“Who the hell is that?”
She rubbed her temples. “He’s one of those pink-shirted country-club guys, Harvard alum, old money. Blah, blah, blah. We’re practically brother and sister.”
He leaned both hands on the table and said in a deceptively soft voice because he wanted to yell, “Are you engaged?”
“No.”
He straightened, not wanting to think too hard on why he was so relieved when he personally didn’t want to be married.
“We’ll fix this,” he said firmly and headed for the shower. Then he did a quick about-face, snagged the veil, and took it with him. It was freaking him out. He tossed it in the bathroom trash can and decided to deal with it all later once they’d both had a chance to get rid of their killer hangovers. When he got out a long while later, he’d calmed down.
He wrapped a towel around his waist and went back into the suite, where Lily was standing in that white robe, looking out the floor-to-ceiling windows at the skyline. They must be in the penthouse suite because the view was spectacular. He couldn’t resist coming up behind her and sliding his arms around her. The tattoo with his name would wash off in the shower, and he wanted her to be only his for a little longer. “You know what’s cool about your tattoo?” he asked in her ear before biting gently on her earlobe.
“What?” she asked softly just as he slipped the robe from her shoulders. “Nico!”
He wrapped one arm around her waist. “Exactly.”
She squirmed, wiggling her ass against him. “We’re in front of the window!”
He turned and pulled her with him to the bed. He laid her on her belly, and then pulled her up by the hips so he had easy access and a nice view of his name. He took off his towel, snagged a condom from the nightstand, and rolled it on.
“I want to see and hear my name,” he said, his hand slipping around to stroke her. She moaned. He wouldn’t let her wash this off. He loved his name there.
“I’m glad you have a Lily tattoo,” she said in a breathy voice. “You’re mine forever.”
Sweat broke out on his forehead. He dropped his hand and leaned back, but then she spread her legs wider, and he felt himself grow even harder.
“Take me,” she said.
He surged forward, taking what was his, with one swift, hard thrust. She cried out his name, which only made him want more, made him crazed to hear it.
“More,” he growled as he gripped her hips and took her fierce and deep. She chanted his name, gasping it out as he took her like a damned animal, until they were both drenched in sweat. He reached around and stroked her quickly, and she screamed her release, which sent him right over as her body clenched around him. He collapsed finally at her side, one hand possessively across her lower back right on his name.
He closed his eyes as it hit him that he couldn’t have it both ways. Couldn’t make her be only his and hold himself back. He had to give. He just wasn’t sure he could. Marriage was one line he couldn’t cross.
Chapter Fourteen
Lily let the hot shower work its magic while she tried to sort through her tangled-up emotions. It really hurt the way Nico looked so horrified at the thought of being married to her. Like it was the world’s worst thing that had ever happened to him. For her, it wasn’t, though. She understood what he meant about them coming from two different worlds, but she’d never fit into the country-club mold either. She’d always felt on the outside. She could see herself with Nico, who was unlike anyone she’d ever known, but in a good way.
Her shoulders slumped as it hit her that she was in love with him. What had she gone and done? She couldn’t be in love with Nico. He clearly didn’t see marriage in his future, but she wanted that. Marriage and kids, the chance to make her own loving family. She’d never had that, and she wanted it very much. She washed herself briskly and glanced down at her stomach to see the butterfly tattoo was fading. She scrubbed a little harder, and it faded a little more. Nico lied! No wonder he’d been so weird about her taking a shower. He kept pulling her back to bed, distracting her with his hands and mouth. The man had made her come seven times. She’d finally made her escape when his cell rang. She scrubbed at her back, hoping the Nico tattoo was coming off too. It was tough to see back there. How dare he!
A flash of memory came to her. An Elvis impersonator. Maybe that was their witness. Maybe there was a fake tattoo store near the chapel. Why would Nico want his name on her back if he didn’t want a future with her? She finished in the shower, wrapped a towel around her, and stepped into the room.
