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The Marriage Mistake mtab-3 Page 17

by Jennifer Probst


  She tamped down a giggle at the cranky tone, though his body seemed happily satisfied. “I can’t. It’s too embarrassing.”

  “We’re on orgasm number ten. We’re past embarrassing.”

  “A banana.”

  Instead of laughing, he waggled a brow. “Damn, that’s hot.”

  Carina laughed with delight and realized she may just still be almost in love with Max.

  Almost.

  She bit down on the sudden surge of emotion. No, she’d never admit or express such words again, not since that night she’d burned the love spell and dreamed of marrying the man she loved with her heart and mind and soul.

  Instead, she said nothing. Just kissed his face and held him close. And waited for dawn.

  Chapter Eleven

  He’d left the blinds open.

  The weak light of morning pierced through and reminded him the night was officially over. He glanced over at the woman beside him. She slept deeply, her cute little snores confirming her exhaustion. What the hell was he going to do?

  Leave her a note? Bring her coffee? Discuss the night? Remain silent? The endless options stretched before him and as a man, he was already guaranteed to pick the wrong one.

  Her rich hair spread out on the pillow like a dark angel, and he spotted the telltale signs of stubble burn over her cheeks and neck. Her lips looked puffy and bruised. A sliver of guilt pierced through him. Had he used her too hard and too well? He never thought of her as a virgin. Every motion confirmed her open, raw sexuality. She was a wet dream come true—a purist with the body and soul of a seductress. In bed she exhibited a naked truth that confirmed she gave all of herself. Just like in her life.

  Such a priceless, rare gift. One he wasn’t worthy of. One he’d never ask her to give to him again.

  An empty grief roared through him but he refused to examine the emotion. Maybe he’d shower, get dressed, and bring her coffee. He’d confirm how much she meant to him; how much the endless hours of making love changed him forever. Then explain once again why they needed to end it.

  Unless . . .

  The possibility swarmed before him. What if they continued the relationship? Carina in his bed. Taking her to dinner. Seducing her out of that proper business suit. Working side by side. Maybe it could work. Maybe . . .

  Michael Conte and his family inspired him to make the most out of himself. When his father walked, Max needed to build something he could count on. His word. His honor. His trust. This meant everything to him, and defined who he was as a man. If Michael discovered he’d slept with Carina, he may never get that trust back, and it could break him.

  He’d never let that happen.

  And what could he possibly offer? He didn’t have the emotional capacity to give her what she deserved. One day she’d ask for a ring. Children. A life of permanent commitment. All he could give was the moment—good sex, companionship, respect. Eventually, she’d tire of his crap and move on. Even worse, what if he did something to hurt her? He made the vow long ago to never use any actions to hurt a woman’s heart. It was too damn delicate, and he didn’t want the responsibility.

  She was extraordinary in every aspect, and completely beyond him.

  Decision made, he slid out of bed and headed toward the bathroom.

  The knock on the door surprised him. Max strained his ears, but another light tapping echoed in the room. Damn, it wasn’t even 6 a.m. Not wanting to wake Carina, he put on boxers and opened the door.

  He couldn’t believe his eyes.

  Mama Conte stood in the doorway.

  “Maximus?” Her confused expression registered in slow motion. As if trapped in a disaster movie, the rest of the events rolled slowly in time and had a strange surreal quality. Carina’s mother squinted at the number on the door and back at the piece of paper she clutched in her hand. “I knew you were in Vegas also, but this is Carina’s room.”

  Max ignored his rapidly beating heart and gave her a big hug. “Mama Conte, what a pleasant surprise. Nope, this is my room, but let me get dressed and I’ll meet you right outside and show you where Carina is.”

  He almost won.

  She threw back her head and cackled. “Silly man, your underwear doesn’t offend me.” She neatly sidestepped him and took a few steps into the room. Removed her cardigan. “Used to run bare-butt naked in my house the whole summer.” Walked over to lay her sweater on the back of the couch. “Go ahead and change.”

  She tripped over a high-heeled shoe. Stared at the zigzag trail of clothing. Ventured farther into the suite toward the open French doors of the bedroom.

