The Marriage Arrangement

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The Marriage Arrangement Page 9

by Jennifer Probst


  Relief and a sense of lightness flowed through her. "Capisce."

  "Now, let me get back to work." He nibbled on the edge of her jaw, then dragged his tongue down her body in slow, torturous increments. The heat of his breath teased each inch of skin he explored. He nipped and licked and kissed her body until liquid fire poured through her veins. Her breasts swelled and her belly tightened.

  "Please," she tore out. Her hands clenched in the tangle of sheets as he moved lower, desperate for him to stop, desperate for him to continue.

  "Please what?" he drawled. His fingers traced the line of her thigh.

  Her legs jerked and tightened. "Don't tease me anymore."

  With one swift motion, he rose up and pressed his body over hers. His erection throbbed with demand at her core. His muscled thighs pinned her legs. His hair-roughened skin slid over her sensitive flesh and her toes curled at the delicious contradiction of hard and soft, rough and smooth, heat and coolness. Midnight eyes gleamed with sensual demand. His lips tugged in a masculine smile. "You haven't given me enough yet. I want more--much more." He took her mouth again, thrusting his tongue deep.

  "Open your legs for me." He growled the words against her mouth. She shuddered as he nipped at her bottom lip, and slowly parted her thighs. His fingers gently traced the golden nest of hair, teasingly, until one finger dipped into her swollen heat. He tested her, moving in and out with slow, playful movements until she gasped for breath, rocking her hips for more. "Wider. Let me see all of you."

  She groaned out his name, finding his demand shameful and hot, and obeyed. He murmured his approval as he drank his fill, his finger playing her like an instrument. Wetness leaked down her thigh and her body wept for relief from the tightening, excruciating ache. "So beautiful. All sweet and swollen and pink. You are a fucking goddess."

  "Lee."

  "Tell me what you want."

  She closed her eyes and dug her nails into his muscled arms. "You. I want you."

  Coal-black eyes gleamed with fierce satisfaction. His mouth took hers in another soul-stirring kiss as he pushed three fingers deep into her channel, thrusting with a hard demand, relentlessly pushing her toward the edge. His thumb rubbed her clit with light, teasing touches, keeping her in a sensual agony, and then he bit her bottom lip and flicked her clit hard.

  The dirty command raked across her ear. "Come."

  His fingers curled and thrust. She screamed and writhed beneath him, the orgasm rushing through her body. His mouth never left hers, swallowing every choked cry, his fingers never stopping until the last bit of pleasure was wrung from her shaking limbs.

  With one smooth motion, he pushed her thighs up, spreading them wide. The crinkle of a wrapper rose to her ears, and suddenly his hands grasped her wrists and pinned them above her head. Blinking, her head deliciously fuzzy from her orgasm, Caterina looked into his seething eyes and sensed that once he took her body, nothing would ever be the same. Jaw clenched, his erection poised at her dripping entrance, he paused for endless moments.

  "You belong to me."

  With one swift thrust, he entered her body, burying himself deep inside her tight channel.

  Claimed.

  The sheer power and size of him stretched and burned inside her. His hard, muscled chest crushed the swell of her breasts. His fingers interlaced with hers as she gripped tight, struggling to accept the masculine invasion without giving him everything she had.

  But he wouldn't let her. As if he knew her thoughts, he withdrew from her clinging warmth with slow movements, then drove inside once again, keeping the teasing, tantalizing pace at a steady rhythm. Her head arched back into the pillow as her body demanded more.

  "That's right, all of it. Don't hold back."

  The tempo increased to a frenzy, until a scream hovered on her lips. Skin damp with sweat, his gaze never left hers, commanding her to surrender.

  Her body shuddered and she let go. Waves of pleasure washed over her and she gave up completely.

  She heard his hoarse shout as he followed her over the edge, and then he collapsed, tucking her in and holding her tight. His hands gently stroked back her hair, cradling her against him with a cherished tenderness that made her soul sigh and relax completely. As she drifted off to sleep, one thought danced in her mind.

  This was a man she could love.

