A Sudden Engagement & the Sicilian's Surprise Wife

by Penny Jordan

  “You’re joking, right?”

  “Why were you stressed, bella?”

  “Because I was getting married under the strangest conditions that I ever dreamed of and the beast I was marrying thought I had trapped him into it,” she said, thunder filling her voice.

  He grinned. “The beast?”

  “Yes. Anyway, I know that our contract doesn’t stipulate looking after each other in case of migraines brought on by stupid decisions and showing concern toward each other, so I’m really grateful to you for—”

  “Shut up, Clio,” he said, staggered at how easily she had him swinging from mood to mood, like a damn monkey being operated by a switch.

  Just fifteen minutes into the day, he had felt a strange warmth in his gut at the way she occupied every inch of the suite that had always been free of feminine intrusion, had given him unrivaled morning wood just by standing in his kitchen and now he was annoyed as hell.

  At her and at himself.

  All he wanted to do right now was tear up the bloody contract, pick her up, carry her to his bedroom, and peel that denim off of her slowly, inch by inch until he could touch her all over.

  “Is the migraine gone now?”

  “Yes, thank you,” she said primly.

  Was it his arrogance that rankled at being dismissed so well? Or was it the allure of a woman who didn’t immediately fall for him?

  Chewing on that errant thought, he picked up one of the coffee cups and took a sip.

  The bitter brew on his tongue instantly reminded him of his home, a home he hadn’t visited in so long. “You found a Sicilian blend in Manhattan?” he said, surprised.

  A flush claimed her cheeks at his pointed question. “I know a Sicilian coffee stand. I go there every once in a while.”

  “My favorite breakfast and coffee. Grazie, Clio.” Leaning next to her, he tried to corral the various emotions exploding inside. Clearing his throat, he offered her an awkward smile. “Take the day easy. Go to the spa or if you want, I can have the pilot take you to…”

  Her face fell. “I have no other machinations behind bringing breakfast for you except to say thank-you, Stefan.”

  Beneath the caustic tone there was a thread of hurt that struck a chord in him.

  Should he be so satisfied that she cared what he thought?

  Even as he had stood under the icy jet of his shower on his wedding night, his shredded control an astounding concept in itself, there had been a strange exultation in knowing that he had been the reason she had drunk.

  A sadistic streak that he now possessed apparently, in addition to being a mistrusting asshole.

  Dio, the woman was turning him inside out.

  “I was just surprised, Clio.”

  “Because I brought you breakfast? Is that really such a hard thing to grasp that I would want to do something so mundane for you? Are you going to weigh and give a price to every little exchange between us as long as we are stuck with each other?”

  Stuck with each other?

  That very phrase riled him up to no end.

  He had moved so close to her that he could see the green of her eyes darken, could see the pulse in her neck flutter unevenly, could hear the way her breath fell short. “Dio, bella. Shut up or I swear—”

  “Or what? Will you add another clause to the contract that I can’t speak unless you give me permission—”

  Grabbing her slender shoulders, Stefan slammed her to him and kissed her. It was the best thing to start the morning with.

  With a gasp, she fell against him, anchoring her hands on his chest.

  Shaping her head with his fingers, Stefan slanted her mouth and nibbled at it, his desire slowly spiraling out of control.

  She tasted of syrup and coffee, sweet and bitter, like fresh desire and old memories all blended together to drive him to distraction. The scent of gardenias entered his bloodstream and teased his senses.

  He groaned as she sank her fingers into his hair. Turned into stone as she sank those teeth into his lower lip.

  If only he could finish what they started in the kitchen…

  He couldn’t think of one reason why he couldn’t take his wife to bed. Or why kissing her first thing in the morning, in a domestic setting that should have given him hives, felt so natural.

  * * *

  If they continued this way—kissing and nibbling and pressed flush against each other—it wouldn’t be long before he had her trapped beneath him and thrusting into her wet heat on that huge bed in his room.

  The thought, instead of scaring her to her senses, painted such a vivid, erotic picture that Clio whimpered against Stefan’s mouth.

  The hands shaping her hips and her bottom with a possessive grip instantly relented, a breath of air blowing over her tingling lips. “Merda, Clio. What am I going to do with you?” his ragged whisper snagged onto her senses. “We should have included a clause for this, bella.”

  Somehow, Clio found the sheerest thread of self-preservation and hid her face in his shoulder. His skin was like heated velvet—the muscles beneath tensing.

  It had been a flippant thing for her to think the thought about including sex in their contract. But to hear him actually say it, to see that he couldn’t think of anything between them as anything but a transaction, it punched her in the gut like a blow she hadn’t seen coming.

  Did he really think no more of her than any other woman? And if he did, why did she care?

  Before he could enslave her with his mouth again, she moved away around the breakfast bar and leaned against the wall.

  Her legs trembled, her breath felt as if it would never be normal again, but she had finally put distance between them. And judging by how his eyes glittered, it was no small feat.

  “Clio—”

  She pushed away the need in her to one corner, the cascading hurt to another.

