The Fiancé Agreement

by McKenna Rogue

  That would’ve been fine by me. More time with Helena, just for myself, more chance to hold her, to do what I could to keep her smiling, laughing.

  And, if I was lucky, moaning my name.

  As I drove away from the villa, away from whatever family was still lingering around, Helena reached over and took my hand, squeezing it gently. “What’s the plan?”

  “How does Rome sound? We could go see the Vatican, or just drive around, see what trouble we can get into.”

  “Isn’t Rome like four hours away?”

  “We have overnight bags.” I smirked, goading her a little. It seemed so easy to be with her, so easy to get her to bend to my whim.

  The lines were getting blurrier and blurrier in my head with every passing mile.

  Helena seemed content to hold my hand, or touch my thigh, or even lean over and rest her cheek on my shoulder. There wasn’t a moment where some part of her wasn’t touching some part of me.

  And my head, my heart, and especially my cock was getting confused by it all.

  “How do you think it’s going so far? Is your family buying the ruse?” I needed to say it out loud, to believe, even for a second, that I wasn’t just falling hard and fast for the woman to my right.

  She looked over, her brow furrowed, as if she was as confused as I was. “Oh… Everyone’s buying it. I can’t tell you how many times people have asked when we’re getting married, what our plans are. If I’m going to move to New York.” She sighed. “As if your career is more important than mine.”

  I chuckled. “They’re going to have to believe I’m an asshole. Maybe you should tell them that I insisted. Gave you an ultimatum about the whole thing.” I smirked, trying to decide what would be the worst things for her in a marriage. “Tell them I expected you to give up your whole life to be my little missus, barefoot and pregnant while I’m out until all hours of the night schmoozing at gallery shows.”

  Helena laughed. “They’d probably think I made the wrong choice, then. All Mom’s ever wanted for me was marriage and babies. Any other plans be damned.” She shook her head. “It’d be better if I tell them you’re gay or something. Of course, if they heard us this morning, that might be a hard one to sell.”

  Was I imagining it, or did her eyes go a little cloudy as she licked her lips?

  “I can’t say that path’s ever held a lot of appeal. There are plenty of gorgeous men, and I’ve certainly done my share of nudes of both genders, but at the end of the day, if I picture myself with someone, she’s a woman.” A curvy, dark haired brunette with attitude and fire in her eyes. And an independent streak that would scare off most.

  Helena nodded, but her face drew tight in a pensive expression, and she didn’t say much more for a while, as if she was lost in thought, watching the coastline and Italy pass by the window.

  I would’ve given just about anything to know what was turning those wheels in her head.

  Around noon, we stopped for gas in a little town called Montalto Marina.

  I watched as Helena got out of the car and stretched her arms over her head, making the front of her top rise just enough to give a peek of belly. She didn’t seem to notice, and as I filled the gas tank, she stayed close, looking around with bright eyes at the shore.

  “God, it’s beautiful here. I can’t imagine living in a place like this.” She gestured at the beach, and then turned to look at me.

  I couldn’t take my eyes off her.

  “It sort of reminds me of when we met.” I grinned and walked around the car to slide my hand over her lower back and pull her close. “And you still make the scenery pale in comparison to you.”

  She blushed and looked down. “I still can’t believe that you actually make me feel like that.” She ran her hand up my spine, and then back down to my butt. “Should we get lunch before we continue on? Or do you just want to get to Rome?”

  “This trip isn’t about plans, Helena. We can do whatever we want. Go where we want, see what we want. Hell, if you wanted to just find a hotel and spend all day letting me draw you in your underwear, who would I be to say no?”

  She laughed, the sort of full body laugh that she only seemed to have when she was with me, and she shook her head. “You really want to do a boudoir session with me, don’t you?”

  “I could also draw you like one of the French girls from Titanic, if you wanted.” I winked at her. “Let’s find somewhere that’s not a gas pump to leave the car and walk for a bit. We’re bound to stumble on somewhere we can have lunch.”

