CHAPTER ONE
When in doubt, hide behind the dessert buffet.That nugget of advice had saved Luciana Barone at family gatherings more than once, and it served her well now. The fact that her cream-colored dress—chosen for its subtlety—camouflaged nicely with the mascarpone trifle was a happy coincidence. The mountain of cream puffs, trays of tiramisu, and the seven-tiered cake that tilted like the Leaning Tower of Pisa provided a distracting cover, allowing her to be inconspicuous in the three hundred plus Italian wedding reception happening before her.
Safe.For now.
After spending the last several hours being interrogated by everyone from her aunts to her godmother’s neighbor’s daughter about her relationship status, when she might settle down, or when they could introduce her to the friend of a friend of her cousin twice removed, Lucy was desperate for a time out. Reaching for the nearest cream puff, she shoved the whole thing into her mouth and sagged behind the mound of puff pastry.
Honestly, there wasn’t much difference between thematchmaking schemes in the historical romance novels she favored and the average Italian family at any point in history. If you were past a certain age and single, then there was something wrong with you, and at least a dozen mamas were out to find you a husband. They weren’t discreet about it, either. And an enormous wedding like this one was their preferred place to strike. It was for the best her own mother wasn’t there.
With her parents both bedridden by a nasty flu, and her glamorous sister working on a movie set up in Canada, Lucy had been the lucky one who got to board a flight from San Francisco to Portland and represent her family at her cousin Mariana’s big day.
One more hour and it would be midnight, an acceptable time to slip out of the wedding without being questioned as to why she wasn’t having fun, or if she had someplace better to be. Until then, she’d remain in her current location and attempt to disregard the growing pressure in her bladder. She would have hidden in the bathroom, but that was dangerous territory. There she’d run into someone who wouldn’t hesitate to give her the third degree about why, at the ripe age of twenty-nine, she’d attend the most upscale wedding of the decade without a date. It didn’t help that the newlywed Mariana was four years younger than her.
Lucy sighed as she reached for another cream puff. What the hell, the skirt of her satin dress was pleated, understated, and elegant but, more importantly, it provided plenty of room for bloating...or whatever name you gave it.
“Aren’t those addicting?” Nico Barone asked as he sauntered up to the buffet. He was in his mid-thirties, good looking in that typical Italian way. Olive skin, sharp features, dark hair slicked to the side. He wore a navy suit and smelled of fresh cigarettes and expensive cologne. It didn’toverpower, nothing like her Zio Gambo, whose fragrance rivaled the perfume counter at Milan airport’s Duty-Free shop, but it wasn’t subtle either. “I’ve already had at least three, but I can’t resist one more. I hear Mariana had them flown in from New York. We can’t let them go to waste.”
As he leaned over to grab a cream puff, his arm grazed Lucy’s boobs. Instinctively, she almost slapped his arm away, but his impassive face left her unsure whether he even noticed or if invading her personal space came naturally to him. So, she settled for a small side-step in the opposite direction.
Good Lord, just when she thought she’d survived the worst of the night.
He shot her a cocky grin before taking a slow bite of his cream puff, and it took everything in Lucy not to gag. Nico. Her father’s cousin’s son. Which made himhersecond cousin. A man who existed solely to ruin her life. Not that he saw it that way. No, Nico thought he was God’s gift to the Barone family. The personal Messiah come to save her father’s cabinet-making company from extinction.
“You know,” he said, chewing thoughtfully. “This could be our wedding someday.”
Lucy tried to stifle her choke, but the damn pastry got caught in her airway and there was no hiding the retching sound she made. After a few seconds of hacking and Nico awkwardly patting her back, she cleared her throat and caught her breath.
“Are you okay,cara mia?” he asked, sounding more embarrassed than concerned, his gaze darting around to check for witnesses. “You shouldn’t take that big of a bite next time.”
Clutching her aching throat, she gaped at the sheer nerve of this man.
“It wasn’t the bite, Nico,” she croaked. “It was your suggestion that we’d ever get married.” It was impossible. For so many reasons.
“Ah,bella. Don’t get too excited. There’s much that needs to happen between now and then.” And just when she thought he couldn’t get any more delusional, he held his hand out to her. “Dance with me.”
Situations like this were tricky; she had to tread carefully. Nico was part of the family. Her father loved him, intended to entrust his entire business to him. A business she’d wanted and lived for her entire life. She had to keep her eye on her goal. If she ever had any hope of taking over Barone & Sons, being nasty to Nico wouldn’t help her cause a single iota. But Nico, like her father, enjoyed a good negotiation. Maybe she could reason with him. So she went against her instinct to punch him in the nose and put her hand in his.
With a victorious smile, he led her to the dance floor filled with glittering dresses and tailor-made suits, then looped his arm around her waist, drawing her closer to his chest than she needed to be. She angled her nose away from the waft of cologne that stung her already sensitive throat.
Focus on your goal.
“So, um, Nico,” she started as she swayed side to side with him. The live band was playing a more upbeat song, but Nico had set a slow pace, leaving Lucy to rock along awkwardly. “Don’t you miss Udine?” She referenced the province in Italy her family was from.
He’d been here for the last year insisting her father needed help easing into semiretirement. A fact that irked her daily.
His shoulder shrugged under her hand. “More opportunity in America.”
Yeah, like taking over my father’s company. She shoved away the bitterness that crept around the edges of her mind. No point.
“I don’t want you to have unrealistic expectations,cara mia, but when we marry, it will benefit both of us. The family will be stronger, more unified. We can merge my father’s business in Italy with the one your father built in San Francisco.” His grip on her waist shifted as he moved them deeper into the crowd of dancers. “Once you’ve helped me settle in as head of the company, you can take time for yourself, have a couple of our children, raise the family.”
Lucy rolled her eyes. Who was getting ahead of themselves now?
“Look, Nico, I understand you came here intending to demonstrate your interest in our families’ businesses, but you should know”—she twisted in his arms so she could catch his eye— “we’re never getting married.”
The poor fool looked truly shocked.
“And,” she continued, keeping her voice neutral. “I have no intention of letting my father hand his company over to you, not when I’ve worked for it my entire life.”
