I invited myself to Maro’s apartment again on Wednesday night. This time he wasn’t working in his office, he wore running shorts and a tank top, and was covered in a fine sheen of glistening sweat.
My tongue swiped across the inside of my teeth like I wanted to lick him.
“The, um, the caterer is all booked.” I followed him into the kitchen staring at his tight butt the entire way.
He stopped at the fridge and sculled a bottle of water. Even watching him drink turned me on. I leaned against the countertop a safe distance from him.
“My family have responded and are all staying at the resort.”
He threw the empty bottle into the trash can.
“Have you heard from your family?”
He searched my face with his gaze.
“What? Do I have something on my face?”
“No.”
“So, your family?”
“Yes, they’re coming, but they’d like to meet you this weekend.”
“Oh, okay, I can do that.”
“That easy?”
“Well, yes, it makes sense, right? You met my family. I should meet yours before the big day.”
He grimaced.
“Don’t you want me to meet them?”
“It’s not that, it’s … I’m thinking this was a bad idea.”
My heart kicked against my rib cage.
“If you want to call the wedding off, do it,” I said, my throat so thick the words almost didn’t come out.
He thrust a hand through his damp hair. “It might be for the best.”
“Okay,” I whispered. I spun so fast the room whirled.
Marco was there in an instant, hands on my shoulders keeping me from falling over.
“Are you all right? You looked like you were about to pass out.”
“I’m okay.” I wriggled in his hold, but he didn’t let go and I inhaled his masculine sweaty scent. My body surged with a sudden need for the man.
His gaze dropped to my heaving chest and the hard points of my nipples.
“Forget what I said,” he mumbled.
“About?” I blinked to clear the haze of desire, but it didn’t work.
“We’re getting married and that’s it. No more negotiations.”
“Okay,” I whispered.
“Good girl,” he said, then his lips landed on mine.
We both froze. Lips against lips. What the hell was this? A kiss or not? I slammed my eyes shut against the glare of his gray eyes. Did he want me to make the first move? Kiss him? Open my mouth and thrust my tongue inside his? Because that’s what I wanted to do.
But I didn’t.
We stood there for agonizing seconds. Neither of us was willing to do anything or end this standoff.
My phone buzzed in my back pocket.
We jumped apart, and I wrenched out my phone and checked the notification.
“The band confirmed,” I said to clear the tension in the air.
“What sort of band?” His eyebrows dipped into a frown.
“It’s a surprise for you.” I grinned.
“Not some boy band or girly shit, is it? Or heaven forbid jazz?” His lip curled up into a grimace.
“Ha, you shouldn’t have left the wedding planning to me.” I stepped over to the fridge and took out a can of soda, any excuse to move away from him and put distance between us and the weird kiss that’d come out of nowhere and was not even an actual kiss.
“What else do I need to know about this wedding of ours?”
“We’re having pastel-pink peonies.”
“What are those?”
“Flowers. Expensive ones.”
“Planning on making me pay big for this wedding?”
“Well, you blackmailed me into it.” I hopped up onto the countertop and swung my legs.
“Negotiated.”
I waved my hand. “So, what is your family like?”
“No way.” He smirked. “You let me go in blind to meet your family, as if I’d give you information about my family.”
“Come on, that was your fault for not asking first. At least I’m asking.”
“You’ve met them before anyway at Prue’s pool parties.”
“Not the same as being your fiancée.”
“I guess.” He folded his arms over his sweaty chest. “I don’t know, they’re my family, they’re all nice to me.”
I snorted. “So, they don’t see your asshole side?”
“No, I reserve that for work and special people.”
I placed a hand on my chest. “Are you saying I’m special?”
He shook his head. “Kennedy, you’d have to be for me to consider having you as my wife.”
“Wife of convenience. Don’t forget that.”
“How could I? They’re my terms, but it doesn’t mean we can’t have a little fun while married.”
“We’re having lots of fun already.” I sipped the soda.
“We could have much more if you’d ask.” He stepped closer until my feet nudged him on every swing back and forth.
“Here.” I held the bottle out. “Looks like you need to cool off, you’re all sweaty.”
He wrapped his firm fingers around the bottle trapping mine underneath his, lifted the bottle to his lips, and drank.
“You like me sweaty.” His voice dropped to that deep husky tone that sent a shiver down my spine. “You want me to make you sweaty too.”
My feet stopped swinging. He stepped closer until our legs grazed.
“Say the words and I’ll make you a very dirty, sweaty girl.”
I slid off the countertop, my chest brushed against his on the way down. The masculine scent of his sweat invaded my senses even more, but I tilted my chin up with more steel than was inside me and met his gaze. I wouldn’t ask him, as much as I wanted to.