He turned. “I put your casino check in your purse. I can’t believe it was still in my wallet after last night. Speaking of which—”
She held up a hand. “The tattoos washed off.”
He looked sheepish. “Guess it had to happen.”
She jammed her hands on her hips. “Why did you let me freak out that I was permanently inked?”
He shrugged. “I liked my name on you.”
“Why?”
He didn’t reply.
She crossed to him and met his dark brown eyes. “Your name on my back says something permanent between us, yet you’re panicking that we’re married.” Her throat got tight. “Is it really so bad being married to me?”
“Don’t cry,” he said.
Her lower lip wobbled. “I’m not crying.”
He cupped her jaw with one large warm hand and met her eyes with a tender gaze. “Anyone would be lucky to be married to you.”
She dashed away an errant tear. “Really?”
“Sure.”
“Even you?”
He dropped his hand and didn’t answer.
“Except you,” she said.
“Not me,” he said, “but that’s nothing to do with you. I just…I’m never getting married again.”
“You were married before?”
“Yes.”
“What happened?”
His lips formed a grim line.
“What happened?” she pressed.
He blew out a breath. “I’m not good at it.”
She recognized a lame excuse when she heard it. She reached for her tough, stoic side. The stiff upper lip her dad had drilled into her. “Don’t be such a weak female,” her dad would say when faced with her tears. And when she couldn’t stop crying, he’d say with disgust, “Spencers don’t cry,” before leaving the room. She pulled off her wedding band and stashed it in her purse. Nico wasn’t wearing his anyway. They’d undo this, as he said.
“There was an Elvis impersonator,” she said, turning back to him. “Maybe he was the witness.”
“I found the marriage license in your purse,” he said.
Her eyes widened. “You did?”
He smiled. “Yeah. I called the Marriage License Bureau. Nothing was filed for our marriage record. So maybe it’s just the license. Not an actual marriage.”
“Or maybe the chapel just hasn’t filed it yet. Maybe what’s in my purse is just a copy.”
He stopped smiling, and her heart sank.
She held up a hand. “You know what? Just pretend it never happened.” She quickly got dressed in her clothes from the day before, feeling Nico’s eyes on her.
Her cell rang. She took a deep breath and went to answer it, pulling it from her purse. “It’s my dad,” she whispered.
He kept quiet.
“Hello?” she said in a low voice.
Her dad immediately started reaming her out. She pulled the phone away from her ear. “He’s mad,” she whispered.
Nico raised his brows in a gesture of no kidding.
She put the phone back to her ear. “Dad, please stop yelling. It’s very hard to understand you when you yell.” She listened with a sinking feeling and finally said the only thing she could say in the face of the mess she’d made. “I’ll take care of everything.” He harassed her some more about the bar exam and when she was going to get her ass home. “I’ll be home next weekend.” He hung up.
“What’d he say?
”
She tossed her cell in her purse and met his eyes, suddenly exhausted. “Apparently I was very busy making phone calls last night after I got married.”
“Does he know it’s me?”
She gave him a look. “He says I told him to call me Mrs. Nico Marino from now on. This was a shock to hear at three a.m. because he thought I was in Boston with a friend taking a bar exam review course, and he’d already picked out the man I’m supposed to marry, who is not his mechanic.”
“Call him back and tell him we’re not married.”
“I don’t know if we’re married!” She took a deep breath. “Not only that, I left a message on our lawyer’s voicemail asking for one hundred thousand dollars to be sent to my new husband’s business and to work up the paperwork to make him full owner.”
“Lily! Why would you do that?”
“Because, according to my dad, I said being a full owner was what you wanted most in the world and it was my job as your wife to make your dreams come true. So I solved all your problems and now you just have to help me solve mine.”
“What’s your problem? Other than being married to me.”
She huffed. “I need to find my sister.”