  His gaze followed hers. A pair of lacy garters. A scrap of thong. His dress shirt.

  He opened his mouth to stop her but she stopped right before the bedroom. The low snore grew louder and turned into a rough grunt. A tumble of dark curls contrasted with the stark white of the sheet. Slowly, Mama Conte walked over to the bed and stared at her daughter.

  Naked.

  Suddenly, the film went into crazy action and he snapped. He jumped in front of the bed and put out his hands to ward off a batty mommy attack. “Oh, Dio mio, Mama Conte, it’s not what you think. Well, it’s what you think, but you weren’t supposed to see it. Oh, Dio, I am sorry, so sorry.” His babbling grew until he realized he’d just reverted back to his youth.

  Dark eyes flew to his face, trying to make sense of the scene. Moments passed. Finally, she nodded as if she’d made her decision. “Bring me to your room, Maximus. Now. We need to talk.” She walked to the door. “You have one minute to change and get out here. And don’t wake up Carina.”

  The door shut behind her.

  * * *

  Max tunneled his fingers through his hair and settled into hell.

  Sweat broke out over his skin. His mama’s best friend and his secondary caregiver sat before him, deep in thought. She hadn’t spoken since they arrived in his room. Just directed him to the chair and let him stew in his own perspiration for the next ten minutes. Having raised four children and buried a husband, her slight figure was lean but strong. With her own talent and hard work, she’d built La Dolce Famiglia from a home-based pastry shop into one of the biggest chains in Italy. Her gray hair was twisted into a bun at the back of her head and showed off both the grace and carved lines in her face. Her cane leaned against the wall. She wore orthopedic shoes now, with thick laces and soles to help her walk.

  Yet he’d never been so fucking scared of a little old lady in his whole life.

  “How long has this been going on?”

  His voice almost shook but he stumbled through. “Just one night. We hoped no one would ever know about it. We never wanted to hurt anyone.”

  “Hmm.” Her brows knit together. “Did you plan for this to happen?”

  “No! No, we both knew a relationship wouldn’t be good for one another. There was an attraction, of course, but I thought we had it under control. Carina lost her temper at me and Sawyer Wells started to go after her and—”

  “Sawyer Wells is here?”

  He nodded. “Yes, he runs the Venetian now.”

  “Hmm. Go on.”

  “Well, Sawyer and I got in a fight over Carina, and then things got out of hand, and I’m so sorry. I will do anything you ask to make this right.”

  She reached out and patted his hand. A slight smile curved her thin lips. “Yes, Maximus, I know. You were always a good boy. A little wild, but a good heart. Michael will be upset, but we will make him understand.”

  “He’ll kill me,” Max groaned.

  “Nonsense, I won’t let him kill you. Arrangements have to be made fast, though. Too late to fly your mama here, but you’ll do what Michael did. Have a nice garden wedding in Bergamo later on this year.”

  His inner alarm ratcheted up.

  “I’ll call home and explain you wanted to elope. The opportunity Vegas affords is priceless. Why, people do weddings here all the time and very nice ones, don’t you agree?”

  Wedding?

&n
bsp; “By this afternoon, you can fill out the paperwork and pick the chapel. I have to fly to New York tomorrow anyway. Michael was quite annoyed I insisted on stopping in Vegas before going to New York, but I’ve always wanted to see such a city. Do you know if that singer Celine Dion is in town?”

  Max stared at her. What wedding? Why were they talking about Celine Dion? If he’d stuck with the plan, he would’ve taken Carina to the damn concert, dropped her off at the room, and they never would be in this mess. But the thought of never touching her skin or making her come seemed overwhelming.

  “You are doing the right thing. The moral thing. It will all work out.”

  The full implication of Mama Conte’s words slammed through him. The room tilted. Spun. Steadied.

  She expected him to marry Carina.

  His breath caught him in a choke hold. “Wait a minute. I think there’s been a misunderstanding.” Mama Conte tilted her head to the side. “Yes, we spent the night together, but this isn’t Italy. In America, sometimes these things happen, and the relationship isn’t pursued.” He laughed. The sound seemed half crazed, like a manic supervillain. “Of course, we’ll remain friends and close, but we can’t marry each other.”