  She snagged the keys from me and waggled her eyebrows. “I think you’ve driven enough. It’s my turn.”

  I let her take the driver’s seat, sliding into the passenger side without complaint. I was sure she was more than capable, and if it would keep her grinning like that, I’d let her drive us all over the continent.

  We found a spot near the beach, and Helena parked, looking out at the sea with a wistful glint in her eye. “Man, it’s gorgeous.”

  I had to agree, although my gaze wasn’t drawn to the water. The most beautiful thing I could set eyes on was sitting behind the steering wheel.

  Helena took my hand as we started to stroll, wandering slowly, as if we had all the time in the world. In a way, I supposed we did—nowhere else to be, nothing else we needed to be doing. Just Helena and me, the sound of the waves nearby, and this beautiful little seaside Italian town.

  I didn’t even really care if we made it to lunch, or Rome. We could’ve stayed here, and I would’ve been happy just to have Helena nearby.

  But I wanted to give her more. I wanted her to be able to see as much of Italy as we could. I wanted to take pictures of her by the Colosseum, the Trevi Fountain. I wanted to paint her under the ceiling of the Sistine Chapel, and I wanted to sculpt her like the classic Roman art that abounded in Italy.

  I wanted to immortalize her with the gods of the Pantheon.

  She deserved it. And so much more.

  “How about we eat here?”

  Helena stopped in front of a small bistro with a large, sweeping deck that seemed to extend over the water, if I was seeing right.

  “It’s perfect.”

  I held the door for her, those Wright gentlemanly manners so deeply engrained, I wasn’t sure if it was something I would’ve done naturally or just something that I’d been trained to do from a young age.

  As Helena walked past and I got to watch her hips and ass, any gentlemanly thoughts went right out the window.

  “Due per favore.” I held up two fingers and pointed toward the patio. My Italian wasn’t much, but I could at least get us a table out on the deck, where I could watch her admire the view.

  “Si, signore.” The host nodded and picked up menus before leading us outside.

  We were seated under a wide umbrella, casting enough shade that I didn’t have to worry about Helena’s alabaster skin burning. It was bad enough that she was going to have to explain or cover the hickey I hadn’t been able to resist giving her. While I loved to see her blush, she didn’t need to be painted and splotchy red for Daphne’s wedding photos.

  Helena sighed as her eyes watched a sailboat dancing on the waves. “It must be amazing to have access to this all the time. The water’s so blue.”

  I smiled softly. “You know, just because we’re going to have a horrible breakup and you’re going to crush me into a million pieces doesn’t mean we can’t get together, travel sometimes. There are so many places I could imagine painting you.”

  “Why is it that every time you say that, it sounds like a come on?” She leaned across the table. “Like the paint you want to use doesn’t come from a store, and you don’t want it to splatter on a canvas.”

  I licked my lips, imagining doing just that. “I’m a professional. I would never mix paint and sex.” I raised an eyebrow at her. “Unless my subject matter was into it. I’ve seen some very interesting installment pieces where a couple has...” I switched to sign as I saw the waiter approaching, “
Where a couple has covered each other in paint and fucked all over the canvas. It’s very provocotive.”

  She gasped, and I smiled as I quickly ordered lunch for the both of us, including a shared dessert of chocolate souffle.

  I waited to see if she’d protest, if she hated my ordering for her. But Helena just let the corner of her mouth curve up as she signed, “Have you ever made art like that?”

  I’d never even considered it. But it seemed I wanted to break all my artistic rules with Helena around. I wanted to paint her all over, and not just with acrylics or tempera. I wanted to turn a sketch session into foreplay. I wanted to do a kinky boudoir photoshoot with ropes and blindfolds, and then fuck her until she screamed.

  “Gio?”

  I blinked a couple times, trying to suppress the growing cock in my jeans. “No, I haven’t made art like that. It would take just the right woman, I think, to be that avant-garde.”

