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  And then that last thought struck him. He was worked up over nothing. If they weren’t emotionally invested in this union, there’s no way they could get hurt. There was nothing to worry about. Nothing at all—

  “This isn’t right,” Dario said. “You need to take more time to think this marriage over.”

  “This from the man who faked his own engagement.” Now when he spoke his voice was calmer, more certain.

  “That was different.”

  “Was it?” This time it was Franco nailing his little brother with an inquisitive stare. “As I recall, you came up with your fake engagement spontaneously.”

  Dario’s gaze narrowed. “I had to do it. You and the family wouldn’t have left me alone to finish the book otherwise, and...and Gianna had her own reasons to go along with it.”

  “Yet it all worked out in the end.” He was truly happy for his brother. And though Dario had found his own true love, that didn’t mean Franco would find his.

  “But that is different,” Dario said. “Gianna and I had time to get to know each other really well before we said I do. How much do you know about Carla?”

  He hadn’t been expecting a pop quiz. “I know that when she smiles, the whole world lights up.” That was no lie. “I know she’s had a lot on her shoulders with her father’s failing health.” He paused as he drew on his memories. “I know that she prefers capellini to spaghetti. I know she loves wine but not scotch.” His gaze searched his brothers. “What else do you want to know? How she likes to be kissed?”

  Dario’s face scrunched up in a look of disgust. “Ugh! No. You can keep those details to yourself.”

  “Good.” A smug smile came over Franco’s face at his ability to quiet his brother.

  The truth of the matter was that Franco had yet to figure out how he could kiss her and not mess up their very delicate working relationship. But that didn’t mean he hadn’t been curious about how her full, luscious lips would feel beneath his.

  “You’re sure about this?” Dario asked one last time.

  “I am. I know exactly what I’m getting myself into.”

  And now that he realized not loving his wife meant that he was protected from any pain when the marriage ended, he just had to keep up the barrier between them.

  As for the kiss that he’d been wondering about, well, he would just have to go on wondering. Because he knew that a single kiss with Carla wouldn’t just be a single kiss. It would lead to another kiss and another one until things totally spiraled out of control. And where would that leave them?

  He gave himself a mental shake. It would be best just to avoid the whole thing. No kissing. No spiraling out of control. And definitely no falling for beautiful, enticing Carla.

  * * *

  This all felt so unreal.

  Today was her wedding day.

  Carla didn’t care how many deep slow breaths she breathed in and blew out or how many times she assured herself that this was only a business arrangement, she couldn’t settle her wildly beating heart. She’d negotiated million-dollar deals—deals that could have crippled her company—and she’d been able to handle them calmly and coolly. Why couldn’t she do that now?

  As she followed Franco’s assistant, Mia, through the entrance of the stately villa, she felt as though this whole day was some sort of out-of-body experience. She frantically went over all her options—they were few. In the end, she came back to the same conclusion that she’d come to when she’d masterminded this totally outrageous plan.

  They made their way up a set of sweeping steps to the second story. At the end of a very short hallway was a dark wooden door. Mia opened it and stood aside for Carla to enter. When she stepped into the spacious and warmly decorated room, she found she wasn’t alone. Her cousin Gianna was standing out on the small balcony.

  Gianna turned and rushed inside. “We need to talk.”

  “What’s wrong?” Was it her father? Her heart raced. Had something happened to him?

  Gianna smiled. “Relax. It’s good news. But I can’t wait any longer to tell you.”

  “Well, tell me.”

  “I’m pregnant.” Gianna’s whole face glowed with happiness.

  “That’s wonderful!” Carla hugged her cousin. When she pulled back, she said, “Congratulations. I’m going to be, what? A second cousin? Or is it first cousin once removed? That always confuses me.”

  “I don’t know about that, but as soon as we get you married, you’ll be the baby’s aunt.” Gianna continued to smile at her like the wedding was the best thing in the world.

  Carla swallowed hard as she forced a smile to her face. If only her cousin knew the truth about the wedding, she wouldn’t be so happy. “This is a day for lots of celebrating.” Carla turned to Mia. “Thank you so much for everything. But we’ve got it from here.”

  Mia nodded. “But before I go, I wanted to show you what Franco ordered for you.”

  “Ordered for me?”

  Mia smiled and nodded. And then she showed both women the rack of wedding gowns and maid of honor dresses. There were accessories to choose from. And there were even flowers in her favorite color—plum.

  After they thanked Mia for all her help, Franco’s assistant left them alone to go check on the groom. Carla wanted to dislike the woman, who was Franco’s right hand, but she couldn’t. Mia was one of those people who was genuinely nice.

  And though Mia spoke highly of her boss, she was also engaged to a man who made her eyes twinkle with love when she mentioned him. Besides, it wasn’t like Carla had any hold over Franco. Sure, they were going to be married, and yes, they’d agreed to be faithful to each other, but that didn’t mean they would have a traditional marriage—a marriage like her parents’.