Nico rubbed the back of his neck. “I should’ve stuck to beer last night. I can’t believe you paid off my debt. I was supposed to earn that myself.”
She went on. “No prenup, of course, since it was so fast. Dad was especially thrilled about that part.”
He jabbed a finger at her. “I’m paying you back, Lil. Come on. We’re retracing our steps and we’re fixing this.”
She followed him out the door, dragging her feet. It didn’t matter anyway. If they were married, they’d get it undone. If they weren’t married, it was the same result—Nico wouldn’t be part of her future. All of her stupid loving feelings wouldn’t be returned. When had they ever? She’d never felt loved and accepted by anyone. Her dad never said he loved her, his disappointment in her was always crystal clear, her stepmom barely tolerated her, her mom only wanted money from her. That was why she’d wanted to meet her sister so much. A sibling who’d also been given up would understand like no one else in the world could.
Nico grabbed her hand and pulled her along. He couldn’t wait to get to the bottom of this mystery and make sure he wasn’t shackled to her. He punched the button for the elevator. “We just need to find the chapel with the Elvis impersonator.”
“I’m sure there’s more than one.”
He narrowed his eyes. “Then we’ll check all of them.”
“I thought you were in a hurry to get home,” she said.
“Now I’m in a hurry to fix my life.”
She clamped her mouth shut and stared straight ahead. He left her alone. Her cell rang as they crossed the hotel lobby. She held up a finger to Nico and moved to a quiet corner. It was her mom.
“Hi, Taylor.”
Her mom confirmed the money had arrived and was now prattling on happily about how she wanted to decorate her kitchen with new curtains.
“I need the name and phone number of my sister.”
“I don’t think it’s a good idea,” her mom said. “She’s very angry.”
“At you! We had a deal. What’s her name?”
At her rising voice, Nico moved to stand near her.
“Calm down.” Taylor let out a huge sigh. “They called her Missy.”
“Short for what? Melissa?”
“Yes.”
“Okay, last name.” She tried to control her temper. It was always like this trying to get anything from her mom. She was so withholding with information, affection, everything. She’d never given Lily anything without her working for it and paying dearly.
“Last I heard she’d married a man named Braxton. But I think they divorced.”
“I need a phone number. An address. Something.”
“I could use a new car,” Taylor said.
Anger and a crushing disappointment washed through her. “After you tell me everything you know about Missy.”
“There’s this cute convertible. A real bargain at twenty-five thousand.”
“Done. But first I need the information.”
Her mom let out another huge sigh like Lily was just an inconvenient bump on the path to more money. “I don’t know much. She used to live in L.A. When she was married. She could be anywhere.”
“Where did you last hear from her?”
“Seattle.”
“When?”
“A few months ago. She called and told me to stop sending her birthday cards.”
Lily felt a pang of envy. Taylor had never sent her anything. But maybe that was part of the deal with her dad. No contact.
“And you don’t know her last name?” Lily asked.
“Her adoptive family was Higgins.”
Finally. Some real information she could use. “How old is she?”
“I had her when I was sixteen. You do the math.”
Her sister was two years older than her. “Anything else you can tell me?”
“That’s all I know. She’s bitter and angry. You won’t like her—”
“Thank you. I’ll wire you the money.” She punched the button to end the call.
Nico looked at her, his deep brown eyes full of pity. “You’re not sending her more money, are you? She’s just using you.”
She lifted her chin. “What would you do, huh? Just never meet your own sister?”
“Don’t send her any more money,” he said.
“I keep my promises,” she said.
He shook his head, and they headed outside. “Let’s try the most famous wedding chapel first. Most likely two drunk idiots like us just went to the obvious choice.”
She couldn’t even protest the label. She was an idiot. For loving him. For screwing up her life and his. Augh.
They walked for a bit and stopped at a chapel that wasn’t the most famous, but she thought she recognized the life-size cutout of Elvis in the front window. The clerk had no record of them. Next they went to the most famous chapel, A Little White Chapel, with a big sign boasting that Joan Collins and Michael Jordan had married there (though not to each other).
