The Marriage Clause (Dirty Sexy Rich 1)

I knew her weaknesses.

“It’s impossible to get a private tour on such short notice,” she said, calling my bluff.

“For a Donato, nothing is impossible,” I reminded her with a shrug. “Our tour is scheduled for this afternoon, which means we need to get moving if we want to make it to Geyersville on time.”

“I know what you’re doing,” she said, narrowing her eyes. “And it’s not going to work.”

I was a bastard and probably going to hell, but it would be worth it. I tried to make the decision easier for her. “How about a compromise?”

“What do you mean?”

“Helping others is the main goal when you volunteer, but there are other ways to help... Would it ease your conscience if I wrote a fat check to the shelter of your choice so that we could go enjoy our day without the guilt?”

“You can’t just toss out money everywhere you go to solve your problems,” she said with a scowl, my plan backfiring. “Coppola will just have to wait. We are going to the soup kitchen.”

The firm set of her jaw told me she would rather cut off her nose to spite her face than admit she’d much rather spend the day in Geyersville. I silently swore at her damn stubborn nature, but a deal was a deal.

I sighed. “I’ll make some calls. Coppola will be disappointed. There aren’t many filmmakers who are willing to personally give the tour, but I’m sure he’ll understand.”

Katherine’s jaw dropped a little, but she didn’t take it back, even though it was killing her. “Francis Ford Coppola was going to give the tour?” she asked, wincing. “Are you kidding me?”

“No, but it was a onetime deal. He’s a busy guy, as you can imagine. Anyway, I’m going to shower and then we can be off.”

I smothered the chuckle bubbling to the surface and left her to think about what she’d just sacrificed for her stubborn pride.

Soup kitchen, here we come.

CHAPTER NINETEEN

Katherine

WITHOUT REALIZING IT, Luca had made my point. He was much more willing to throw money at something than experience it himself if the situation didn’t align with his personal comfort. There was no growth or learning curve in cheating the experience like that. I didn’t want my children to learn that lesson, either.

But to be honest, I’d thrown out the soup kitchen idea believing that Luca would refuse. Charity I was familiar with—I’d been to more charity balls and benefits than I could count. Giving time had always seemed more genuine to me than giving money, but I’d never actually done it before. Why? I’d never been in a homeless shelter, just as I’d never actually slept in a hostel before the other night, either.

And so far I was not all that enthused with what I’d discovered, which only made me feel like a spoiled diva—the one thing I was trying my damnedest not to be.

When Luca reappeared, dressed and ready to roll, I averted my gaze when I felt the urge to stare with longing. The man could make anything look like the height of fashion, even jeans and a soft gray henley.

My mouth dried as memories of that hot body jabbed at me. How could I be so addicted to his touch, even after all these years? It was as if no one had ever existed until Luca touched me. Total bullshit. Especially after last night had gone down in flames. I was above that moony girl stuff, and I would prove it by completely squashing those irritating tingles dancing in the pit of my stomach.

“You ready?” I asked, grabbing my purse.

“As ready as I’ll ever be,” he answered with a grin that melted me just a little.

Grateful that Luca didn’t feel compelled to talk about last night, I spun on my heel before he could start. “Let’s hit the road, then. Our ride is waiting.” It seemed highly inappropriate to arrive at a homeless shelter in a town car, so I’d ordered an Uber. Secretly, I was hoping that Luca was appalled, but he wasn’t. The damn man climbed into the modest sedan without blinking an eye. “You can still change your mind,” I told him. “It won’t hurt my feelings at all.”

“I’m looking forward to experiencing an adventure with you,” he replied, and I nearly swallowed my tongue.

“It will probably smell,” I said, trying to paint a picture that wouldn’t appeal to him. “And the people will probably smell, too.”

“Probably.”

“And that doesn’t bother you?”

He shrugged. “Human beings without access to showers and basic hygiene products generally smell. I’d smell just as bad, if not worse, if I couldn’t shower and brush my teeth.” He cast a smile my way, adding, “Even you would stink. Humans are dirty creatures.”

Who was this guy? I nodded but didn’t trust my voice, grateful when I didn’t have to find something to fill the silence, because we’d arrived.

The building, covered in graffiti, was nothing to look at from the outside, but I’d read that this particular shelter was known for accepting anyone, even drug addicts and criminals, if they were in need and there was a bed available.

Run by the sisters of the Immaculate Conception Nunnery, the shelter was bustling by the time we walked in. I’d already set up the volunteer hours with Sister Mary over the phone, so after being directed to her office, we found ourselves seated opposite a stout older woman with a rather stern countenance.

I could totally imagine Sister Mary wielding a ruler to slap the knuckles of unruly children.

“Welcome to our humble shelter,” Sister Mary said, her round face breaking into a brief smile. “We appreciate new volunteers.”

“Happy to help,” I murmured, shooting a glance at Luca. Was he going to throw his checkbook at her, or would he go through with volunteering? I held my breath, waiting.

“My fiancée is so kindhearted she insisted we spend some of our vacation helping those less fortunate,” Luca said. “I’ll admit it wasn’t my first choice, but now that I’m here, I’m looking forward to getting my hands dirty.”

Sister Mary smiled with approval. “That’s a good man,” she said for my benefit, and I wanted to roll my eyes but didn’t. She produced some paperwork and slid it over to us. “I just need you to sign a few forms, acknowledging that you are choosing to volunteer and that you will not hold the Immaculate Conception Nunnery responsible for any injuries you may sustain while in service.”

“Injuries?” I repeated with a confused frown. “What do you mean?”

Sister Mary folded her hands and answered, “My dear, sometimes our guests are unstable. They can’t help themselves—they are unwell. We do our best to keep our volunteers safe, but sometimes a guest will become unruly and scuffles happen. But not to worry, we have security for those events and rarely does anything truly harmful occur. However—” she tapped the documents “—we all have to take precautions so we can continue our good work.”

I nodded and signed my name, but maybe I’d bitten off more than I could chew. I looked to Luca, but he didn’t seem deterred in the least. In fact, he looked ready to get started. His strong, solid signature sealed the deal for the both of us, and I realized this was happening.

I wrestled with the cowardly urge to back out. Nothing was working as I’d planned. Luca wasn’t playing his part as expected. Each time I thought I had him pegged, he spun around and did something completely out of character, challenging what I thought I knew, and that was beyond dangerous.

I was already teetering on the edge of the cliff—a part of me had never stopped loving Luca—but I didn’t want to be roped into the Donato family lifestyle and obligations. I shuddered, hating the thought of Luca becoming anything like his father. If it weren’t for those undeniably strong Donato genes, I’d question whether or not Giovanni’s blood ran through Luca’s veins.

Wouldn’t that be a kick in the pants for the old man if it turned out Luca was someone else’s kid? I smothered an inappropriate giggle. My nerves were jangled enough to show through

the mask I was hiding behind, and Luca could see I was struggling, plain as day.

I didn’t know which was worse, realizing that I wasn’t as bohemian as I tried to be or that Luca could see right through me.

I guess it didn’t matter. I was going to see this through, simply because I refused to let Luca have the last laugh.

Accepting gloves and an apron with forced cheer, I followed Sister Mary into the dining hall, where the rest of the volunteers were already serving breakfast.

But when I expected the nun to put us together, she sent Luca in one direction and me in another.

I chewed my lip, watching as Luca went off with a smiling volunteer with big, bouncy red hair and even bouncier boobs, and I was delivered to a not-so-smiley nun with a pinched mouth and hard eyes.

Within a heartbeat, I’d been sized up and found wanting, but another set of hands was still useful.