Cowboy's Fake Fiancée: A Single Dad & A Virgin Romance
Page 21
She speaks up and I listen. “Someone or something wants us to find each other. We were meant for more than we ever even knew.”
“Exactly,” I say, glad she feels the same way, that I’m not just crazy. Maybe I am crazy. Maybe we both are. “Before, I felt crazy for having fallen in love with you so fast. But after I found out who you were, it made sense. I loved you because I always have. Since that time when you were on Katie’s bike and you fell.” Her face lights up and I know she remembers too.
“You skinned your knee and it kept bleeding and you were so scared. Do you remember what I told you?” I ask and she nods, her blue eyes on mine.
“You told me to hold onto you really tight, that I’d be okay.” She’s whispering, her gaze illuminated with the memory.
“And I told you that I’d always be there when you got hurt. That you could count on me to be there.” The memory leaves warmth spreading through every inch of me. And while it all makes perfect sense now, that we were always meant to be, that even then we loved each other, we had to part ways.
She had to chase her own demons. I had to love and lose Amanda to get Grace. But there’s more I need to say. “Everything that has happened to us up until now was preparing us for each other,” I say, lifting the ring. “Will you marry me?”
She hesitates and my heart sinks. She eyes me, then the ring, before her lips part. “For real? Or just for show?” Her eyes light up with humor and I can’t help it. I kiss her.
“For real,” I murmur against her lips as we lazily pull apart.
“This has to be against the rules,” She says, planting a quick kiss on my lips before smiling, “You’re coercing me.”
Amused at her wit and teasing, I ask, “Is it working?”
“Maybe,” she says, opening her eyes to look into mine. “Kiss me again and I’ll tell you.”
I kiss her, this time our tongues meet and it feels like heaven. She melts into me like she belongs in my arms. She fits me perfectly, and there’s nowhere I’d rather be than right here, with her. Forever.
But I end the kiss and pull back a bit. “You’re killing me,” I say, watching the way she shivers as my breath cools her damp lips.
“Oh, sorry,” she says, her face illuminated with joy and humor as she studies me once more. “Yes. Yes, please. I love you.” She leans in and I kiss her, finally feeling like everything is perfect.
“I’m the luckiest man in the world,” I whisper, needing her to know how I feel. I want to tell her everything in my heart, how lucky I am, that this is perfection. But she rises up a bit, her hand wrapping in a fist around the lapel of my shirt as she clings to me.
“Shut up and kiss me,” she says, pulling me closer.
THE END
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Traded To The Mob
Chapter 1
Louis lazily leaned against the door jamb as the tall promiscuous blonde left with her shoes in her hand. She was just one of many who passed through this door in the past few months.
“Louis,” his father said tautly, “you need a wife.”
“Scusami?” he asked and turned to his father, “you can’t be serious.”
“I am dead serious. I will not allow you to bring these whores into my home. These debauched ways of yours is bringing shame to our family name.”
“It’s the twenty first century, and it’s called entertainment. I have no need or desire to find myself bound to one woman for the rest of my life,” Louis stated and closed the front door.
“This is not a request, and if you do not find a wife, I will find one for you,” his father stated matter-of-factly.
Unbelievable, if it wasn’t enough that his father called the shots for everything related to the family business. He was now calling the shots on his life. But he knew better than to go against his father’s wishes. Stefano Angelino was one of the most feared Dons in Italian circles and he did not make idle threats. When he gave an order, everyone jumped, and if they didn’t, they simply disappeared. And being his father’s right hand man and advisor didn’t exclude him from this harsh reality.
He threw his hands in the air and shook his head, “Bene! I’ll find a wife if that pleases you,” he exclaimed.
There was a calculated silence as Stefano stood studying his son’s reaction. He may be considered an old fool where his children were concerned but he wasn’t born yesterday. He knew when he was being played, and right now Louis was simply in agreement for the sake of it. If he had to leave it up to his son to pick his own wife, who knows what wet rat he’ll drag into this house. With money at his every beck and call he could pay a woman to pretend to be his wife.
“I will pick your wife for you,” he said determined and by the look on Louis’ face, the curveball undeniably caught his son off guard.
“Is forcing me to marry not enough, now you wish to pick my bride?” Louis rambled off angrily. “If mother was alive she would not have allowed this at all.”
“You will have respect for the dead Louis,” he said and glared at his son, “Gino Benedetti and his family will be visiting us from America and you will ask for his daughter’s hand in marriage, capisci?”
He could see the cogs turning in his son’s head. The moment when it dawned on Louis that having Gino’s daughter as his daughter-in-law presented the opportunity to have a greater foothold in New York was perfect.
“You are marrying me off to Belinda? She’s a terrible match father; she’s a shy faded grey mouse.”
Stefano laughed and shook his head, “You haven’t seen her in almost ten years. How can you know what she is like now? You’ll ask for her hand in marriage, and that’s the end of it.”
