His Merciless Marriage Bargain

“Why can’t you be beautiful?” he asked. “Why must you assume I’d want someone like your sister? Yes, she caught Antonio’s eye, but she’s not the kind of woman I’m drawn to. You are. You are my idea of beautiful.”

“You say that because you never met her.”

“You don’t think I’ve had my pick of beautiful women? I’m thirty-eight. I’m wealthy. I can support any woman in any lifestyle she wants. Trust me, women are drawn to me, but I want you, bella. I’m drawn to you.”

She swallowed hard. “Do you mind terribly that I’m not interested in your money? And that I am not very interested in having a lifestyle? I just want to be a good mother to Michael, and hopefully, a good wife to you.”

“Does that mean you’ll accept Michael’s and my proposal?”

He hadn’t mentioned love, but then, she didn’t expect him to. Right now she didn’t need the word when she felt his strength and passion and commitment. She believed he would be a good husband. A kind husband. And an honest one, too.

“Yes.” She smiled shyly. “Can I put on the ring?”

“If you don’t mind that Michael’s begun to drool all over it.”

“That’s his seal of approval, you know,” she answered, holding her hand out so that Gio could slide the stunning yellow diamond onto her finger.

“My beautiful funny Rachel,” Gio said, putting the ring on her finger, where it glinted with fire and light. He shifted Michael and kissed her, and then again. “I am so glad your sense of humor is back. You make me smile and laugh. It has been such a long time since I did either.”

She reached up and touched his jaw, her fingernails lightly raking his jaw. “So you appreciate my brains and beauty.”

“All of it. And all of you. I love your eyes and how they show everything you’re thinking and feeling. I love your mouth—you have perfect lips—and I love that when I kiss you, you make this little whimper. I find that incredibly sexy.”

And then he kissed her and his kiss lit her up like a Christmas tree. “I can’t wait until bedtime,” she whispered.

“I can’t, either, as I intend to show you something new tonight, something guaranteed to give you intense pleasure.”

“Don’t tease.”

“I’m not. It’s a promise.”

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

RACHEL LOOKED AT herself in the floor-length mirror. Her figure-hugging wedding gown was made of white lace, and the lace hugged her curves before billowing out just above the knees. The lace sleeves were long, reaching the back of her hand, and the fitted lace collar high. Her veil, made of the same lace, covered her from head to toe.

She’d been dressed as if she was still the virgin bride, although she was far from virginal now.

As she put on one of the diamond earrings Gio had given her for an early wedding gift, she told herself she was happy. She was marrying someone whom she was compatible with. Indeed, with him she experienced incredible pleasure. She hadn’t even imagined that she could feel so much, never mind the sizzling, dazzling heat that burned in her veins and hummed in her body making her reckless with need.

Of course she wished Gio loved her. She wished he felt for her even half of what she felt for him.

Maybe that’s why the sex was so good. It wasn’t just sex for her. It was love. When she gave herself to him each night—and morning—she gave herself completely, not just her body, but her soul and heart.

She was lucky to have a good partner, someone to help her raise Michael, someone who would treat Michael as his own son, but still—still—it would have been even better, it would have been perfect, if that someone loved her.

Earrings in place, she turned away from the mirror and was preparing to leave when a knock sounded at the door, and then her bedroom door opened, and it was Gio.

“What are you doing here?” she said, unable to hide herself. “It’s bad luck for a groom to see the bride on the wedding day.”

“I have something for you,” he said, entering her room with a large leather box.

“You’ve already given me these gorgeous earrings.”

“This is different.”

That’s when she saw his expression. Something was wrong. Gio wasn’t smiling. He looked somber and hard and impossibly remote. Her heart did a painful little beat.

“What is that box?” she asked. The dark box was the size of a loaf of bread, and the polished surface gleamed, the exterior made of inlaid wood, the wood carved into an intricate design of flowers and fruits and musical instruments. It looked old, hundreds of years old, and valuable. Rachel suspected it’d been designed to hold jewelry or a dagger or something else of value.