The Accidental Elopement

by Maggie Dallen

  His mother and brother were still staring at him, waiting for him to explain. “I need you both to trust me a little while longer. I think I have a plan.”

  Maybe. His own nasty words from the night before echoed in his ears. Hopefully.

  Ryan shot up from the couch and grabbed his coat which was hanging over a stack of boxes as his brother’s voice called out to him. “Hey, where do you think you’re going?”

  * * * *

  Lucia’s night was a disaster. Her tables were rude, the kitchen kept messing up orders, and her tips were nonexistent.

  And Ryan hadn’t even been there.

  Not that Lucia had wanted to see him after the horrible way they’d left things, but still. She kinda had. Okay, she’d really wanted to see him, if for no other reason than to give him a piece of her mind about jumping to conclusions. Who did he think he was acting like he knew all about her and her family?

  He still thought Daniel was her family. Lucia ripped off her apron. She was sick of feeling guilty about her lies of omission. She didn’t owe Ryan anything. If he got that bent out of shape over Daniel, she could only imagine what he’d think once he found out she was the daughter of the wealthiest man in Italy—one of the wealthiest people in all of Europe.

  But it didn’t matter because he wasn’t here and she wasn’t going to tell him anyway. She’d learned her lesson about telling the truth.

  Lucia grabbed her purse from the back room and said her goodbyes to the kitchen staff. The only other front of house employee left was the alternate bartender who hadn’t been nearly as patient with Lucia’s clumsiness as Ryan was. She had suffered under his judgmental glares all night, and she’d only broken one glass. One. Ryan would never have been so critical—he would have been nice.

  That was what hurt the most about the whole situation—the fact that she’d been so wrong about him. From the moment she’d met him, he’d always seemed so sweet. There was a kindness in his eyes and a way of finding the humor no matter what was going on around him. She’d been drawn to that just as much as she’d been tempted by him physically.

  For the millionth time that day, her mind flashed on the look of disdain in his eyes when he’d called her a spoiled brat. Apparently even kind, sweet Ryan couldn’t see past her wealthy family. She inhaled sharply. She would not cry.

  She wrapped her coat tightly around her as she walked out into the crisp night. The irony of her situation wasn’t lost on her. The last love interest in her life was drawn to her because of her family and now this one spurned her for it. She couldn’t win.

  A bitterly cold wind smacked her in the face and she pulled up her hood. She hadn’t gone more than two steps in the direction of her subway when she heard her name called. Whipping around she saw Ryan running toward her, his head tipped down against the wind. Her pulse started to race. Stop it. He’s probably here to yell some more. Tell you how entitled and spoiled you are. But her mental scolding was useless. Her heart kept beating like she was running a marathon. Dammit.

  When he reached her he stopped and they stood there for a moment, each waiting for the other to speak. “What are you doing here?” Lucia bit out

  “I, uh…I wanted to see you,” Ryan said, shifting from foot to foot. “I wanted to apologize.”

  His words coiled through her, warming her from the inside out. He wanted to see her! He wanted to apologize! Lucia bit her lip to keep from smiling as struggled with what to say to that. What did that mean?

  He shoved his hands in his pockets and glanced up at her, a sheepish, apologetic little smile warming her from head to toe.

  No, no, no. She would not be won over that easily. Crossing her arms over her chest, she tried her best to remain strong. “So apologize.”

  His smile faltered a bit at that response.

  Good.

  “What I said about you being a spoiled brat was rude and uncalled for.” He looked at her then, as if it was her turn to talk.

  Lucia stiffened. That was it? Apparently he picked up on her annoyed silence because he started talking again. “And the other thing….” He made a ridiculous hand gesture to her mouth and then his.

  “The kiss?” she prompted.

  “Yeah, that.” He shoved his hands into his pockets. “That should never have happened. That was a mistake.”