Louis stared after his father in disbelief, this cannot possibly be happening? Belinda of all people is to become his wife. He walked over to the drinks cabinet and poured himself a whiskey, his brain kicking into gear. I will ask for her hand in marriage father, but you can only lead a horse to the water, he thought wickedly and tossed the amber liquid down his throat.
Chapter 2
Belinda tuned out her friend Natalie’s constant nagging about weight loss, Banting this, and Banting that, she was Italian for god sakes and had no time for fad diets. Italians lived to eat, it was their culture, hence the fact that she loved her job as the head chef and manageress at her father’s restaurant. She may have spent all her teenage years in New York, but she still kept her Italian heritage. She looked at the stock list again and then handed it to her friend.
“This should be enough to last you for the next two weeks. And before you know it, I’ll be back,” she said sounding almost too positive. She hated having to leave the restaurant in someone else’s care. Even if Natalie was her most trusted friend and the best sous chef she ever had the pleasure to work with, she hated shifting her responsibilities unto others.
“I’ll be fine Bee, I promise and so will the restaurant. You won’t have a thing to worry about,” her friend reassured her.
“I know. It’s just that two weeks is such a long time to be away from El Pescore. I still think I can convince my father to let me stay behind,” she said tapping her index finger on her lips.
“You haven’t had a vacation in over three years, and you love Italy, so now is your chance. Just go and come back in one piece,” Natalie said and tugged the stock list out of Belinda’s hand. “And if you happen to find a hot Italian hunk, get his number.”
Natalie laughed and took off her apron, hanging it on the hook, “Trust me, if I can help it, I’ll avoid them all. Italian men are arrogant and ostentatious, especially the newer generation. To them status is more important than common decency.”
She knew all too well how Italian men operated. Her father was a typical example. Since she can remember, her mother had to always do as she was told. And even though her mother hardly ever complained, she knew that, that w
as not the life she would want for herself.
If she ever did marry, it would be to a gentle soul who gave as much as he took. She would marry a man with a heart of gold and a love for food, one who would love her with her extra padding and all.
“Belinda, the shuttle is here,” her father called from the office.
“Coming papa,” she responded and hugged Natalie, “If you need anything, just email me, I’ll be online.”
“Stop fussing so much, we’ll be fine and I promise you, El Pescore will still be standing when you get back.”
She glanced around the kitchen one last time and then took her purse and headed out to the shuttle. Maybe this holiday was just I need, she the shuttle pulled away. She was going to enjoy herself and come back refreshed and ready to take the bull by the horns.
Chapter 3
It’s been a while since she last visited Palermo, but even after all these years nothing much had changed. There were still many thriving market places in nearly every corner and small apartments were stacked high above the streets giving their occupants a bird’s eye view of the hustle and bustle below.
They exited Palermo, leaving behind the crowded streets and made their way along the winding road through the vineyards towards Villa Valentina Paci. She couldn’t help but notice her father’s mood deteriorate the closer they got to their destination, it was as if he was drawn into himself more now than ever before.
“Everything okay papa?” she asked placing her hand on his.
“Of course tesoro, why do you ask?” he said and smiled.
“You just seem quiet, that’s all.”
“It’s been a long trip, I’m just tired,” he said and squeezed her hand.
It was a valid reason but she couldn’t help but concern herself over his wellbeing.
As they approached the gate to the Villa, she noticed the two armed men on either side of the entrance as the gate automatically opened. Their presence sent a cold shiver down her spine. Why on earth would Mr. Angelino have armed guards? She wondered briefly. They finally pulled up to the front of the magnificent Sicilian styled house with its rustic yet modern appearance. And although they were well off, and lived in a luxurious house in the suburbs in NY, this place was far grander than the house they owned.
It wasn’t long before two men exited the house. The older one of the two, presumably her father’s old friend Stefano, was the first to rush down the stairs to greet them.
“Vicchio amico, I’m glad you finally came to visit. It’s been too long,” he greeted and kissed her father on his cheeks, “This must be your be your lovely daughter.”
“Stefano, old friend, it has been long,” her father greeted in return and then stepped back, “Belinda, this is Stefano Angelo, and is his son Louis.”
Belinda smiled, “It’s a pleasure to meet you,” she said softly trying not to pay too much attention to Louis. She had to mentally force herself not to look at him in an attempt to calm her frantic heart.
Natalie was right, Italian men were hunks, and this one was no exception. He had this air of grandeur that made the sun look like a fading lamp in the fog. Dressed in a suit, with his hair impeccably styled, he looked like he stepped out of a fashion magazine. And if his mere presence wasn’t enough, he took her hand in his, which sent a spark of desire shooting through her body.
“Bella,” he said and then brought her hand to his lips, “what a pleasure to finally meet you again. I’ve heard so much about you.”
She was quite surprised by his remark and the fact that she was being discussed at all, since she had no real memory of meeting him when she was younger.
