked, and I figured you wouldn’t tell me, so I had to guess.” Cruz knocks on the partition separating the driver from us, and when it rolls down, he passes a drink and a bag of food through before the privacy screen moves back into place.

“You know your driver’s order?”

He nods. “Ben has been with me a long time. He’s one of the few people I trust.”

“Shouldn’t you trust everyone in your organization?”

“Yes.”

“But you don’t?”

“No.”

“Isn’t that kind of a problem?”

He sighs and pauses his rummage through the bags. “I didn’t think you’d care much for the Mafia side of things. But to answer your question, yes, it’s a problem. It’s what made me search for a wife in the first place, figured it would make me seem more settled and reliable.”

Something about his words makes my chest ache but I shake it off. It’s not exactly like I want to be here either. “I guess when you kill your dad and take his place, it’s hard to harbor a trusting environment.”

A laugh bursts from him and I can’t help but smile at the sound. “Weird how that works, huh?”

“Crazy,” I deadpan.

I nibble at my bottom lip when he passes me my fries and I hold them in front of me like I’m not quite sure what to do with them.

This is unexplored territory for me. All the boys I dated when I was younger seemed to be under the impression that women should only eat salad, and yet here Cruz is feeding me carbs like they’re going out of fashion.

He gives me a hard look, and I pop my first fry into my mouth, groaning as the salt bursts over my taste buds.

His gaze turns dark as he watches, but he shakes off whatever thought crossed his mind and starts eating himself.

We finish our meals in compatible silence, and once I take my last bite of my burger, I’m feeling a lot more calm. Maybe I was just hungry.

“So, Riley, tell me something,” Cruz starts, turning his body to face me. “Why does a girl who looks like you need to sign up for a matchmaker service? I would have thought the first guy who got between your thighs would have locked you down. I know I would have.”

I don’t know whether to take his words as a compliment or an insult, but for some reason, I laugh, like what he’s said is the funniest thing I’ve ever heard.

“Yeah, no. Every guy I dated thought I was the disappointing sister. I wasn’t as pretty as Ari, not as smart and deadly as Cassidy.

” I shrug. “So instead, I got to be the test case for the matchmaker.”

A rumble falls from his chest, and I look over at him in surprise. “I don’t want to hear you say anything like that about yourself again.”

“Why? It’s the truth?”

“No, it’s not.” He shakes his head.

I sigh and press my eyes closed. “Look, I know we need to make the best out of this. But when things don’t work out in the first ninety days, I won’t hold it against you when you walk away. It’s your right within the contract, and I won’t take it to heart.”