Nico went stock-still. “I remember this sign with the twenty-four-hour drive-through wedding.” He blew out a breath. “Here goes.”
He led the way, stopping in front of the clerk, a white-haired woman with her hair teased into a bouffant. Her name tag read Shirley.
“Hi, Shirley,” Nico said. “Do you have any record of Nico Marino and Lily Spencer here last night?”
Shirley clapped her hands, looking delighted to see them. “You’re back! Wonderful! Now, Elvis is off duty—” she lowered her voice “—he had a root canal.” She beamed. “But we still have a number of lovely packages you might like. How about a Hawaiian theme?” She looked from Lily to Nico eagerly.
“So we didn’t go through with it?” Lily asked.
Shirley shook her head. “You were a little worse for the wear, but I could just see the love shining in your eyes. I knew you’d be back!”
Nico met Lily’s eyes, looking serious. Their gazes locked and all Lily could think was that maybe their drunken selves knew more about what they really felt for one another than their sober selves could admit. Maybe their drunken selves didn’t care where they came from or how different they were. Maybe their drunken, idiotic selves knew what they were doing to bring them here. And just maybe Nico didn’t hate the idea of marriage as much as he said.
Nico swallowed visibly and turned to Shirley. “Exactly what happened?”
Shirley tsked. “You don’t remember? You came in here all ready to go. Well, she was. She had the veil and ring on already, and she was waving the license around, singing she was ‘Mrs. Nicky Malino.’”
“Nico Marino,” Lily said softly.
“Yes!” Shirley exclaimed. “And Nico kept saying that you needed the cookies. But I’m sure he meant cake. Anyway, you ordered the Elvis special and just wh
en it was time to say the vows, you—” she pointed at Nico “—grabbed your fiancée, threw her over your shoulder, and took off.”
Lily studied Nico. She’d thought he’d laugh or look relieved, but instead he was serious, his dark brown eyes searching hers.
Shirley went on. “I kept calling after you, telling you it wasn’t official until we had the ceremony, and I needed the license to file after the ceremony, but you’d moved on.” She smiled at both of them. “So, what should we go with today?”
“We won’t be needing your services,” Nico said, “but thank you.”
They stepped back outside. Lily put on her dark shades, glad for the cover from the tears she felt threatening.
“I guess it’s for the better,” she said.
Nico turned to her. “It is for the better.” He jabbed a finger back at the chapel. “That would’ve been a huge mistake.”
She swallowed. “Yup.”
“Be honest,” he snapped. “Did you ever see yourself marrying a guy like me?”
“I never met a guy like you,” she replied honestly.
His jaw clenched. “Everything worked out as it should. C’mon, let’s go find our luggage and get out of this hellhole.”
~ ~ ~
Nico didn’t know what to make of this eerily quiet Lily. They were on the road to L.A., and she’d been blankly staring out the window for more than an hour. She wasn’t listening to her audio lectures either. They’d agreed it was a good thing they weren’t married for real, so everything should’ve gone back to normal. But somehow it hadn’t. He’d thought he’d feel nothing but relief, but instead he just felt pissed off. Which was just stupid. This was never supposed to be more than a two-week fling. He had nothing to offer someone like Lily. Of course she’d never met a guy like him in her fancy private schools or country-club parties. What did he care if he wasn’t some rich, pink-shirted golf junkie. He didn’t even want to be married!
In any case, he knew their fuckup wasn’t what was upsetting her. It was the whole deal with her sister. She’d poked around on the Internet and made some calls earlier only to discover that her sister’s adoptive parents had died in a car accident. She’d left messages on three Melissa Higginses’ voicemails in Seattle and had heard nothing back. She hadn’t found a Melissa or Missy Braxton anywhere.
Rev Me Up Page 13