  A mistake. All the warmth she’d felt evaporated. She was frozen to the core. Air was coming a little too quickly as her lungs struggled to keep pace with her rapidly shifting emotions as her initial excitement was replaced with a sudden and intense burst of anger and pain. So that’s what he felt bad about. Kissing her. Her hands clenched at her sides as she struggled to regain control.

  “You call that an apology?” she said.

  Ryan straightened at the harshness in her voice.

  Dammit, she hadn’t meant to come across as a harpy but for the love of God, he just stood here and told her that kiss—that unbelievable, heart-melting, once-in-a-lifetime kiss had been a mistake.

  And sure, maybe she had said the same thing only hours before to Holly and Ivy…but she’d lied. She’d thought it had meant something. That there was something there between them. Chemistry at the very least. For the first time in her life she’d been treated like a woman. She’d felt like a woman. And he thought it was a mistake.

  “I-uh….” Ryan’s eyes crinkled up in confusion. “I think maybe that came out wrong.”

  “No, I understand you.” Lucia barely recognized the cold voice speaking. But anger was good—it was so much better than the pain that threatened to cripple her. She clung to that anger, keeping her voice even. “I get it. You feel badly that you kissed me and then called me names.”

  Ryan flinched. “Yeah, I mean, that’s not what I intended—”

  Lucia held up a hand to stop him. “I get it. But that was a terrible apology. I mean, English isn’t my first language, but even I know that an apology usually involves the words ‘I’m sorry.’”

  And then he did it. He tilted his head and took his hands out of his pockets so he could hold her own in his. Then he gave her that tender, sweet, kind, amazing look that made her want to curl up against him and call it home.

  “Lucia,” he said, his blue eyes never leaving hers. “I’m sorry.”

  She didn’t want to cave. She could feel the anger seeping away even as she tried to grasp onto it. But there it was. The bastard stole her anger. Unfortunately all that remained was a bitter sadness, which she’d been trying to avoid and ignore for the past twenty-four hours.

  “Look,” she said on a sigh. “I don’t need your apologies and I don’t want to hear about what a mistake it was that we kissed.”

  He was studying her with something annoyingly close to concern but he didn’t push it. Instead he reached out one hand and brushed away a lock of hair that the wind had blown across her face. “Okay then, do you want to talk about our wedding?”

  Lucia froze. The wind had picked up and she was certain she’d misunderstood. Her English skills always fell short when she was emotional. Obviously he hadn’t just said—

  Ryan fell onto one knee with a wicked grin. “Lucia Jones. Will you make the happiest…and wealthiest…man alive and be my bride?”

  Lucia’s heart threatened to leap out of her chest with unexpected happiness. He was proposing. Ryan was proposing! Her hands flew to her heart as she struggled to catch her breath.

  For one insane, ridiculous moment it didn’t matter about money. She was just ecstatic, pure and simple. As if this was a real proposal and she was a normal girl head over heels in love.

  So ridiculous. But still, her rational mind couldn’t dampen her joy. If he was serious about going through with the marriage, she would have it all. Her career, her future…

  And the chance to spend more time with Ryan.

  That was not what this was about. But it was a perk, she supposed, that she had a crush on the man who was currently proposing on one knee.


  She couldn’t stop the laugh that escaped her. Clapping a hand over her mouth she tugged him to his feet as the clouds overhead parted and droplets of rain fell on their heads.

  “Are you serious?”

  Ryan nodded. “You’re right. It makes sense. I mean, it’s crazy but it makes sense. We both need money and a way to get it is just sitting there staring us in the face.”

  “Right,” Lucia said. A flicker of disappointment stunned her for a moment. But that was silly—this marriage idea had always been about one thing, and one thing only. Money. Finally, she would have her dream career….and get to spend time with her crush in the meantime. Giddy excitement had her grinning up at him. “And all we have to do to get it is lie.”

  She tilted her head to the side, drawing a little closer so he could hear her over the rain and wind and traffic. “Somehow I don’t think that should be too hard for us. What do you think, Ryan Smith?”