  "Good morning."

  Cat blinked drowsily and stretched. Her hair lay out on the pillow like a glorious, tangled halo, and her skin was flushed a dark pink from sleep. A crease from the pillow left an imprint on her right cheek. The scent of sex and musk hung heavily in the air.

  A strange joy flooded him, and Rip couldn't help but lean over and kiss her, her lips soft and full and sweet under his. In one night, this woman had changed him. He'd never been with someone who opened her heart with welcome, the same way she gave him her body with a purity that humbled him. This wasn't just about sex. It was about all those other emotions sliding and sinking together inside him that made him feel terribly vulnerable and hopeful at the same time.

  After only a brief time, he knew the truth.

  He was falling in love with her.

  "Is it time to get up?" she murmured sleepily, her fingers running down his stubbly cheek.

  "Not yet. I'm going out to grab some cappuccino and pastries. I just wanted to let you know where I was going."

  A smile curved her lips. "So I don't wake up and assume this was a one-night stand?"

  "You know this is more, right?"

  The smile slipped away. She pressed a thumb to his lips. "It is for me. I'm glad you feel the same."

  Guilt churned. He fought it back and squeezed her hand, then pressed a kiss to her palm. "Good. We'll talk when I get back. I have some things to tell you."

  "Your mysterious job?"

  "Yes, and other things. But first I need caffeine."

  "Sounds like a plan. Think I'll stay right here and wait for you to get back." Her mischievous wink got him hard and ready, but he managed to step back with a tortured groan, enjoying her bubbly laughter. He headed out of her apartment, stopping briefly to look at the arrangement of roses on the table.

  He'd sent the arrangement last week. Only four remained, carefully pruned by her loving hand. Strange that she'd never mentioned them...or the mysterious message that had accompanied their delivery.

  Foreboding ruffled his nerves. He shouldn't have sent the roses. Hadn't realized the game would end up real for both of them. How would he convince her of that once she learned the truth?

  Rip walked to the cafe. Edward had called him this week, asking for an update. Rip refused to explain any details, assuring the man he'd be returning with Caterina soon. Once there, he'd convince Edward that Caterina was much more to him than a way to gain the prize of the winery.

  She had become the prize.

  But first he had to explain everything to her this morning.

  As he stepped into line, Rip practiced the words he would soon say out loud and prayed they were the right ones. Prayed that Caterina would believe he'd fallen in love with her because of the wonderful woman she was and not as a means to an end. Prayed that they could be happy together.

  Rip repeated the words like a mantra.

  Chapter Eight

  God, she was so damn happy.

  Caterina got up from bed to brush her teeth and comb the tangles from her hair. Her body felt achy and well used. Her face held a touch of beard burn. Her lips were swollen.

  She looked like a woman who had been treasured and fucked like a queen.

  Laughing with joy, she headed back to her bed, propping up some pillows against the headboard and lying back. Eyes closed, she pictured every image of last night in slow motion. They'd connected and bonded completely, on a deeper level than just physical. She was ready to take the next step if he asked her.

  She was ready to go back to New York. With him.

  Her bliss was interrupted by her phone. Seeing her father's number, she accepted
the call. "Hi, Papa! I can't believe it, I was just thinking about you and coming home."

  "I've missed you, sweetheart." His booming voice over the line brought comfort and an ache. "I wanted to see how you were."

  "Actually, I'm wonderful."

  A pause. "Really?"

  She laughed at the doubt in his tone. "Yes, I'm happy. I met someone, and if things go well, I may be coming home."

  He sucked in his breath. "I cannot believe it. Do you have true feelings for Rip? He wouldn't tell me anything and I worried about you. Worried I'd pushed too hard and demanded something you couldn't give. I sensed you two would be good for one another, but this is a true gift!"

  A strange roaring filled her ears. She gripped the phone and sat up in bed. "Rip? No, his name is Lee."

  "Lee? What do you mean? Dark hair, tall, dark eyes. You're talking about Ripley Savage, correct? The man you fell for? He's my partner at Winsor. He traveled to Italy to bring you back home so you can take your rightful place at the winery."