  Immediately, her eyes blurred with unshed tears. In that moment, she realized what was really bothering her—her mother wasn’t here to share this day with her. She’d always thought as a young girl that her beloved mother would be next to her as she reached the major milestones in her life.

  Her mother’s absence left a gaping hole in her heart that time hadn’t sufficiently healed. As her gaze moved across the rack of stunning dresses, she realized she’d always thought she’d be trying them on with her mother looking on, helping to choose the right one.

  Now she was about to marry a man she didn’t love in order to protect her father from an early grave. And her mother wasn’t there to calm her rising nerves. Nothing about this was right.

  Tears dropped onto her cheeks.

  “Are you all right?” Gianna moved to her side.

  Carla swiped away the tears. “I’m fine. It’s just a lot. And...and I wish my mother was here to share this day with me.”

  Gianna hugged her. “She’s here. She wouldn’t miss it.”

  Carla pulled back and nodded. “I know. It’s just not the same.”

  And if she was looking on, would she understand her daughter’s choices? Would she understand how her abrupt absence had made Carla desperate to keep her father in her life as long as possible?

  Gianna turned to Carla. “And you have me. I’ll always be there for you. But why didn’t you tell me?”

  At first, Carla thought her cousin knew about the marriage contract, and then she realized that was impossible. Other than the army of attorneys, who weren’t allowed to speak of it, only three people knew of the marriage contract: her father, Franco and herself. And she was quite certain none of them would speak of it. She knew her father was too proud a man to tell people that he’d been cornered into an agreement to hand over the reins of his company to his daughter in order to get her to marry.

  “You mean about the marriage?” Carla moved to the rack of hangers with white garment bags hanging from it.

  “Of course the marriage.” Gianna looked at her with an I-can’t-believe-you look. “It...it’s all so sudden.” />
  “Once we knew what we wanted, we didn’t want to wait.”

  Gianna nodded in understanding. “Does your father know you’re marrying a Marchello?”

  “Not exactly.” Carla lowered her gaze. “You know how he feels about the Marchellos. If he knew ahead of time, he’d do whatever he could to stop it.”

  “I’m so sorry. But he’ll learn to like Franco. He’s a good guy, just like his brother.” Gianna held out her hand. “Let me see the ring.”

  Carla turned and held out her hand with a ring that was quite unlike the style of ring she would have expected from Franco. Somehow she’d expected something big and flashy from him. Instead this ring was smaller and modest. It was exactly what she would have selected for herself.

  The fact that it was an heirloom piece she still found surprising. Why would he give her something so meaningful? You only gave rings that had been handed down through the family to people you loved. And they did not love each other. Of that she was certain.

  Gianna oohed and aahed over it, making Carla feel increasingly uncomfortable.

  “Gianna, there’s something I need to tell you—”

  “I know. We have to get a move on. We don’t want the bride late for the wedding.”

  At that moment, she recalled her agreement with Franco to keep the real reason for the marriage to themselves. It was the only chance their marriage contract would hold up under her father’s scrutiny. And she wasn’t kidding herself into believing that her father wouldn’t fight this marriage. But he had no grounds to win, because they were truly going to be husband and wife. The acknowledgment swept the breath from her lungs.

  “Carla, are you all right?” Gianna stared at her with worry reflected in her eyes. “You suddenly look pale.”

  “I, uh—” She struggled to string two words together. “I just need some water. It’s a bit warm in here.”

  Gianna hesitated as though she were going to press the point, but then she kindly moved away to retrieve a glass of water.

  Carla knew she had to get a grip on her nerves. This marriage was in the best interests of everyone, including her stubborn father—most especially her father. If it wasn’t for him and his risky behavior, she wouldn’t even be considering getting married at this stage in her life.

  She told herself that everything was going to be all right. She just had to get through today and then life would return to normal. With the marriage behind them, she’d be able to focus on business instead of constantly worrying that her father was overdoing it.

  Yes, that’s what she’d focus on as she looked through the selection of wedding dresses. This was just a job. Nothing more. She just had to stay focused on the end result—her father would be able to retire and feel reassured that his beloved company was in her safe hands.

  CHAPTER FIVE

  IT WASN’T TOO LATE.

  There was still time to escape.

  Franco wore a crisp white shirt and black tie with his tux as he stood by the lakeside, waiting for his bride. His bride. The words echoed in his mind as his palms grew damp and his stomach churned. His gaze strayed to the car sitting off to the side of the villa. All he had to do was jump inside and head for freedom. But his feet felt as though they’d been cast in cement.

  Part of his mind said that this was the price he’d have to pay to prove to his grandfather and everyone else at the company that he was capable and willing to fully step into the CEO role. He couldn’t let a marriage certificate chase him away from fulfilling his dream because he had heard his grandfather mutter something about selling the company.

  Running Marchello Spices had been all he could think of since he was young. Perhaps it was a goal that distracted him from the fact that he rarely saw his mother, who was always off with a new husband spending time at the beach in some far-flung country. Or the fact that his father was never around. It was so much easier to focus on something that was more in his control.

