The Marriage Mistake (21 page)

“Why don’t you ever talk about your dad?”

His hand paused on her back. She waited him out. After a few beats, he resumed the caress. “Because it still hurts.”

The raw honesty shuddered through her. She lifted her head and cupped his cheek. “I know he left after you were born. I know he was Swiss, very rich, and swept your mother off her feet in an old-fashioned romance. But you never elaborated on your relationship . . . if you ever found him or had contact.”

Carina knew she danced the line. Expected him to withdraw into his safe haven and give her a flip answer. He always avoided speaking about his past, and her mother and Michael never mentioned it, though Max had been part of their family.

He gave her the second gift of the evening.

“I was twenty-one when I finally decided to track him down. All that time I just waited for something to happen. A card. Present. Note. I finally realized he was never going to contact me, so I decided to do it myself. A rich Swiss businessman who completely disappeared seemed odd. I always wondered if he’d been involved in
some scandal and wanted to protect me. I even thought he was dead.”

Her heart shattered at his flat tone. She wrapped her arms around him for body warmth and listened.

“I found him in London. He ended up just an old drunk who didn’t give a shit. No exotic past or legitimate excuses.”

“Did you ever speak with him?”

“Yes. He knew who I was when I saw him in the bar. And he didn’t care. Never wanted me as a baby, and didn’t give a shit that I grew up. He gave me money. He thought that should be enough.” Carina wondered what it felt like to have your own blood deny you any part of their heritage or memories. No wonder he isolated himself so much. No wonder he never wanted to take a chance on anything permanent. “But I was finally able to let it go. I was tired of living my life for a ghost that never really was. I left London the next day and never looked back.”

They both knew it was a lie. Everyone looked back. But for now, she allowed him the space.

“I think your mom forgave him. I think your mom still even loves him in some way.”

He craned his neck and looked down at her. “No. Mama never mentions him. Why would you think that?”

She reached up and tangled her fingers in his hair. “Because he gave her you. And you were worth everything, Maximus Gray.”

Something flashed in his eyes—an emotion she never spotted before. A tenderness that spread over her like honey and melted every part of her body.

She pressed her mouth to his. With a low groan, he slid his tongue inside and thrust deep. She linked her ankle over his calf and shifted her weight. He stirred to life.

“Damn, one day you’re going to make someone a great husband.” The words popped out of her mouth and she cursed. “Ah, crap, you know what I mean. Don’t get your ego in a tangle. This is just about sex.”

“Thanks for reminding me of my use and purpose.” Her fingers drifted, wrapping around his penis and playing. He groaned and allowed her free access, until his erection throbbed in her hand and power pumped through her veins. “Baby, you’re killing me.”

She slid down his body, straddled him, and lowered her mouth. Then smiled. “Not yet, but I will.”

She took him fully in and closed her lips around his shaft. The scent and flavor of him urged her on, and she spent long minutes enjoying giving him pleasure. Harsh expletives shot from his mouth and made her even hotter. He reared up and grabbed her before she could protest. “Condom,” he hissed out. “Now.”

Carina fumbled but got it on in seconds. With one quick motion, he lifted her up and over.

He filled her and pushed every other thought out of her mind but how she could take more of him. Tilting her
hips, she set the motion, until he couldn’t wait any longer and took control. She rode him in a furious frenzy until they both came apart together. She slumped over him in a big melty pool of satisfaction and wondered if she’d ever walk again. Or do anything again without thinking about Maximus Gray.

“Where the hell did you learn to do that?”

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.

H
e’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?

“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.”