  “I know that the media focus is going to be on us for a little longer, but I still would like to be more than your arm candy and apparently, ‘the recipient of scorn and envy of a number of your ex-girlfriends’,” she said quoting from one article she had read today.

  All she had done was scan the internet for world news as was her habit with coffee. Instead, she had opened the Pandora’s box of Stefan Bianco’s exes and their reaction about his wedding.

  It was a long list comprising models, actresses and singers that even a pretend wife could get insecure about.

  He frowned, looking at her as though she had sprouted another head. “Mi scusi?”

  It seemed walking away from his embrace cost her every brain cell she possessed. The man kissed like he did everything—with absolute dedication. Her lips still tingled, her breasts felt heavy and her entire body was one pealing mass of sensation.

  Marshaling her thoughts, she began again. “I’m beginning Phase One of my reincarnation, beginning a life that’s not defined by whose wife or fiancée I am. I have received a couple of callbacks on some jobs I applied to. Hopefully…”

  He started shaking his head and her words trailed off. “Not necessary, I—”

  “If you make one comment about me mooching off of you—”

  Thunder danced in his eyes. “Keep that delectable mouth closed, cara, or I know of a very enjoyable way now to do it for you. Christian told me just last week that the charity the four of us runs needs a manager. I think you’d be a good fit for it.”

  Clio blinked and stared. “Are you serious?”

  “Dio, bella! Why are you so doubtful about your own abilities? Where is the woman who thought everything in life was a challenge she had to rise to?”

  Clio flinched. More at the fact that she had no answer rather than from his tone.

  He clasped her cheeks and lifted her chin. His gaze was awash in tenderness. The unex
pected gentling of his mouth mocked her doubts. “Yes, I’m serious. I would never tease you about this, Clio.

  “Instead of turning your back on all those connections your name brings, instead of turning away from the powerful friends you have, instead of stubbornly refusing your new status as my wife, use them, bella.

  “Use them to further your career, use them to help someone who’s never had the advantages we had, use them to make whatever you want of yourself, Clio.

  “You’ve already conquered the hardest obstacle by staying the course on what we started, by showing Jackson what you’re made of.”

  “But I swore to make something of myself, Stefan. If I—”

  “Nothing will come of all the resources and connections of your family and background if you aren’t smart enough to channel them properly, Clio.”

  A lightness filling her, Clio wrapped her arms around her waist. She wanted to hug him so bad. But he wouldn’t like it.

  “That is, after and if you ever find something on Jackson.”

  “I will,” Clio said with utter confidence. “It’s just a matter of time.”

  “Then make that time now, Clio. As long as we carry on this pretense, you already have a full-time job of being my adoring wife.”

  “Believe me, it’s not easy to remember the adoring part,” she quipped.

  With a deft aim, he threw a plastic spoon at her.

  The way his eyes lit up, he reminded her of when he had been so carefree and affectionate and open. The memory that smile brought was so strong that she stared at him greedily.

  “My board members and their wives are dying to meet you. And my assistant tells me we’ve been invited to several dinners and charity galas, in and out of New York.”

  “I should probably charge you for making me into a glorified escort.”

  “I think escorts provide other services, bella.” He sent her such a scorching look that Clio should have combusted on the spot. “Are you offering?”

  “Do you want to start our fairy-tale marriage with domestic assault, Bianco?”

  He grinned and it was like her own personal sun had dawned in the living room, filling her with his warmth inside out. “No, Mrs. Bianco,” he countered smoothly. “I’d like to start it with a kiss from my wife.”

  Robbed of speech, Clio stared back. It shouldn’t bother her. It was just a technicality. He was teasing her.

  Still, the words clung to her like a physical brand on her skin.

  Apparently satisfied that he had shocked her, he forked a piece of pancake into his mouth. The usually scornful curve of his mouth relaxed with a sigh.

  “It’s not my fault that they all want to meet you. Apparently, you’re an asset any sensible man would be lucky to have.”

  “Of course. Let’s not forget how valuable my blue blood and where I come from are. Because there couldn’t be any other reason in the world that a man would want me, right?”

  “Do not put words in my mouth, bella. But I will tell you this because you seem to be forgetting it. It took guts to tie yourself to me, Clio. If you didn’t know it before, you know it now, sì? I will give you nothing but what you have rightfully earned from me.

  “Yet you didn’t back off. It took guts to start on the path to reclaim yourself. It took guts to take a stand on what matters to you when Jackson used those filthy words for you.

  “You’re far stronger than you give yourself credit for. Now find something on Jackson during the day while you dazzle the world as my wife at night.”

  Clio stared at his back, his words ringing in her ears.

  He was right. That decision had entirely been hers. But only two days in, she wondered if it was more dangerous than courageous.

  * * *

  Dazzle the world was what they did and they did it so well that even Clio couldn’t tell where the pretense ended and where reality began.

  Charity galas and dinners with influential, powerful men from all over the world, sometimes in New York, once in Hong Kong and once in London—from visiting art galleries to the charity-sponsored schools and shelters all over the world.

