A massive mistake.
Maybe once Susan was settled and Katie was away from the horror foster father Alessandro could indulge in a liaison with her, but until then it was too complicated.
‘Do you want to head up to the suite or shall we take a look around first?’ He offered her the choice to check how she was feeling.
She eagerly accepted the safe option. ‘Let’s look around.’
He grimaced wryly. Yeah, she didn’t want to be alone with him. To her he was the big, bad wolf. And she was right to be wary. He did want to eat her. He’d pounce the second she suggested it.
Instead he followed her into the bar, abandoning any idea of a rational discussion until morning. They were both too tired and tense. Having a moment to lighten up would be good for them. But there was no reason why he couldn’t keep teasing her—just a little. To deny himself that last little pleasure with her would be a step too far, and Alessandro wasn’t accustomed to self-denial.
The bar was three-quarters full already—people were out to enjoy themselves in all the ways they could in this town.
‘Look at the colours in that cocktail.’ Katie’s colourful eyes gleamed as they passed a table full of laughing women. ‘It’s beautiful.’
She sounded almost wistful as they took their seats in an intimate alcove with a view across the bar.
‘You don’t want to know what’s in it?’ Alessandro asked dryly, sinking into a seat that he knew was going to be far too comfortable.
‘Something that beautiful is bound to taste good, don’t you think?’ she smiled.
Her words struck home if he applied them to her. ‘You can have one,’ he growled.
Her gaze widened, then narrowed. ‘I asked you to marry me—not turn into my mother.’
The temptation to kiss her almost overwhelmed him and he grasped for self-control. ‘When did you last have an alcoholic drink?’
Her chin lifted higher and a mutinous look sharpened her eyes. But she didn’t reply.
Yeah, she’d never drunk alcohol...she’d never travelled. What else had she never done? Because there’d been inexperience in her kiss. Sweet, shy, hot, totally tempting inexperience.
There’d also been a burst of fire.
‘One,’ he reiterated unapologetically, and nodded to the waiter. Neither of them needed anything to fan the flames.
The waiter returned shortly, bearing a tray with the most outrageous cocktail Alessandro had ever seen. Given that he’d spent a large chunk of his adult life building hospitality venues, he’d pretty much seen every cocktail there was. This one featured bright green and orange layers of pure alcohol and vaguely resembled a vibrant parrot. Too late he realised that if Katie were to have more than two mouthfuls things might veer off course.
‘I’m not sure that—’
Too late. She’d already sipped.
‘Oh...’ She swallowed and sucked in a breath. Surprise widened her eyes. ‘It’s even more delicious than I imagined.’
Was this a thirst to drown her sorrows? Or cool her down?
Alessandro swiftly reached across and picked up her glass before she had the chance to lift it again. He was saving her from herself, he thought morosely. He swallowed the vile sweet liquid with an appalled grimace.
‘Whisky, please,’ he wheezed to the waiter, who hadn’t had a chance to get more than five feet away. ‘Double.’
‘You didn’t like it?’ Katie enquired meekly, but that tiny twinkle in her eyes gave her away.
He laughed, enjoying her flash of attitude. It was so much better than that cowed, fearful look he’d seen on her in his office. Now she had some sparkle.
‘You know I didn’t.’
He watched as she pushed back the sleeves of her schoolgirlish white blouse. He glanced around at the glittering interior of the bar and sternly told himself not to stare at the tiny amount of skin the action exposed. Since when was he fascinated by less than a square inch of skin? When his dates usually wore so much less?
Alessandro took a sip as soon as his whisky arrived, and cursed his inner devil who’d thought this was a good idea. Desperate for distraction, he pulled out his phone and realised he’d neglected to switch it on after the flight. He frowned as multiple messages from Dominque pinged. All asking him to call her urgently.
Before he could, the phone buzzed in his hand.
‘What is it?’ he asked tersely. Dominique wouldn’t bother him unless it was important.