  The room spun, and suddenly, her world flipped. Her lungs constricted and she gulped for a breath. "Papa, I want you to tell me everything. Right now."

  He did. As he spoke and the horror unfolded, she realized she'd been a pawn in a very complicated, high stakes game. The prize was Winsor Winery. The sacrifice was her.

  Again.

  Rip Savage had managed to trick her, ripping apart her already tattered heart in the process.

  Her voice tore from her throat. "I can't believe this. Not again. I have to go, Papa. I'll call you later." Caterina closed her eyes and fought for control. Rage and hurt swirled through her body, begging for release. It all seemed so clear now. The roses with the strange message. Coincidentally meeting him at Bar Brera. Dear God, she'd walked right into the trap without pause. She'd actually introduced herself to him! And he'd played his part well, allowing her to believe what they had was real, all the way up until last night. Had he been planning to propose this morning? Had he figured to sweep her up into the romance of an elopement, then spring the truth on her when it was too late?

  A moan escaped her lips and she shook her head. So stupid. She'd been so stupid to think a man could fall for her so quickly. He must've been laughing at her the whole time. Maybe he was laughing right now, congratulating himself for his seduction skills.

  She jumped out of bed, frantic to get dressed and put a barrier between them. Flinging on jeans and a T-shirt in a panic, she heard the door bang and footsteps clatter. His voice drifted through the door. "I hope you didn't move, because I'm planning a picnic in bed. I figured--Caterina? What's wrong?"

  She froze, then slowly turned to face him.

  When her gaze met his, he sucked in a breath. The truth pulsed between them amidst the tangle of lies, and she watched as a curious pain ravaged his features. For one brief moment, his dark eyes held a raw grief and regret that slammed her in the chest, but then she reminded herself it was all fake, and hardened her heart once again.

  The white-hot anger turned to numbness. Grateful for the relief, she tilted her head and regarded him in silence. He whispered her name, taking a step forward.

  "My father called. I know everything. It's over and I want you to get out." The words dropped like a hard stone between them. She lifted her chin. "Now."

  Rip stared back, his face rigid. Growling under his breath, he closed the distance between them in three long strides. "It's too late." He leaned in. His warm breath struck her lips with each deliberate word. "Caterina, don't do this. You're everything I want in a wife. We belong together."

  She tried to move but found herself frozen in place. She steeled herself against the sheer menace of masculine power and held her ground. "Not anymore," she flung out. "Not ever!"

  He fisted his hands at his hips, his posture rigid. "What did he tell you?"

  "Everything!" she shouted. "The truth! You came to Italy with one mission: marry me. I can only imagine how pleased you were I fell right into your trap. You pretended to be a man I could care about. How far were you willing to go, Rip? Or is it Lee? Quite a clever ruse. Were you going to propose this morning?"

  He swore viciously under his breath. "I know you're furious right now, and I understand why. But if you hear me out, you'll see nothing's changed between us."

  Her eyes widened. "You can't believe that," she said. "I would never marry you."

  "What happened between us has nothing to do with the winery, or your father. Yes, I came here with a plan because I had no choice. Don't you understand I was desperate? I was promised a stake in your father's company and worked my ass off to get it. Then I find out there's a catch. In order to get what I deserve, I have to marry Edward's high society daughter, who ran out on him and his business. The daughter who cared nothing for her father's financial trouble." His laugh held a touch of bitterness.

  "Wait a minute. Winsor Winery is in financial trouble?"

  He spoke in a calm, controlled voice. "Caterina, the winery was on the verge of bankruptcy when I stepped in. Your father was all alone and sinking fast. We worked night and day to turn it around, and the whole time he spoke of how you were traveling through Europe without a care in the world. Imagine the impression I had of you. A selfish, spoiled princess."

  Nausea rolled in her gut. She shook her head hard, trying to deny it. "No, he would've told me. Papa said we had plenty of money to finance a trip and that I didn't need to work."

  "He lied. He knew how fragile you were and that you needed the time away."

