Arranged Mafia Marriage

Luca

“Proposition? What do you mean?” She wriggles around, trying to make herself more comfortable on the bed. Her towel slips a little, revealing more of the curve of her tits. I watch, fascinated, as it stops just shy of revealing those ripe nipples of hers. Goddamn, if only I could get a taste. Why didn’t I bend my head and sample them earlier when I had the opportunity? Oh, right, I had been too taken aback by how beautifully she had orgasmed under my ministrations, that’s why.

“Luca?” She snaps her fingers. “My face is up here.”

“Oh, I know darlin’, just trying to decide whether I’ll suck on your nipples or your clit the next time.”

She inhales a sharp breath, and color smears her cheeks like blood dispersing in water. “There’s not going to be a next time.” She pulls the cover up over her shoulders, cutting off the sight of her gorgeous chest. Damn.

“You and I both know there will be, Angel.”

“Stop calling me that, and whatever your proposition is, I refuse.”

“Don’t be so hasty.” I lean back against the headboard. “You may find what I’m going to propose is the solution to all of your problems.”

“My only problem is that I’m stuck in a room with you, again. The only thing that’s changed is that there are no cameras in this space.”

“Easily rectified.” I reach under my pillow and pull out a phone, then open up the camera app and position it in her direction.

“What the hell?” She pounces toward it. I hold the phone up and out of her reach. “You bought a phone?” Her gaze widens. The cover slips a little, but her chest is still covered. Damn.

“At the service area, while you were freshening up,” I explain, while keeping an eye peeled for a glimpse of her boob on the screen. Sneaky? Yea, a little-okay, a lot. Filthy? Maybe. But you can’t blame me. She has the kind of gorgeous body that’s made for being worshipped.

“That’s how you called your brothers?” A furrow appears between her eyebrows. “You had a phone all this time?” She slaps her palms on her hips. “And don’t you dare film me, Luca.”

I lower the phone. “Oh, I’m not going to film the filthy things I can do to you; yet.”

“Not ever,” she huffs.

“It’s still early in our relationship. Give it time, and you’ll be asking for more than being filmed.” I scratch my chest. “Also, this is how they’re going to reach me. And now that they have my number, they’ll be tracking us.”

“Is that supposed to make me feel safe?”

“Being tracked by the Sovranos? You bet. Not even the FBI or the MI6 can do a better job of keeping us on their radar now.”

“Fine, so you spoke to your brothers. They’ll meet us later. Then we can bid each other goodbye.”

“No.” I yawn.

“What do you mean, no?” She stiffens.

“You’re coming back to Palermo with me.”

“I am returning to Palermo, but not with you.”

“Yes, you are.”Contentt bel0ngs to N0ve/lDrâ/ma.O(r)g!

“Why would I do that?”

“You have no other way of getting out of the country, do you? No passport, no tickets, no money.” I slide the phone back under my pillow. “Ergo, you need me, Angel.”

She scowls. “So, you’re going to take advantage of the fact that I’m at your mercy?”

“You bet.” I fold my arms under my neck and close my eyes. “I’ll be happy to loan you the money and make sure you get back to the theatre in time for the premiere of your musical, which is tomorrow.”

There’s silence for a few seconds, then she asks, “And what do you want in return?”

I crack one eyelid open. “How do you know I want something in return?”

“Don’t you?”

“I do.” I allow my lips to curve. “I want you to marry me.”

She blinks. “Excuse me?”

“You heard me. Marry me, Angel. Just long enough to convince my brothers that you are my real wife and get them off my back.”

She opens and shuts her mouth. “Let me get this straight. You want me to marry you, but not for real?”

“That is correct.”

“Why in the world would I do that?”

“Because my Nonna passed away recently, but before she did, she made it clear that she expected Seb, Massimo, Adrian, and me to marry within a month of her leaving us.”

“So, you want to make the spirit of your dead grandma happy by pretending to marry me?” She shakes her head in disbelief.

“Yes.”

“I still don’t understand. Your Nonna wanted all of you to marry within a month of her passing, so how will a fake marriage to me solve anything?”

“It will get my brothers off my back.”

“What about your brothers? Did they keep their promises to your grandmother?”

“Seb did. He got married for real. Massimo is likely to settle for an arranged marriage with the Mafia princess of a rival clan, even though he’s not happy about it. But I believe that’s where he’s headed. Adrian… Well… He’s the quietest, but also the one who’s most likely to pull a surprise. I wouldn’t put it past him to find his balls and finally propose to Cass, our housekeeper, who he has a thing for. Which leaves me.”