  Chapter 7

  Twenty-four hours and multiple cups of coffee later, Lucia was at a cheap, seedy motel a few blocks away from the Las Vegas Strip staring at Ryan across the divide that separated their twin beds. Well, this was romantic.

  Ryan had his laptop sitting next to him. “So, uh, it looks like I’ll need your name.”

  He held up the screen as if offering proof and there it was, the Clark County marriage license application. Lucia’s heart took a nosedive.

  This had been her idea, she reminded herself as her stomach twisted itself into a knot. She’d convinced him they had to act quickly. That time was of the essence. And it was. They had to get this sham of a wedding over with before her friends and family got wind of her plans and intervened. And before Ryan had a chance to change his mind. It had been her idea to jump on the next flight to Vegas. But still….

  He raised a brow at her silence. “Having second thoughts?”

  “No.” That had come out a little too loudly if Ryan’s little smile was anything to go by. Lucia flopped back against the pillows. “Okay, maybe.”

  It was stupid. Ridiculous, even. She was not a romantic. She’d never been one to sit around daydreaming about her wedding day, not even when she’d been engaged to Marco. But here, now, when she was hours away from eloping….suddenly all she could think of was what her wedding should be. Without even realizing she’d done it, at some point in her life she’d gone and planned it. And it wasn’t in Vegas.

  It had to be at the villa. Her home. And her grandfather would walk her down the aisle while her family and friends looked on. It wasn’t about the dress or the decorations, it was about the people. And the person. She was supposed to marry a man she loved more than anything else in the world. He was supposed to look at her the way her grandfather looked at her grandmother when she was alive—the way Daniel looked at Ivy and the way Jack looked at Holly.

  Her future husband was supposed to love her and she was supposed to love him. They were supposed to trust one another but Lucia couldn’t even bring herself to tell Ryan her true last name. She didn’t want to see that look of disgust on his face ever again and that’s what would happen if he learned how privileged her upbringing had truly been.

  Lucia blinked back tears as she stared up at the ceiling. This was not how it was supposed to be.

  She heard Ryan get up and then the mattress beside her sank as he lay down beside her so they were both staring up at the ceiling. “We don’t have to go through with this, you know.”

  Lucia continued to stare at the ceiling, which was a disgusting mural of water stains, cobwebs, and dust. Of course she didn’t have to go through with this. No one was going to put a gun to her head and make her marry. It had been her idea. Granted, she would feel bad about the flight Ryan had just paid for but it wouldn’t be the end of the world. They could return to New York, she would pay him back for the flights, and this whole thing would be forgotten.

  And she would still be waiting tables while Gretchen and the others got their big breaks in the fashion world. Maybe, just maybe, she could scrimp together enough to go to school for design a year from now.

  A year of waiting, drawing, sketching….for nothing and nobody. It would be her “little hobby,” like Marco used to call it. Her heart twisted in pain at the thought.

  She wasn’t aware she’d let out a heavy sigh until Ryan mocked her by echoing with an even louder and more pitiful sigh. When she turned her head to the side to see him, she found herself looking straight into his eyes. Their faces were so close they were practically touching. His lips were right there, all she had to do was shift a little and they would meet in the middle.

  But she wouldn’t. This was a business arrangement, not a romantic getaway and certainly not a real elopement. The most efficient way to mess up this whole arrangement would be to complicate it by getting physical…again. Not that he even wanted to, he’d made it abundantly clear that he’d thought that epic kiss had been a mistake.

  That line of thought brought about another sigh and this time Ryan openly laughed in her face.

  “Oh, come on, princess, it’s not that bad.”

  Princess. Principessa. The old nickname was as good as a slap across the face. Lucia frowned and her voice came out harsher than intended. “Don’t call me that.”

  Ryan’s brows shot up.

  “Princess,” she said. “Don’t call me that, I hate that nickname.”

  Ryan turned onto his side so he was facing her. “Something tells me there’s a story there.”