  She nodded and looked back at the sea, but I couldn’t miss the flush in her cheeks, trailing all the way down to her chest. I could just make out the rise of tightened nipples under her shirt, and the day was entirely too warm for it to be from a chill in the air.

  Was she as turned on as I was?

  It was probably wishful thinking. Sure, we’d had a couple of amazing rounds in bed. And the bathroom. And the shower. But that didn’t mean she’d want more than that.

  She was probably holding out for the perfect Mr. Right, and I was just the stand-in until he showed up and swept her off her feet.

  Lunch arrived, and we shared off each other’s plates like it was the most natural thing in the world. Like we really were the couple we claimed to be.

  Helena drove the rest of the way to Rome, and before we started wandering, she insisted on finding a place to stay for the night.

  “Come on, Helena. I want to take some photos before we lose the light.”

  She rolled her eyes and drove around until she found a hotel with an underground parking structure. “Then we should check in quick.” She grinned. “Come on, Gio. We need a room, and it’s not like we’re going to drive around all day. We might as well walk, as long as we’re here.”

  I sighed and got the bags, slinging them over my shoulder as I let my free hand slide over her ass. “I’ve got a few ideas of what we can do in the room once we lose the light.”

  She let out a soft moan, almost too soft for my microphones catch. “You’re going to make me sore for the wedding.”

  I chuckled and nipped at her collarbone. “Are you complaining?”

  She shook her head as we approached the front desk. “Definitely not.”

  We got a room, nothing quite as ornate as the suite we had in Pisa, but enough for our needs.

  “Okay, what should we do first? I’ve never been to Rome. Where are the best places to go?”

  “Anywhere. The city’s full of history, full of art, full of life. We could just walk out the front door and see where our feet take us.”

  Before we got to the door, my phone rang, and I bit my lip, considering letting it just go to voicemail. The last thing I needed was to get railed by my curator. Or worse, it would be one of my family members.

  “You going to get that?”

  I sighed. “Yeah, I probably should. Do you mind?”

  She shook her head. “I’ll see if I can find some coffee or something, give you some privacy.” She rose up on her toes and pressed a kiss to my cheek. “Take your time.”

  She headed out into Rome, and it took everything I had not to follow her.

  When the door was closed, I pulled out my phone and pulled up the missed call.

  Neil.

  This was a surprise. He almost never called me.

  I redialed him and waited for the video call to connect.

  “Hey.”

  “Neil? Is something wrong? Is it Mom? Or Dad?”

  He shook his head. “No, nothing like that. I just… You’re not as interconnected as all the rest of the siblings, and I need some advice without everyone getting in my business.”

  I chuckled. “What sort of advice?”

  “There’s this girl.” He ran a hand over his hair and sighed. “And before you say anything, it’s not what you think.”

  I smirked. “Okay, there’s a girl.”

  “She’s a kid. She…” He paused again. “She reminds me of Rachel. She’s alone, and she comes into the shelter sometimes.”

  “What do you mean, she reminds you of Rachel?”

  “She’s pregnant.” He let out a sigh, almost of relief, as if he was struggling to get the words out, and now that they were there, a weight had been lifted. “I want to help her.”

  “What’s the problem? Aside from the fact that if I was going to call anyone being just like Mom, you wouldn’t have made the list.”

  Neil shot me a glare. “She reminds me of Rachel.” He let out a strangled chuckle. “Stubborn, independent, and unwilling to let me help.”

  I pursed my lips, trying to think of the right solution. “I know you’re going to hate me for saying it, but maybe talk to Mom. I’m sure she’s got Rachel’s things from when she was pregnant. At least then you could make sure she’s got clothes, and if you can make sure she’s got a safe place at the shelter, that might be all you can do.”

  Neil scowled, as if he didn’t like the idea. But honestly, I didn’t know what else to suggest. He couldn’t force the girl to get more help, or to accept more help from him.