“You.” She narrows her gaze on my face.

“The one and only.” I grin. “You have to admit, I’m a hell of a catch. And I’ve decided to settle for you.”

“You’ve decided to settle for me?” She lowers her chin to her chest.

“Exactly.” I drum my fingers on my chest. “My brothers won’t quit nagging me until I settle down, and I have no plans to do so. Also, you need to make it back in time to star in your play. I’ll make sure that happens. All you have to do is pretend to be my wife.”

“You do realize, even if you manage to fool your brothers, you can’t hide the truth from your grandma, considering she’s now a spirit?”

“My point exactly. She’s a spirit; it doesn’t make a difference to her either way.”

“What the-” she splutters. “I can’t believe you said that.”

“It’s true, right? And I don’t mean for it to be disrespectful or anything, but she’s popped it, so it doesn’t make a difference to her. I mean, she’s hardly going to know if I’m married for real or not.”

“Of course she will.” Angel throws up her arms. “She’s probably up there right now, looking at us and shaking her head.”

“She is?” I glance up. “All I see is the shoddily painted over ceiling with a large water stain.”

“You know what I’m saying is true. You really shouldn’t be trying to fool someone who’s dead. And that it was her last desire to see you married… There’s something sacred about it.”

“It’s why I’m making this effort, aren’t I? I’m doing it to keep everyone happy, including myself.”

“Especially yourself,” she mutters.

“You bet. Only I can figure out what’s right for me, and getting married is not one of those things.”

“Hmph.” She purses her lips. “So, you want me to pretend to be your wife.”

I nod.

“So, no wedding ceremony or anything?”

I tilt my head. “Unfortunately, we may not have a choice in that. How else would they believe we’re married?”

“Can’t you tell them that we got married on the run or something?”

“You mean in the last twenty-four hours, during which time I was kidnapped, we were held by Freddie, then we escaped?”

“Hmm.” She purses her lips. “Maybe we could elope or something and say we got married then.”

“That could work, I suppose.” I scratch my jaw.

“And it’s not going to be permanent, right?”

I chortle. “In your dreams. I know I’m a catch, but if you think this marriage is anything other than a farce, think again.”

“Hold onto your knickers,” she scoffs. “First, only you would think you’re a catch which, let me hasten to clarify, you are not. Secondly, the only reason I’m asking is because I want to make sure that you don’t fall in love with me.”

“Fall in love?” I chuckle, then burst into laughter. “Love? Did I hear you use the L word? You think I’m going to fall in love… with you?”

“Don’t bust a gut. It has been known to happen. Men always fall for me, and then I have to walk away before it gets messy,” she sniffs.

“How many men have you been with, anyway?” I frown.

“None of your business.”

I narrow my gaze on her. “If you’re going to be my wife, I deserve to know.”

“Fake wife, and no, you don’t. My past is my own. I am under no obligation to tell you more.”

“Hmm.” I scrutinize her features. “I’ll get it out of you, one way or the other.”

She firms her lips. “How long is this farce supposed to last?”

“Until my family’s convinced our marriage is for real.”

“Which is how long?”

“As long as it takes,” I retort.

“Shouldn’t we put an outer limit to the time?”

“Are you anxious to spend more time with me?”

“Oh my god!” She throws up her hands. “Your ego is unreal.”

“Thank you.” I smirk.

“That wasn’t a compliment.”

“I’ll take it as one anyway.”

“And the time limit?”

“No time limit.”

She opens her mouth to speak and I hold up my hand. “This isn’t a negotiation. Either we do this my way, or we don’t do this at all. And you can figure out how to find your own way out of this country and back to your premiere in the next twenty-four hours.

She pales. Her entire body stiffens. Then, “Jerkwaffle,” I hear as she mutters under her breath.

“What’s that?” I drawl.

“Nothing.” She covers her mouth and pretends to cough. “I was just clearing my throat, that’s all.”

My lips twitch and I swallow the chuckle that wells up. Can’t remember the last time I was this entertained.

“So, what’s your answer?” I roll my shoulders. “I’m running out of time, Angel. Yes or no?”

Her eyes flash and color smears her cheeks. She draws in a breath, then tips up her chin. “I’ll do it, on one condition.” A sly look comes into her eyes. “I want a real proposal.”