Luca & Marcel (Hostile Takeover 0.50)

But in the harsh morning light, I couldn’t help doubting. It was too soon, too crazy… too… something. Wasn’t it?

I made a little squeaking sound of concern.

“Baby,” he said calmly. “You warned me this might happen, so we talked through contingency plans. Remember? I’m supposed to remind you of Kelly Ripa and her husband. They got married in Vegas in 1996 and are still together today.”

“He’s really hot,” I said, as if that detail about Mark Consuelos was relevant.

“And Paul Newman. He and Joanne Woodward were married over fifty years after their Vegas wedding.”

Now he was cheating. “He left his first wife to marry her. That doesn’t count.”

“Yes, you said that last night too, but I thought the hot factor contributed to the value of the sample,” he teased. “You can’t deny Paul Newman’s hot factor.”

He had me there.

I lifted my head up to come face-to-face with the beautiful Italian man in bed with me. My heart did a pirouette and fell onto its fainting couch with a dreamy sigh.

“Husband,” I breathed. But what I meant was my husband. Mine.

Luca’s entire face softened into the same tender expression he’d been giving me since I’d sat on his lap that first night and admitted I was attracted to him.

“Please don’t change your mind, Marcel,” he whispered. His eyes searched mine with a hint of insecurity. “I know it’s crazy. I know it’s fast. But…”

“I was supposed to keep you from making any big decisions,” I blurted. “I was supposed to protect you from men who tried to take advantage of you.”

Luca’s eyes widened. “Are you saying you married me to take advantage of me?”

I sat up with a jerk. “No! No. Don’t you remember me googling prenups for like an hour at that club last night? I was horrified you wanted to get married without one. In fact, let’s find a lawyer and sign one right now. Surely they have someone in town, or… or we can call your lawyer back home. Get him started on it right away. That’s probably better. Come on.”

I tried to climb off the bed, but Luca grabbed my wrist and yanked me back. His mouth turned up in a teasing smile. “I was joking. I know you didn’t marry me for my money. You panicked last night over it.”

My stomach revolted. I’d do anything to make sure Luca knew I hadn’t married him for his money. “Luca…”

“Do you know why I married you?” he asked, running his hand up my chest and over my shoulder to my back. I loved the feeling of his hands on my body.

I thought back to the day and night we’d spent together. We’d talked nonstop about our dreams, our goals, our loves and hates. We’d talked about Luca’s tendency to overwork and how it was his way of hiding from his loneliness. We talked about my fears of winding up the same way as my boss, obsessed with success to the point of forsaking any kind of joy outside of work.

“Let’s go to a real beach resort in the Caribbean,” Luca had suggested after I’d jokingly ordered a rum punch at dinner. “You still have another two weeks off, right?”

I’d waved him off with a laugh. “I’m holding out for my honeymoon. I always wanted to honeymoon on a private island in the Caribbean.”

He’d cupped my cheek and leaned in to kiss it before whispering in my ear. “Then let’s get married so I can take you on that honeymoon.”

I’d shifted my head just enough to kiss his lips again, and we’d drowned in each other for another hour at least. It wasn’t until much later in the night, after more talking, more lovemaking, more shock at our easy connection, that we’d gotten drunk enough on each other’s company to actually do it.

I shifted on the bed and glanced at Luca’s sleep-mussed hair. “Didn’t you marry me so you can whisk me away to a proper beach resort?” I asked. “Show me a good time, hopefully decked out in nothing more than a teeny-weeny bikini?”

“I love you,” Luca said plainly, shocking the hell out of me.

I stared at him. “You can’t possibly,” I said weakly, terrified I was right.

Luca moved back to sit against the headboard before pulling me to straddle his lap. He cupped my cheeks. “I know it seems that way, and if you’d asked me this only a few days ago, I would have scoffed. But…” He sighed. “As soon as you stepped on that plane… my heart flopped around in a way I’ve never felt before. You… you’re magnetic. Funny and confident. Beautiful and easy to be with. I want more of you, so much more. Maybe there isn’t such a thing as love at first sight, but Curtis was right when he said successful businessmen use their instincts, and I—”