The Marriage Clause (Dirty Sexy Rich 1)

At that I really did laugh. “Was this during your European pub crawl after high school?”

“The very same. How’d you know? You were pretty young then.”

“I always knew what was going on. My circumstances weren’t exactly normal.”

He conceded my point with a silent nod, but before either of us could say much more, our food arrived and we both let it go, choosing dinner over uncomfortable topics.

And I was grateful. I didn’t want to have a deep, soulful conversation with Luca about anything, much less my unorthodox childhood, thanks to his family, and he’d seemed on the verge of saying something distressingly nice or even apologetic.

I couldn’t risk buying into anything he had to say, even if a part of me craved it more than I wanted to admit.

I’d long since stopped wondering how things might’ve been different if Luca had apologized in the slightest for breaking my heart... I wondered if I would’ve granted my forgiveness. I knew the answer—of course I would’ve. I’d been helplessly in love with the jackass. I was pretty sure stars had twinkled in my eyes like a cartoon character whenever he’d been around.

Hard to imagine being that way with anyone now—nor did I want to. I liked who I was, and I had no interest in returning to that caricature I’d been before.

Food was a great buffer, and by the time we were finished eating in silence, not needing to speak as we shoveled burgers into our mouths, I’d lost some of my prickles.

I felt more secure about making it through the week without succumbing to Luca’s charm. I just needed to keep at the forefront of my mind the reasons not to marry him. Good sex did not a relationship make. I mean, it was important, don’t get me wrong, but I didn’t want to raise my kids the way the Donato boys were raised.

For one, Giovanni was an old-school misogynist, and even though Luca wasn’t that way, his brother Dante certainly leaned that direction. I didn’t want my kids around that kind of influence and keeping any Donato grandchildren away from the family would be near to impossible.

“Thank you for the dinner company,” Luca said, patting his belly in the most comically unrefined way. “That burger hit the spot. Can I tell you a secret?”

My smile faded into quizzical curiosity. “I guess.”

“I’m not into fancy food. Never have been. Most times I’d rather just have a burger, fries and a milk shake, but it seems I’m in the minority.”

“No, you’re not. I hate fancy food,” I admitted. “You remember that time your mom had the chef prepare duck in blood sauce? I thought Dante was going to throw up all over your mother’s fine china.”

“God, yes. Who knows what possessed Mother to have the cook serve that disgusting dish. Thankfully, she never did it again.”

As much as I wanted to forget everything I’d experienced with the Donato family, there had been good times. My family was small, just me and my father after my mom died, and our home had always felt quiet. The Donato family home wasn’t exactly cozy, but it felt fuller than mine. Nico and I had perpetrated some world-class pranks, but after getting caught one too many times, we’d realized we had to stop if we wanted to get into any worthwhile university. He was a good friend, but I was prepared to walk away from all of them.

The breath hitched in my chest when I realized the magnitude of what I was doing—walking away from everything I’d ever known—but I couldn’t let myself travel too far down that road.

I had to do this.

But there was no sense in ruining a decent dinner, right?

We shared some light and totally safe memories, laughed a little, and by the time we walked back to the hostel, I was actually smiling.

Until we entered our room and my gaze fell unerringly on that tiny bed.

Could Luca actually lie beside me without making a move?

Would I be able to sleep with him smashed up against me?

I guessed there was only one way to find out.

CHAPTER SIX

Luca

KATHERINE PUT UP a good front, but the minute we crossed the threshold of our room, I could sense the tension in her shoulders. I wanted to knead the bunched muscles between my fingertips, hear her moan as I released the knots. But I knew if I touched her, all the progress I’d made at dinner would go down the toilet.

So I ignored her and went about my normal evening routine.

I settled on the bed with my phone to check emails, disregarding her completely. I pulled my shirt over my head and shucked my trousers. Katherine’s sharp inhale made me turn in question.

“What are you doing?” she asked, gesturing to my near nakedness. “You can’t sleep like that.”

“No, I can’t sleep fully clothed,” I corrected her.

“I mean, you can’t sleep with me like that,” she said, her cheeks blaring with heat, even as her gaze kept dipping to the way my boxer briefs hugged my ass and cupped my cock.

“When did you turn into such a prude?” I asked. “I remember you being a lot less...particular.”

“I’m not a prude,” she protested. “I just don’t want to feel your man parts bumping into me all night, that’s all, but whatever. As long as you can keep your hands to yourself...I can handle it.”

“No problem on my end,” I lied, giving a convincingly real yawn even though I was wide-awake. Indeed, keeping my “man parts” from nudging her might be a challenge. My cock was already threatening to plump like a Ball Park hot dog on the grill at the thought of being next to Katherine all night. “I hope you don’t snore.”

“I don’t snore.”

“I’ll let you know in the morning if that’s true or not.”

“The bed is smaller than I realized,” she admitted, biting her lip. “You take up more than half of it.”

“What can I say? I’m a big guy,” I said without apology, sliding beneath the blankets. “Not much I can do about that.”

“I know, I was just saying...it’s a little small.”

Yes, a California king would’ve been preferable, but I looked forward to a night with Katherine doing her best not to let our bodies touch. I suspect she would be so miserable by morning that she’d agree to leave this dump almost immediately, which worked for me.

“Close your eyes,” she demanded as I plugged in my phone to charge for the night. Katherine stood, clutching her nightgown to her chest like a Victorian lady.

“Seriously?”

“As a heart attack.”

I sighed and deliberately shut my eyes. She killed the light before changing. The mattress gave under the weight of Katherine’s body as she slid into the bed, drawing the covers to her nose. “Is it safe now?” I asked in an amused drawl.

“Yes,” she answered, her voice slightly muffled. “But don’t you dare try anything tonight.”

I grunted my acquiescence and rolled onto my side. I smothered a laugh at Katherine’s rigid body next to mine. At this rate she’d wake up cranky and with a stiff neck. Hell, I would, too, if the springs piercing through this thin mattress were anything to go on.

But all in all, this was working out far better than I’d imagined.

Except for the raging boner now threatening to split my Jockeys in two.

I stifled a groan as I rolled away from her, my dick digging into the bed. If I could survive this night...everything would fall into place.

Hell, at this rate, I might not even need a whole week to have Katherine eating out of my hand—and sucking my cock.

CHAPTER SEVEN

Katherine

A SIGH ESCAPED me as the morning sun caressed my forehead. The comforting weight of a big body behind me, an arm wrapped around my waist drawing me close and a slow, even breath on the nape of my neck drugged me into a contented lethargy.