‘Alessandro, I’ve been trying to get hold of you.’ Dominque sounded concerned. ‘Something’s come up in our research on White Oaks,’ she continued crisply. ‘Katie Collins’s engagement to Carl Westin was announced in the papers today.’
‘Pardon?’ He stilled, unsure he’d heard correctly.
He glanced at Katie. She was watching him, her hand tightening around her lurid drink, her eyes widening with fear as microseconds passed.
‘Katie’s engagement,’ Dominique repeated. ‘It only went online an hour ago—that’s why I missed it earlier.’
‘Where?’
Dominique told him the newspaper’s name.
‘I’ll call you back,’ he said briskly.
He reached out and took the glass from Katie’s hand.
‘What’s wrong?’ Her voice sounded thin and shadows had dimmed that earlier sparkle.
‘Have you checked your phone for messages?’
She rummaged in her bag and hauled out her phone. ‘Is it Susan?’ Tears sprang to her eyes. ‘I shouldn’t have left her. Not even for a day.’
She was actually shaking, and as she fumbled with her phone she dropped it.
‘It’s not Susan,’ he said quietly, scooping up the phone from the floor for her. ‘Breathe.’ His chest tightened at the concern in her expression. ‘It appears that your engagement to Carl was announced this afternoon.’
‘That’s not possible.’ Katie froze, her shocked gaze fixed on him. ‘I didn’t agree. I said no. I’d never agree.’
Yeah, Little Miss Bigamist she was not—but Brian had gone ahead and announced it anyway.
‘He can’t actually make me, can he?’ She snatched her phone from him and switched it on. ‘I’ve got lots of missed calls.’ She stared at it in horror. ‘Brian, mostly.’ She paled even more as she held the phone to her ear.
He could hear the berating tone of Brian’s message even from across the table. And he could also hear Katie’s breathing quicken.
His own anger pounded in his ears. Brian the bully was ramping up the attack, telling her the engagement was now public knowledge so she couldn’t bring shame on the family, couldn’t embarrass Susan. Susan who’d gone to bed, so distressed that Katie had left...
Alessandro reached out and took the phone from Katie, turning it off before tossing it onto the table between them. He rubbed his forehead, struggling to think clearly. He regretted the long flight and that one whisky, and all the hours in the last fortnight during which he’d worked and not slept. But he had to do something—anything to help ease Katie’s anxiety.
The obvious solution stared him in the face. They’d come this far so they might as well complete the picture. Right now it felt like the fastest, easiest option. The decision was easy.
He’d be the villain of the piece. The scoundrel who had seduced some other man’s fiancée away from him...
With the added scandalous frisson of the family connection between them, people were going to love the gossip. But Alessandro didn’t care about his own reputation. Right now all he cared about was clearing the panic from Katie’s face and stopping Brian from browbeating her into something she didn’t want.
They’d forced him out all those years ago, but Alessandro had his own resources now, and he had no one else to worry about. Katie had Susan, and without some extra support she’d be trapped.
‘Sho
uld I call him back?’ Katie asked in a horrified whisper.
‘No,’ he growled, but then softened his tone. Brian’s greed was coming to an end. ‘Not yet.’
She swayed a little as she stood. He put his hands on her shoulders to steady her and looked into her eyes.
‘You came to me for help, Katie. That’s what you want, right?’ he asked.
‘I want to know that Susan—’
‘I’ll ensure she’s okay. Trust me.’
The sooner Katie was tied to him, the more freedom he’d have to act on her behalf.
She stared up at him, the myriad of colours in her eyes reflecting a myriad of conflicting emotions—fear, mostly, but also hope, and a last hint of awareness.
‘Are you sure, Katie?’ he asked harshly. ‘You really want to do this?’
She looked exhausted and terrified and too damn trusting. All he wanted was her smile and those flashing little sparks in her eyes to come back.