  "I can't believe this," she whispered. Everything she'd believed true had been a lie. She fought the urge to crawl under the covers and cry. To hide from the world and cocoon herself from the pain. To hide and run to safety.

  But she was done running. The past year had shown she was stronger than she believed, and one heartbreak would not ruin her. Drawing on her strength, she squared her shoulders and faced him head on. "I see. And you wanted your stake in the winery enough to marry a self-centered brat you would never respect?"

  Direct hit. He winced and took a step back. "You don't understand how important Winsor Winery is to me. I've been working toward owning something my whole life. I figured if I could get you to fall for me, I could tempt you to come home with the promise of an easy life."

  "You bastard," she whispered. "You judged me before we even met. And I fell for your stupid plan. Have you been mocking me this entire time? Was this seduction planned out in detail?" Furiously, she fought back tears, shattered at the idea of him being amused at the open vulnerability she'd exposed.

  He walked toward her but she jerked away, throwing her hands out. "No, I hadn't even decided how to approach you when you came up to me in the cafe. You felt our connection. I felt it too, drawing us together before I was even ready. The moment we met, I fell hard. You were nothing like I expected, but I was still so angry with your father and the situation, I kept thinking you'd show your true colors. Instead, every day you surprised me. I came to you last night just as a man. I craved you, needed you more than my next breath, and I could never regret making love to you. It meant everything."

  "It was a lie," she said.

  "The only lie was my true name. Everything else was real." His eyes blazed with emotion. "My body, and my heart, was yours last night, and still is yours. If you'd just--"

  "Don't." She whirled around, refusing to look at him anymore. "And the roses? That was you, too?"

  "Yes."

  "Good move. Women are suckers for a bit of mystery."

  "I'm sorry, Caterina. I can't change how we began, but I'll be damn sure to fix how we go on. We can be happy together, I know it. You can plan the wedding, here in Italy or back in New York. Anything you want." When she didn't respond, he added, "Accept the inevitable. We will be married."

  "Never," she whispered. "The man I gave myself to last night was good and kind. He made me feel safe. He needed me." She stared out the window, her voice bleak and emotionless. "You're not that man at all. You'r
e ruthless and cold. You believe in sacrificing anyone who gets in the way of your goals. And I could never love a man like you."

  A hushed silence fell over the room. She refused to look at him, knowing if there was any pain in his eyes she was stupid enough to want to soothe him, even after she knew the truth.

  "I'm still the man you fell in love with," he said quietly. "Still fighting for the life I want, for the woman I want."

  "I don't believe you anymore," she said. "You lied and made a mockery out of my feelings. It's over." She motioned toward the door.

  "Think, Caterina," he said, refusing to leave. "Your father is tired. He can't run the winery any longer and needs to retire. His health hasn't been good--another thing he's been keeping from you. I know the business. I can run it and make it even more successful, and if you'll marry me, I can keep it in your family for generations to come."

  Guilt assailed her. The thought of her father sick, stressed, and alone while she happily lived like a society princess tore at her. Oh God, had Rip been right? Had she been so focused on herself that she didn't want to see the issues, happy to be blinded by her own selfishness? It had been easy to lean on her father and believe him when he urged her to take some time away from the winery.

  Too easy, perhaps.

  "Fine, I will return home. But I'll get my father to teach me everything I need to know." She threw her head back with challenge, glaring. "We don't need you."

  "Your father will never trust you to run the winery alone. And he'd never retire if he knows you're struggling."

  "I'll hire people," she said desperately. "I can do this without you."

  "But you don't have to." His velvet voice stroked her ears. "When I took you to bed last night, it wasn't about playing games or trying to secure the winery. It was about you and me. I meant every word I whispered, when my body claimed yours. I swear I can make you happy, if you give this a chance. Please give me a chance."

  She stumbled back, desperately needing the space. Even now, her traitorous body leapt and responded to his emotional plea. The images flickered before her, memories of caressing hands drifting over her skin, of low murmurs whispered from carved lips, of hard muscles covering her body and bringing her to heights she'd never experienced.

 

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