  And everywhere they went—big or small—the media followed them.

  In just a couple of weeks, Clio and Stefan had been almost around the world aboard his private jet and had become the media’s favorite couple to talk about.

  Frustrated more than once about hitting a wall with Jackson’s financials, Clio had taken to alternately learning as much as she could about the charity that Rocco, Christian, Stefan and Zayed had set up to help underprivileged kids in so many cities complete degrees through scholarships and find jobs.

  The range and scope of the charity stole her breath. It made her immensely proud to learn of the continuing resources and time all four of them poured into it and excited her beyond limit that she could be a part of something so fulfilling.

  And wherever Stefan and she landed after their marriage, she wanted to be a part of it for the rest of her life, could see herself carve a path through it.

  In a weird twist of fate, she was enjoying the pretend life with Stefan more than she had enjoyed her real one with Jackson for three years, even though it was essentially the same kind of life—jet-setting, networking, showing off, making and breaking deals over dinner and drinks.

  The man at the center of it, however, made all the difference.

  Being around Stefan was like being caught in the orbit of a star—invigorating and exciting. And it made her never want to leave. Everywhere she went, she saw acquaintances—some she had known through Jackson—but it seemed like a foregone conclusion that, of course, Stefan was the victor in some fight against Jackson, and she the spoils.

  She knew she shouldn’t feel pleasure at that so much, but as Stefan had said, Clio was going to take every small victory. Because the one time they had run into Jackson, he hadn’t dared meet her eyes, much less utter a word.

  Only the price she paid for that felt increasingly high.

  The most luxurious and spacious suite in one of the finest hotels in New York wasn’t big enough for the both of them.

  She felt Stefan’s restlessness at being caged in the suite like a physical force, sensed a loneliness that had hardened into a shell around his emotions.

  The only time there were flashes of the old Stefan was when one of his three friends was present. It was the only time she saw genuine laughter in his face.

  And the more she saw of this new Stefan, the more she wanted to shatter that shell.

  Despite knowing that it was the last thing she should be doing, she couldn’t stop from trying. She had already contacted his parents, was counting the minutes to when they would arrive in New York.

  Was desperately praying that he wouldn’t throw her out of that suite the moment he saw them.

  * * *

  “Your wife is the most beautiful creature I have ever seen,” his fifty-seven-year-old accounts manager gushed and Stefan barely stifled the urge to punch the man’s ruddy face. The old lech had already pawed at Clio when Stefan had introduced her.

  Smiling at him, which took quite a considerable effect, he turned away from the man, leaving him midsentence.

  “Ready to go home?” he whispered, reaching Clio.

  Flinching at the palm resting against her lower back, Clio covered up the wariness in her eyes.

  Before she could reply, Stefan’s cell buzzed and he checked the identity of the caller.

  It was the hospital where his assistant, Marco, was still struggling for his life. His gaze fell on Jackson in the crowd just as he switched his phone on.

  Two minutes into the conversation, grief knocked the breath out of his throat. Turned his gut into an aching chasm.

  Not trusting his temper, he marched into the balcony and pushed his fist into the
wall. Even the pain that radiated from his knuckles and up his arm was not enough to blunt the pain of losing Marco.

  “Stefan?”

  He heard more than saw Clio’s hurried steps in the darkness, felt her search for his hand. Distress filled her gaze as she pulled his arm to better see his knuckles.

  Her gasp resonated in the lush night. “I have a first-aid kit in the car. Let’s go.” He had a feeling she was barely keeping the tears away.

  “No,” Stefan roared, pulling his hand away from her. He had no idea what he would say or do to her. “Leave, Clio. Instruct the chauffeur to drive you home.”

  The stubborn woman stayed right where she was, a resolute tint to her chin. “I’m not going anywhere. Not until you tell me why you rammed your fist into the wall like a—” a catch in her throat “—Stefan, please. Tell me what’s going on.”

  “My executive assistant, a man who’s been there with me for ten years, through every up and down, he was swindled by Jackson.”

  He saw her disbelief in her stunned look. “This man…he was not just an employee?”

  Somehow, she had reached the crux of the matter. “No. Marco…he started out with me when I began investing in real estate. He was so loyal and caring that he became important to me, despite the bastard I became. Strange, huh?”

  A small smile curved her mouth. “Not really. How much can you deny your own nature, Stefan?” She looked away for a second. “What happened to Marco?”

  “He tried to kill himself and was hospitalized. Today, he died, leaving his little girl without a father. A little girl, bella…and that scum is still free to enjoy his caviar out there.”

  Instantly, she threw her arms around him. But Stefan saw how pale she had turned. Saw the flash of guilt in her eyes as if she was responsible for Jackson’s actions. Which was why he hadn’t told her so far.

  She had enough burden of her own to carry.

  “I’m so sorry, Stefan. I…don’t know what to say.”

  Untangling himself from her, Stefan looked away. “He did the same to me years ago, Clio.