She nodded. ‘Yes. Please.’
* * *
Katie stood still, her face cupped in strong but gentle hands. The lips moving over hers were warm and assured and teasing, sending flickers of temptation along her veins, stirring the yearning that ran so deep.
She moaned, her lips parting, seeking the slide of his tongue. She liked it when he—Yes... The trickle of sensation became a torrent within her and she moaned again. Like that. She liked it when he kissed her like that. Deep and gentle and powerful.
‘Katie...’
‘Mmm?’
The whisper confused her. How could he whisper her name like that while he was kissing her so passionately at the exact same time?
‘Katie?’
She breathed in deeply, not wanting to move, floating in a cocoon of warmth, relaxed and happy. She slowly blinked, opened her eyes and smiled.
And then immediately froze.
Reality rushed in on her with sickening speed. She wasn’t being kissed in some dream world. She was in bed and she wasn’t alone.
Alessandro Zetticci was only inches away, lying facing her, his head propped on his hand. There was an odd expression in his eyes.
‘You were moaning,’ he said, watching her too closely.
She couldn’t reply. Was he naked? The part of him she could see above the sheet covering them was naked. There was a vast expanse of bronzed, muscular torso on show.
Katie stared. She couldn’t breathe. Couldn’t move. Couldn’t speak.
‘Katie?’
‘What are you doing in here?’
He blinked and that wicked smile widened. ‘Should I leave?’ He pushed down the sheet.
‘No!’ Huge mistake. Huge. Oh. So huge.
The man just had everything, didn’t he? Long, powerful limbs. Long, powerful... Well, everything.
She hurriedly tugged the sheet back up to cover him. ‘You’re not wearing anything.’
He stared at her for a second and then seemed to take in a steadying breath.
‘Actually, I’m not quite naked,’ he corrected her. ‘I kept my boxers on—which is kind of me, given I don’t like underwear.’
‘Of course you don’t,’ she muttered desperately, wondering how on earth they’d—
‘I get a rash from cheap synthetic fabrics,’ he offered in explanation, but wicked humour danced in his eyes.
‘Are you sure it’s from the fabric?’ she snapped back before she could think.
He laughed as he rubbed a hand through his sinfully sexy, slightly-too-long-to-be-good hair. ‘I knew the kitten had claws...’ He drew in a deep breath and stretched out.
‘I’m not a kitten. But I am devastated to discover you’re not perfect.’
‘I never said I was perfect—that was your assumption.’ He grinned at her. ‘I prefer cotton, or silk—or, better yet, nothing at all.’ His eyes glinted.
He was a naturist? Wonderful.
They’d been in bed together. Of course it was nothing to him to get into bed with a woman—he did it all the time. But she didn’t. He was the most masculine thing ever to have graced her bed. Okay, he was the only thing ever to have graced her bed.
She swallowed as she remembered the madness of the night before.
‘Did we...?’ She trailed off, still distracted by all the skin he had on show.
His gaze narrowed on her. ‘Do you not remember?’
Her brain was too fried by the sight of him in all his near nude glory to remember her own name, let alone much else.
‘Did we—?’
‘Sleep together? Sure.’ His eyebrows lifted. ‘Katie,’ he said, as if lecturing an imbecile, ‘if we’d done anything more you wouldn’t need to ask. Your virtue is safe.’
Yeah, she’d figured that. Because while he might be all but naked she was still completely dressed. Her blouse, skirt, bra, panties...everything. But she was still mortified—so mortified.
‘We got married,’ she whispered.
He stilled and his teasing smile froze. ‘Yes, we did.’
She closed her eyes. She ought to feel relief. Wasn’t that what she’d wanted? Only all she could feel was heat.
That dream she’d been having was a memory, and she’d been reliving it. Her brain had picked the highlight to replay. Not those phone messages from Brian, nor that engagement announcement, nor Alessandro’s rapid, decisive response. Not even the fact that he’d marched her off and married her in less than an hour. All she could think about was the kiss that had sealed the deal.