  “Maybe you’re right. I just don’t like to think she’s out there on her own.”

  “At least it’s not winter. Maybe once the baby comes, she’ll realize she needs more help, and she’ll remember the guy who watched her back.” I shrugged. “But if she doesn’t, you can’t force it, Neil. Some people have to figure everything out the hard way.”

  He chuckled and nodded. “I guess so. She deserves more than that and so does her baby.”

  “That’s her choice to make. Just like it was Rachel’s choice to fight to raise Cordelia without constant help from the family.” I glanced as I heard a noise near the doorway but focused quickly back on Neil. “And as long as she’s still coming around, she must feel some safety, some trust with you and the shelter. Give her time and do what you can, where you can. That’s all any of us can really hope to do, right?”

  He resignedly signed the word yes before switching gears. “You brought a girl home.”

  I laughed. “I’d call her a woman, but yes.”

  “Are the two of you serious?”

  “Who’s asking? You, or Mom?” I looked around the room quickly, but I didn’t immediately see Helena. “Serious is a relative term. She’s an incredible woman, the type who deserves the world. If I can show her a fraction of it, and I get to see her smile in the process, then isn’t that worth it?”

  Neil chuckled. “Dude, you’re head over heels for her, aren’t you?” He shook his head. “I might’ve missed the cues when it was Lance, but between Chuck, and Matt, and then Jonah… I’m beginning to think Mom’s lacing all our family dinners with love potion number nine or something.”

  “Better watch out then, you eat more meals there than a lot of us do,” I teased.

  Neil chuckled. “No woman is going to put up with me and my…issues.”

  “You never know, bro.”

  “If you love her, you should tell her.”

  I smiled, thinking of Helena, of her bright smile, her curious eyes, and the way she seemed to see the world differently than anyone else. She was quickly becoming the sun in my world, the bright spot I wanted to rotate around for the rest of my life. “I don’t know if it’s love, but it’s definitely something special.”

  20

  Helena

  My heart jumped into my throat.

  Did he really just say love?

  I leaned against the wall, feeling like an eavesdropper outside my own room. But I didn’t want to interrupt Gio’s phone call. And now that I’d heard what he was saying, I didn’t
think I could move. He was talking about love.

  Could he really be in love? It made no sense. We were faking it, weren’t we?

  Sure, he was incredible in bed, and he seemed into me, but didn’t guys just want to get off? No matter how interested he seemed, I couldn’t believe it was love. I was a muse, a device for him, just as much as he was for me, but that’s all it was, right?

  Gio had this way of surprising me, of making me believe that he could love me, that we could be more than just a couple for the week. He never made me feel like I wasn’t the focus of all his attention, and the way he looked at me when we kissed, the way he touched, it all felt too real to be fake.

  Shaking my head, I sipped my coffee until I heard him sign off. I didn’t need to confuse the situation any more in my head than I already had. I didn’t need to wonder whether there was a chance for something more than just friendship. He had his life in New York. He was glamorous, smart, and even though he didn’t flaunt it like Marcus did, he was so much better off than I could ever hope to be.

  Maybe I needed to put some boundaries back in place. Maybe I needed to see him for what he was again.

  But that would mean no more kissing, no more touching, unless family was there. Unless there was reason to.

  And it would definitely mean no more sleeping together. No more nakedness. No more of the powerful orgasms he gave me.

  God, why was this so hard? It was supposed to be easy. It was supposed to be better for everyone. I never imagined real life could be like one of my romance novels, or a rom-com movie. Except, there was no way a happily ever after was possible. There were too many obstacles and he would eventually see that we didn’t belong together.

  The sound behind the door quieted, and I made a show of opening it, making sure he knew I was in the room.

  “Hey. How was your phone call?”

  “Good. I don’t talk to Neil that much, and usually when I do, he’s surrounded by other family.” He smiled and got up, sliding the phone back into his pocket before he invaded my space, getting close enough that I could smell his musky scent.