“When are you picking me up to meet your parents?”
His jaw clenched. “Saturday, seven o’clock, for dinner. Wear something sweet and demure.”
I crossed my arms. “You’re telling me what to wear?”
“Wear something sexy if you want them to compare you to my supermodel ex-fiancée.”
I narrowed my eyes. “Screw you.”
He cupped the back of my head and lowered his mouth to my ear. “You will.”
Goose bumps exploded along my skin. His palm molded to my skull and kept me a prisoner. His prisoner. And I didn’t want him to let me go.
But he did.
The instant his hold dropped I stepped back.
“I’m showering,” he said. “You can join me if you like or let yourself out.” He stripped the tank top over his head.
Miles upon miles of rock-hard abs glistened. I stared for way too long then backed up out of the room and fled his apartment before my will crumbled even further.
Chicken sounds once more clucked inside my head.
****
“Mom, Dad, this is Kennedy,” Marco introduced me to his parents at their estate. “Kennedy, this is Rachael and Joseph.”
Yep, an entire estate including a mansion, pool, pool house, manicured gardens of at least a hectare, and a guesthouse.
“Lovely to meet you,” Rachael said, kissing both my cheeks.
“Are you even old enough to get married?” Joseph asked.
I’d worn a sweet floral floor-length dress that made me appear younger than I was. Most of my clothes were on the younger side.
“I’m twenty-nine.”
“Lucky you,” Rachael said. “I have clients who’d kill to have your looks or pay me a small fortune to achieve them.” She laughed. “I suppose if everyone was like you, I’d be out of business.”
“I can see the appeal of a younger woman,” Joseph said.
Rachael tenderly backhanded her husband across the chest. He clutched her hand and kissed it.
“My dear, don’t harm the moneymakers.”
She laughed. “You’re such a scallywag.”
“It’s why you love me.”
She swooned into his arms. Literally. Like a scene from a movie. They were adorable and clearly loved each other. Why didn’t Marco want a relationship like theirs for himself?
“Come on into the dining room, your brothers are all here too,” Rachael said.
Marco placed his hand on my lower back and escorted me into the large dining room housing a marble table seating a dozen black leather chairs. They introduced me to his two brothers, their wives, and their many children. I didn’t realize he came from a big family. And they were wonderful, open and honest. Caring too. Throughout dinner we talked, laughed, and ate copious amounts of food. Marco was relaxed too. It was like he’d taken off his suit and tie and become a son, brother, and uncle.
Inside my chest, my heart warmed.
By dessert, I knew with certainty I liked Marco.
I should ask him for sex. God knows I wanted to have sex with him. A slow smile formed on my lips. Marco leaned over and kissed my cheek like it was the most natural thing in the world for him to do, then returned to his conversation with his brothers. Rachael grinned and tipped her champagne glass my way as though she approved of me, of our relationship.
But she didn’t know what this was.
It would never be what they had here.
Marco and I would never have children. Never share dinners like this with a family. We’d never have love.
No, I wouldn’t ask Marco for sex because if my growing feelings for him were any sign, then I might be in jeopardy of falling in love with him.
And he didn’t want love from me.
All he wanted was a woman to parade around as his wife for his job. I’d do well to remember that.
****
“Thanks for dinner,” I said as he pulled the Camaro to a stop in front of the Burberry mansion.
“You were quiet on the drive home.”
“Was I?” I brushed my fingers through my hair which I’d left down for him. The enormous diamond on the engagement ring tangled in my hair.
“Hold still,” he said, gently extracting my hair from around the ring.
With each caress of his finger, tiny shivers danced across my skin. He freed my hand and cupped it between both of his. Fire and heat flickered through my veins, but it was more than arousal for Marco as a man now, there was the pitter-patter of my heart inside my chest.
“Kennedy?”
“Hmm?”
Our gazes locked.
His tongue darted out and licked his lips.
“Thanks for tonight. You were perfect.”
I said nothing. I couldn’t.
His gaze dropped to my lips. “You’re beautiful too.” Then his gaze traveled back up to my eyes. “My family adored you.”
“Your family is lovely,” I said softly and drew my hand out from between his. “I should go.”
I needed to go before I asked him to kiss me. To take me back to his apartment and make love to me. I almost scoffed aloud. As if we’d make love. We didn’t even love each other. The well-timed reminder had me swinging open the car door and escaping to the front door of the mansion. Marco followed, watched while I keyed in the code, opened the door, and slipped inside, without him.
All I’d wanted was for Marco to take me in his arms and kiss me good night like a real fiancée.