“Full name.”
“Chiara Marie Gigioliotti.”
“Very Italian.” He smirks at me. “I like it.”
“Don’t start with me,” I warn, eyes narrowed at him. “I mean, how would this even work? Do we throw a ‘Surprise! We used to hate each other but now we’re marriedparty?’”
“No. It would work as a confidential arrangement.”
“Ah. I see. So, another overbearing man with a hold over me. Just fucking great. You know what my headstone will read?Here lies Chiara Gigioliotti, unfortunate orphan, well-dressed charity case, under-fucked fake wife.I told you I wanted the gold standard and you offer me a, a?—”
“An out from a shitty situation.”
“Why would you do this for me?” I cry, roughly running a comb through my wet hair before pointing it at him angrily. “I want love, someone to choose me, and you’ve made your position on both very clear. So help me understand the fucking meaning of this.”
“I’ve been honest from the start. I’m not the gold standard when it comes to romantic relationships, but I’m not okay with the idea of you being married off to that fucking monster.”
“Why?”
“I have a sister, and I think that if she were in the same position, I’d want someone to do the same for her.”
“That’s such weird reasoning because we both know Marco is the only one marrying her, so you haveno worries there.”
“We’re getting off track. Is it a yes?”
“You’re seriously the most maddening man I’ve ever met.”
“Well, I’d like to think I’m a better brand of madness than the one on the table currently.”
I look up to find him staring at me, like he’s waiting for a response.
“Oh, sorry. I thought that was a rhetorical question, seeing as no one really cares about what I want or need.” I push past him and go into my room. He follows, standing at the foot of my bed, watching as I open and close drawers loudly until I find what I’m looking for. Then I turn to face him, holding a handful of lace. He wants to play these games, I’m down.
“So if you’re asking me if you’re better than the other neanderthal men in my life currently hellbent on making decisions on my behalf, the answer is—marginally. You’re a good kisser, have a big dick, and you know how to use it. So that earns some bonus points.” Holding his gaze, I drop my towel and slowly put on the pretty, sheer white lingerie. He doesn’t look away but remains stony-faced. Unfortunately, his towel does nothing to conceal his body’s reaction.
“Enjoying the impromptu show from your almost-fake wife?” I tease, hands on my hips, fully on display for him. His eyes roam over my breasts then lower before he snaps them back to my face.
He clenches his jaw, and for a millisecond I think he’s going to close the distance between us. Instead, he remains steadfast. It’s clear he’s not going to allow me to tempt him into sinning with me again.
I grab sweatpants and chuck them on. “Well at least I like your sister and your brothers.”
“No one can know unless we need to use it as our ammunition.”
“Thanks, Captain Obvious,” I say with an eye roll as I hunt for Raf’s tee that I kept from the night of the Photography Exhibition. “I might be young, but contrary to your misinformed belief, I’m not dumb.”
That makes him snap. He strides over to me and grips me by the chin, my pebbled nipples brushing against his torso.
“I never said you were dumb. Don’t put words in my mouth,” he commands sternly staring into my eyes. “Stubborn. Wild. Beautiful. Talented. Deserving of happiness. Sometimes infuriating, yes,” he says punctuating each word. “Even if this marriage is a means to an end, my words are real.”
His honesty has thrown me for a loop. To be fair, I was thrown for a loop at how nonchalantly he proposed the idea, almost as though he’d been thinking about it for a while.
“Important question,” I whisper. “Is consummating the marriage part of your marriage-of-convenience service?”
“Against the house rules. Besides, I think we already took care of that part. Twice.”
“You and your fucking rules,” I say with a huff.
The air around us is charged—strike a match and we’d go up in flames.