“I trust it was all positive?” she said smiling and withdrew her hand.
“Nothing negative can be said about such a beautiful creature,” he remarked and stepped aside as his father led them into the house.
Not only was he good looking but he could charm a bird out of a tree, she thought feeling his eyes burn into her back. She couldn’t wait to tell Natalie about Prince Charming. It’ll give her a good laugh.
One of the servants of the house came and collected their luggage and the four of them made their way through the house to the terrace. The house was even more beautiful on the inside, and its casual layouts evoked an Old World charm. The interior decorator clearly had an inherent eye for design and the incredibly refined mosaics that adorned the walls simply captivated her.
Chapter 4
Louis studied his unsuspecting soon-to-be-bride as she scrutinized the food and he couldn’t help but smile. She was literally picking at every morsel of food analyzing the textures and the tastes, most likely looking for cooking flaws.
“Is the food to your liking?” he asked her and immediately drew her attention.
“Oh it is, you must have a very skilled chef,” she said smiling, and although he could see the slight blush in her cheeks, she kept her poise.
“I believe you are a master chef back in America,” he stated and took a sip of his wine.
“Hardly a master, but I know my way around the kitchen and I know what people like to eat,” she said confidently.
She isn’t exactly my type, he thought as he studied her. She was on the shorter side, and curvy, a complete contrast to the women that normally shared his bed. He also preferred blondes; she had long black curly hair that fell loosely over her shoulders and down her back. She was a little too average for his liking, but even so, she was not unsightly. He could definitely work with this and once she was his wife, he would ensure that she was treated to a makeover.
He heard her clear her throat and realized she was staring at him. Caught red handed he lifted his glass to his lips and kept eye contact with her over the brim of the glass until she averted her gaze. Shy – that was nothing short of adorable, he thought and smiled.
“Louis, why don’t you go show Belinda the winery, I’m sure she would love to see it?” his father suggested. And so it starts, the game of ultimate seduction. He still had no idea why his father insisted on taking her as his bride. But going against his father’s wishes was not a chance he was willing to take. Besides, if he grew tired of her nothing would stop him of having a string of very willing mistresses.
He stood up and walked around the table then held out his hand for her, “Would you like to see the winery, signora?” he asked.
Instead of taking his hand she shifted her chair back and got up then kissed her father on his forehead and whispered something in his ear. She was rather mysterious. Just when he thought she was a shy and insecure mouse, who would easily be swayed, she acted the complete opposite, strong willed and determined.
“I’ve always been intrigued by wineries,” she said as they walked down the pebbled path.
“It is an art to create the perfect wine. It has been the essence and life source of our family for decades and is one of the most well-known brands in Italy. It started with my great grandfather who planted the first vineyard and it simply grew from there.”
She was intrigued by the whole process, and although she did have some knowledge of how wine was made, she didn’t know the details of how red wine was made differently from white wine. He explained to her that red wine is made from the pulp by fermenting the grapes with their skins, while white wine is made by fermenting the juices. He showed her the fermentation process and then took her through to where the grapes were being foot trodden, and for a moment she wanted to kick her shoes off and join the workers.
They spent most of the afternoon in the cellar where she got to taste some of the wines, and by nightfall, she felt all but normal. Her head was spinning a little and she felt braver than usual, even a little flirtatious.
“So, do you have a girl friend?” she asked boldly as she wrapped her arms around one of the poles in the cellar. It was to have something to steady herself than anything else.
“That is a rather random question to ask a complete stranger,” he said laughing. And his laughter sent a shiver through her.
Woah, that’s a little over the top Belinda, she scolded herself as he threw his head back laughing. But for the life of her, she could not control herself even if she wanted to. It was as if all her thoughts were about to pour out of her mouth like water from a burst water pipe.
“No bella, I have no woman sharing my bed. Not yet anyway,” he teased standing far too close for comfort.
She inhaled deeply and then breathed out, blowing her hair away from her forehead. “I’m sorry, it was a little rude asking you such a private question. It must be the wine that is influencing my filters,” she apologized and moved away from him, half stumbling until she leaned against one of the wine barrels.
He moved closer as if she was his prey and as he reached out he ran his fingers up her bare arm, “It appears that the truth serum is working as expected,” he said huskily.
“I-I’m n-not much of a t-truth serum fan,” she stammered and slipped out from under his burning gaze and scooted along the wall. He was just far too intense.
Chapter 5
There was something about her innocence that attracted him on a level he was not accustomed to. And for reasons beyond his understanding, he had to have a taste of this forbidden fruit. He discarded the physical attraction and played it off as a ploy to seduce her into marrying him. This was all just business, and in his world, business always mixed with pleasure. So, while he is on this mission to claim her hand in marriage, he may as well enjoy the ride.
He boxed her in between his arms and blocked her escape path, “You are not afraid of me, are you?” he asked tilting her chin up, forcing her to look into his eyes.