  Carina’s mother stiffened. Ice drizzled over her features and stopped his heart. “Why not, Maximus?”

  Shit, shit, shit, shit . . .

  “Because I’m not good enough for Carina! I work crazy hours, I’m unstable, and she needs to find herself. She’d feel trapped with me, I’m sure, and she needs a man who wants to settle down and take care of her and have babies. Someone better suited. Someone not me.”

  An eerie silence settled over the room. Panic clawed at his gut. There was no way he could marry Carina. He’d ruin her life and break her heart. He didn’t do long term. He didn’t do commitment.

  Mama Conte reached over, took his hand, and squeezed. Her delicate fingers gripped him with urgency. “You are wrong. You are perfect for Carina, and always were. Your actions last night only fast-forwarded what was meant to be from the beginning.” The older woman smiled. “Now, no more nonsense. You are part of the family and always have been. No silly talk about ruining her. It is time you settle down with a woman who can be what you need, who is your match.”

  “But—”

  “Will you disappoint your mother because you are suddenly afraid?” Her steely tone cut through the fog and to the heart of the problem. His mama would never hold her head up again if news got out he slept with Carina and didn’t marry her. It would ruin her reputation and everything they worked so hard to build. A sense of trust, and honor, and home. He’d be doing exactly what his father did. Abandoning his responsibility. Humiliating his mother all over again in the small town that had finally forgiven her. Yes, no one married just because they had sex, but once everyone found out what happened, a major fallout would occur. He’d drag his family and Carina down into the pits. She’d never feel free to go home again. And he’d never be able to look his mama straight in the eye.

  The only option crystallized like spun glass. Marriage. He needed to marry Carina. It was the only way to make things right. His honor demanded it, and it was all he had left.

  A strange calm settled over him. He’d tasted her forbidden fruit and now needed to claim her permanently. She was going to be his wife, and there was nothing left to do.

  By stepping up, he’d finally become a permanent part of the family he always loved. But at what price? What type of husband could he possibly make for Carina? He’d never be worthy, but could he be enough to prove he’d never be like his father?

  He had to be.

  Grateful that he wasn’t experiencing a breakdown, he nodded and made his choice. “Yes. But let me do this my way. Carina will refuse to marry me if she thinks we’re bullying her into it. You know how stubborn she is.”

  “You are right. Go in and ask her. Make her happy. That is all that matters.”

  Her words shook him to the core. Flutters of panic tickled his nerve endings. “What if I can’t?”

  She reached out and cupped both of his cheeks between her weathered hands. Dark eyes held a knowledge and peace he clung to. “Do you think I would let Carina marry anyone not worthy of her? You need to trust yourself more, Maximus. Trust you are enough and nothing like the man who left you. I’ve watched you grow up, and I’m proud of you. Of your choices and the way you took care of your mother.” She pinched one cheek like he was a toddler. “Be the man and husband I know you can, my sweet boy. Take this gift.”

  He shuddered and fought for composure. Any words of protest died in his throat.

  “Now, I’ll go downstairs and get some breakfast. Come get me when you are ready.”

  He watched the older woman leave and dragged in a lungful of air. Waited a beat. Then went to wake up his future wife.

  * * *

  Carina heard the voice in the background, but she was pleasantly buzzed and relaxed with the endorphins of hours of fabulous sex. She moaned into the plump pillow and stretched. Max’s voice grew louder, so she finally rolled over.

  “Morning.”

  His voice was deep, sexy, and matched his morning-after look. Tousled hair fell in disarray over his forehead. Shocking blue eyes gleamed with a mix of emotions she couldn’t place, so instead she tugged him forward and kissed those carved lips. His rough stubble contrasted deliciously with her sensitive skin. It took him a moment of hesitation, as if he wasn’t sure how to respond. Then he dove full force.

  He pressed her back into the mattress and kissed her like a proper lover. Deep thrusts of his tongue and full-body contact. He tasted of hot male arousal and a hint of her essence, from the endless hours of lovemaking. Finally, he pulled away and smiled down at her.