  Lucia rolled her eyes and turned her face back up toward the ceiling—the safe, not even remotely sexy, stained ceiling. “Of course there’s a story there, but it’s not a terribly interesting one.”

  “Hit me.”

  Lucia turned to him in surprise. “I’m sorry?”

  “Hit me,” he said again. And then, when she reached out and smacked his shoulder he laughed. “That’s just an expression.”

  “Oh.” She knew that. It had taken her a second though to register the meaning and in that time she realized he had given her the perfect opportunity she’d been hoping for since the moment he’d called her spoiled. Who was she to look a gift horse in the mouth?

  “So,” Ryan prodded. “The story?”

  “It’s about my family…” she started. The family he knew nothing about. Guilt gnawed at her.

  “Even better.” Ryan reached over and pushed a curl behind her ear. “We’re supposed to convince people that we’re madly in love and I barely know anything about you.”

  He had a point there. Maybe she wasn’t giving him enough credit. He’d apologized for his initial response to finding out she was an heiress, perhaps it was time to be totally honest about herself and her family. They may not be a real couple but they were in a partnership of sorts. And a partnership of any kind required trust, she could all but hear her grandfather’s voice say.

  “I mean, all I know is that your name is Lucia, you hail from Italy and you’re somehow related to Daniel Gladwell. Oh, and I also know that you’re a terrible waitress.”

  “Hey!” She reached over and smacked him again for good measure. “Only two of those statements are true.” She ticked them off on her finger. “My name is Lucia….but it’s not Jones.”

  She laughed as Ryan pretended to be shocked by this announcement. “And the other truth?”

  “I’m from Italy,” she said with a roll of her eyes. “Obviously.”

  There was a silent pause and she glanced over to see Ryan still watching her but with an intensity that hadn’t been there before. “So you’re not related to Daniel Gladwell?”

  Lucia laughed. “No. I don’t know what he told you but he’s a family friend, not my big brother, though he likes to act like it.” She glanced over and added, “In his defense, he acts like an overprotective older brother with most people he cares about. Except Ivy, of course. She’s the only one who keeps him in check.”

  Ryan was oddly silent. When she looked over his expressio
n was unreadable. “Are you okay?”

  That snapped him out of it. The friendly smile was back and it was like that momentary lapse had never happened. “Fine. Just surprised to learn you’re not related to Daniel.”

  Her brows rose in a questioning look and he quickly added, “I mean, that’s a relief. Pretty sure I wouldn’t have a job in the morning if I ran away with the big boss’s little sister.”

  Lucia couldn’t help but laugh at that. They’d only talked numbers in general terms and she was fairly certain Ryan didn’t really understand just how much money he would be coming into if this plan succeeded. That statement confirmed it. She’d tell him exactly how wealthy he was about to become….eventually. For now, she said, “Ryan, if we go through with this you won’t need a job.”

  Ryan’s smile only grew bigger but he didn’t reply. He did however sit up and wrap one leg around her so he was effectively straddling her on the bed, his hands pinning her arms to the sides.

  The suddenly intimate position left her breathless but Ryan was wearing a teasing grin and his eyes were dancing with mischief. “Tell me, my maybe, sorta, almost wife-to-be….are you ticklish?”

  Lucia gasped in horror and immediately started struggling beneath him. After a few seconds of wriggling she realized that he’d gone utterly still. He was frozen above her, his hands still gripping her arms firmly. The atmosphere in the air shifted; it grew heavy and thick. Lucia sucked air into lungs that were suddenly desperate for oxygen and saw Ryan’s gaze dropped to her breasts, watching the rapid rise and fall as she struggled to catch her breath. She shifted slightly beneath him before freezing. Oh God, she could feel the hard length of him pressed against her thigh.

  They stayed like that, frozen like a statue, struggling for air, waiting and watching. Lucia’s mind grew fuzzy with lust as her gaze focused on his lips. She waited for him to close the distance between them and just the thought of continuing that kiss was enough to leave her wet and aching.

  He was so close. This was happening…it was actually happening.