‘Here.’
She opened her eyes. He’d picked something up from the bedside table and now held it out to her. She gingerly took the photograph, as if she was afraid it might spring to life and bite her.
It showed the two of them next to each other, posing alongside some random staff at the chapel who’d acted as their witnesses.
She read the caption. ‘There’s a download code for the video...’
‘You want to relive the magic?’ Alessandro picked up his phone.
Not really—because the flash flood of memories was scalding her with enough humiliation. But it was as if she was stuck on the roller coaster ride from hell.
‘We selected the music video option?’ she muttered as he scanned the code.
He grinned, apparently as relaxed as ever. ‘We’re in Vegas—there’s every option.’
He scooted a little closer so she could see the screen next to him.
She tried not to blush, but it was impossible.
Set to what she could only describe as a generic boy band ballad—a love song that she didn’t recognise but that sounded familiar—a series of appalling images flashed on the screen. She was in her ugly navy skirt and crumpled blouse, while he looked as unbearably handsome as ever, despite that long flight and the horror of the messages they’d got on landing. And he was smiling at her—a smile that made everything inside her light up.
Unable to tear her eyes from the small screen, Katie watched the playback of her exchanging vows and promising to honour him, to love him. In the video Alessandro was turning to her with a playful gleam in his eyes. He was framing her face and holding her still...
As if she’d have been able to run when he was looking at her like that. She’d been bolted in place—mesmerised not by his good looks, but by that look in his eyes. That dance of amusement, of warmth and wit underpinned by heat and hunger.
The second he swooped the camera zoomed in. And as a result almost the entire last minute of their wedding video showed them kissing. She watched herself ditch the posy of flowers the hotel had provided. She’d dropped it to the floor so she could slide her arms up his body and kiss him back. She’d forgotten anyone else was even present, let alone that there was a camera filming them.
Katie couldn’t tear her gaze from the final frozen frame. She’d got married in a cheap nylon
skirt. She’d looked just like all those other girls he’d kissed—as hungry, as willing... Except at the same time she didn’t. She wasn’t glamorous and beautiful and sex kittenish.
And she’d had stars in her eyes.
But he’d had laughter on his face.
Alessandro had pulled back from the kiss first. She’d leaned after him—literally swooning into his embrace. He’d held her upright, away from him. And then he’d laughed. He’d thrown his head back and laughed.
It was horrendous.
It wasn’t the over-the-top decor of the twenty-four-hour wedding chapel, or even her awful outfit and lack of anything pretty. It was the look on her face. She looked flushed and willing and it was so obvious. She looked infatuated. And everyone could see it.
Most of all him.
And now he was almost naked in her bed. But that was only because in her overwrought state at the end of last night she’d asked him to stay with her.
When they’d got back to the suite she’d turned to him with tears in her eyes and told him she was tired. He’d come to the bedroom with her and sat down beside her. He’d reassured her. He’d rescued her. He’d been a perfect gentleman.
And she must have fallen asleep a second later—like an incompetent, dependent child.
She’d never been as mortified in all her life.
Now he put his phone back on the table with telltale quickness and edged away.
Katie’s vulnerable heart thudded as she recognised the horrible truth.
He hadn’t wanted to do any of it at all.
* * *
Alessandro’s head was killing him. Tension, not a hangover. He’d stopped drinking to excess years ago—though admittedly he’d contemplated it earlier as a displacement activity, a distraction to deny the desire coursing through his veins. But he hadn’t. Because of Dominque’s call.
Hell and damnation.
He’d been so tired last night, so thrown by Katie’s visible distress, that he’d seen a quickie marriage as their only option. Memories flitted—her softness and the sweet but tart taste of apricots. He’d kissed her off her feet, and right now he was rocked by the urge to repeat the experience.
The Innocent's Emergency Wedding Page 6