  “Your greeting was better.”

  She laughed and stroked his cheek. “I agree. Where’s my coffee?”

  “Coming. I got distracted. Wanted to ask you something first.”

  “No worries.” Her heart fell apart but she knew what was coming. And desperately wanted to do it first. “We’ll sip coffee, get dressed, and never mention last night. I don’t want you to worry, Max. This is what I wanted, and I can handle it.” She forced a half laugh. “Feels nice to be the jaded American woman for a change. Using a male for her physical pleasure and tossing him aside. Another fantasy checked off my list.”

  Oddly, she didn’t spot any relief in his eyes. Instead, he pulled back and sat on the edge of the mattress. Examined her bare leg and refused to meet her gaze. “The rules have changed, Carina. At least for me.”

  Confusion swamped her. She sat up and pushed her tangled mane of hair from her face. “What are you talking about?”

  He cleared his throat. Looked up. “I want you to marry me.”

  She blinked. “Are you nuts?”

  His hand shook as he rubbed his forehead. Was he nervous? Had he gone off some deep end because he screwed his best friend’s little sister? “Only you would ask such a question after a marriage proposal. No, I’m perfectly sane. I don’t want to pretend nothing happened between us. We’re in Vegas. We’re meant to be together. Let’s get married.”

  She’d dreamed most of her life of such words coming from this man’s lips. Wasn’t it every woman’s fantasy to hear a man propose after a night of endless pleasure? The perfect ending to every romantic comedy and romance novel. So, why wasn’t she launching herself into his arms screaming “yes”?

  Because her instincts warned something was off. Why the sudden turnaround? How could he have gone from no commitment to marriage in less than twenty-four hours? She ignored her babbling younger self who whispered she didn’t care, and listened instead to the older, wiser Carina. “Umm, I’m flattered, truly. But if you’re so intent on not hiding our relationship, why don’t we just date?”

  He shook his head. Hard. “I don’t want to date.” His aura pulsed with male power and domination, urging her to submit. Damn, his controlling tendencies turned her on. Who would’ve thought? “
I’ve waited my whole life to be sure, and I don’t want to wait any longer. You always said you had feelings for me. Let’s do this. Let’s get married and start a life together.”

  Let’s do this?

  She swallowed and tried to speak past her pounding heart. “Why the sudden change? We had rules in place. One night and move on. You said you didn’t want to settle down. You cited the age difference, Michael, my family, your wanderlust. What’s going on, Max?”

  In seconds, he loomed over her and took her mouth. Holding her head, he claimed her lips and plundered every corner, until she hung on and dug her nails into his shoulders. She shuddered in pure lust and softened beneath him. He broke contact and gazed deep into her eyes. Raw command glimmered and tempted. “I changed my mind. I want you, all the way, all the time. Don’t make me beg. Just tell me you’ll marry me.”

  She opened her mouth to say yes. Why not? She’d spent the most incredible night of her life with a man she’d always longed for. They were in Vegas where crazy things happened and impromptu weddings were the norm. Maybe he’d discovered in the hours of the night he loved her? After all, wasn’t that the only reason he’d want to marry her?

  Unless . . .

  Her gut twisted with a knowledge she didn’t want to probe. But this was the new Carina, and she wasn’t stupid enough to just believe Max Gray suddenly got bit by the love bug enough to give up his freedom.

  She pushed him away and sat up. Studied him with hard eyes. Determination carved out the lines of his face like he faced a business deal he needed to close. Carina followed her instincts and tested him.

  “Thank you for the offer, Max, but I like things the way they are. Let’s just see where this leads. No need to rush into marriage after one crazy night.”

  A flare of panic gleamed in those baby blues. His jaw clenched. “Are you listening to me? I’m asking you to marry me! I’m saying you’re The One, and I want to do this right now, today. Let’s get crazy and say our vows in Vegas. We were always meant to be together and I’ve finally realized it.”

  He bent forward and she knew he’d seduce her. Wring the yes from her lips and her heart before she had time to seriously wonder what was going on. For her own survival, she scrambled back on the bed and put her arms out in an effort to ward him off.

 

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