  And so as a child he’d accompanied his grandfather to the office as often as he would allow him. Franco recalled what it was like being able to go into the CEO’s office. And then when he’d been able to sit in his grandfather’s seat, he thought he was such big stuff.

  He’d wanted to be just like his grandfather when he grew up. He wanted to run the family business and make his grandfather proud of him. And now it was all at his fingertips.

  He just had to get through these next few minutes. He’d swear his knees were shaking. He’d glance down and check, but he was frozen in place. He’d never been more nervous in his life. He couldn’t imagine what he’d be like if this was a real wedding with real expectations of abiding love for now and forever.

  Cold fingertips of apprehension worked their way down his spine. His heart began to beat wildly. His breathing came in one shallow gasp after the other. Was he having a heart attack? Yes, that must be it. He tugged at his too-tight shirt collar. He was certain of it.

  He shouldn’t do this.

  He couldn’t do this.

  “Ladies and gentlemen, gather round,” Dario said. “You’ve all been invited here for a surprise wedding.”

  There was a round of oohs and aahs.

  And then the wedding music began to play. This was his last moment to escape a marriage that would cause nothing but pain to both of them. Or stand here and solidify his company. His mind told him to leave—quickly. There had to be another way—a better way—to keep the business intact and not to lose his seat as CEO.

  And then Carla stepped onto the patio. In slow, measured steps, she headed toward him. Her steady gaze met and held his. The longer he stared into her eyes, the calmer he felt. His breathing slowed, and his heartbeat resumed its normal rhythm.

  Carlo Falco stepped in front of his daughter, impeding her progress. Oh boy, what was going to happen next? The breath stilled in Franco’s lungs as he watched.

  “You aren’t going to marry him.” Carlo gave the word him an offensive sound.

  “I am.” Carla’s voice was firm.

  Franco inwardly cheered her on.

  Still, Carlo didn’t move as father and daughter continued to glare at each other.

  Franco loudly cleared his throat, hoping to distract them from the inevitable argument. It appeared to work when Carla stepped around her father.

  Her gaze reconnected with Franco’s as she approached him. He wanted to tell her how proud he was of her for standing up to her father. He knew it couldn’t have been easy for her.

  Franco sent her a reassuring smile, because suddenly this wasn’t all about him and what he was risking. It was about helping Carla break free of the hold her father appeared to have over her.

  And as long as Carla was by his side, he could get through this—they’d do it together. Finally, he was able to think clearly. He took a moment to really look at his bride. She stole his breath. She wore a long lacy gown that gave a peek at her crystal-studded heels. The gown gathered around her slender waist.

  The fitted bodice was decorated with crystals that sparkled in the sunlight. It was held up by two thin straps. Her hair had been pulled up and studded with little white flowers.

  But it was the smile on her beautiful face that pulled it all together. She was smiling directly at him. It filled his chest with warmth and a feeling he’d never experienced before.

  * * *

  She couldn’t believe she was still walking.

  Her knees felt like gelatin, and her ankles were wobbly.

  Carla’s heart had launched into her throat when her father had stepped in front of her. Anger had flashed in his eyes. She’d thought for sure he was going to make a scene, but then someone had cleared their throat as though reminding them that they had an avid audience. Her father may have refrained from making a public scene, but she knew it wasn’t over.

  She pushed thoughts of her father to the back of her
mind as she continued marching toward her destiny. This really felt like a genuine wedding. It definitely wasn’t the simple legal arrangement she’d envisioned. Franco had arranged for a truly authentic wedding including a white lace wedding gown. Oh, and let’s not forget the flowers. They were gorgeous plum and blush peonies with greenery to accent the bouquet.

  With all the attention to detail that had been put into the day, she was beginning to think there was a whole other side to her soon-to-be husband than she’d originally imagined. The next several months might not be the utter drudgery she’d been imagining.

  When she neared her intended groom, she noticed that he cleaned up quite well. He wore a black tux with a black necktie and a crisp white shirt. It looked very sharp on him. He’d shaved, and his hair was still damp from a shower.

  She could scarcely believe this was really happening—a wedding born out of desperation for the two things she loved most—her beloved father and the restaurants where she’d spent so much of her childhood. Because if she didn’t make this big sacrifice today, there was a great possibility she’d lose both of them. And that couldn’t happen—she wouldn’t let it happen.

  The longer she stared into Franco’s dark, mesmerizing eyes, the more solid her steps became. This was going to work out. She’d picked the right partner. Franco wanted this business deal to succeed as much as she did.

  As for that rap-a-tapping of her heart, well, that was just nerves. Pure and simple. Because there was no way the best man from her cousin’s wedding had gotten past the carefully laid wall around her tattered heart.

  She’d already let one man get close, only to find that she couldn’t trust him, and he’d shattered more than just her heart—he’d stolen away her trust, not only in men but in her own judgment. But she wouldn’t have that problem with Franco. Her heart wouldn’t be on the line.

  She continued toward him. She was almost there. She could feel his unease with this whole arrangement. She could totally sympathize.