Pretend I'm Yours: A Fake Marriage Romance

by Ella Miles

  I know I can’t go down that road. I promised my father on his deathbed that I would give it up. Get help. And I’ve kept my promise for eighty-nine days now. It was getting easier to give men up. I threw myself into grad school. Got into a one-month study abroad program in Italy.

  But one attempt at saving my life, and I’ve forgotten all about my sobriety.

  Maybe my grief made it easier for me. Maybe I wasn’t doing so well after all.

  I’m here for only one month. Not even that. Four weeks. Twenty-eight days. Maybe it’d be okay to sleep with him. Get the thrill of fucking a guy again out of my system so that life will be easier when I go home. I can’t obsess when I’m four thousand miles away, back in Vermont.

  I run back outside to join the group, after doing my best at drying off.

  “My cousin, Paola, will be continuing your tour of the grounds. It was a pleasure meeting you all,” Arlo says, his eyes falling on me one last time before he turns and walks toward the house. Most likely, to get out of his wet clothes.

  I turn my head to his beautiful cousin who has long brown curls for days as she leads the class outside. But I can’t listen to her. I can’t be so far away from Arlo so soon after meeting him.

  “You okay? That was quite a fall,” Eden asks.

  I nod. “I’m going to see if they have any dry clothes for me to wear.” I dart inside and turn in the direction I saw Arlo walk. I have to walk only two doors down when I find him standing inside the office he showed us earlier.

  My stomach twists in knots as my anxiety builds when I enter his office, uninvited. We can fuck right here on his desk, or maybe he’ll sneak me off to his bedroom upstairs. Or maybe he’ll whisk me off to some special room in the mansion that he didn’t show us yet.

  “You can’t be in here,” Arlo says, staring at me with dark eyes that overwhelm me. I have no idea what he is feeling or thinking when he looks at me, but I hope it’s the same need I feel when I look at him. Surely, he felt a connection to me after he saved me, even if it is just lust. But his voice is so different than it was in the pool house. Before he was sweet. Now he’s angry and cold.

  I grin and take a step forward, making sure to push my breasts out as I walk toward him. The V-neck shirt I’m wearing isn’t that revealing, even wet, but it’s enough to get him to glance down at my breasts.

  “I think this is exactly where I need to be,” I say as I twist a dark brown strand of hair, which fell out of my ponytail, around my finger.

  His eyes dart to where my finger is twisting my hair.

  I grin wider. He can tell me I shouldn’t be in here all he wants, but his interest in my body says differently.

  He grabs my wrist, and I stop moving. His touch sends a shock wave through my body, unnerving me. His grip is firm, giving me a hint of just how rough he could be in bed.

  “You. Aren’t. Allowed. In. Here,” he says slowly and sternly without raising his voice.

  I reach my other hand out to touch the stubble on his cheek. His hand grabs my other wrist. This time, more roughly.

  I’m not worried about both my wrists being trapped in his hands. Although I should be. His eyes have darkened. He looks like he’s about to kill someone. And I’m the only one in the room for him to take his anger out on.

  “You don’t know who I am,” Arlo says, still holding on to my wrists.

  “I know you’re Arlo Carini, basically royalty in this town.” I take a deep breath. “And I know that you want to fuck me.”

  He grips my wrists tighter and pulls me toward him until our bodies are pressed together. I can’t breathe. All I can think about is the pain he is inflicting on my wrists. It’s making my head spin. But I kind of like it.

  “You have no idea who I am. You, on the other hand, I know exactly who you are.”

  I smirk. I doubt it.

  “You’re Nina Young. Twenty-something grad student who is majoring in art history because you love it even though it’s going to lead to a dead-end job that pays you nothing. That means, you have family money to make up the difference or are planning on marrying a rich lawyer or doctor as soon as you return to the US. But none of that matters. What matters is that you are a spoiled, rich little girl who gets to come to Italy and will do anything to bang every hot Italian man she can find, so when you return home, you can relive the excitement and adventure instead of dealing with the reality of your pathetic life.”

  He loosens his grip just a little on my wrist, and I breathe.

  “Your life is perfect. But you’re living in a dream world.”

  I open my mouth to tell him that my life is anything but perfect, but Arlo’s eyes shut me up before I even start.

  “You don’t know me, and you don’t want to. I ruin women. I destroy them. I mean that literally. Stay away from me, Nina. No, run away. And don’t ever look back.” He says it like he means it. His eyes beg me to stay.

  He releases my wrists, but I don’t move. I can’t move. I have so many questions.

  Why don’t I want to know him? What does he mean about destroying women? How does he know my name?

  “Go,” he growls at me when I don’t move.

  I turn, startled at his growl, and begin to leave the room. Much slower than I’m sure he wants me to. But I know that I’m not going to get anywhere with him right now.

  I will. I’ll get him to fuck me. I’ll get him to obsess about me. Love me. Marry me if I want him to. He can be my last obsession. He’s perfect. He would make the best husband.

  I glance back at him when I reach the door. He’s nothing but a hot stranger to me. He was just supposed to be a man giving me and my classmates a tour of his mansion, which is full of history. Nothing more. Definitely not the object of my new obsession.

  He smiles smugly at me. He thinks he’s won. That I’ll leave him alone after he scared me. But he’s wrong. He’s just made me more obsessed than ever before.

  2

  Nina

  “Are you sick?” my roommate, Eden, asks.

  “Yes,” I answer as I stare into the tiny mirror in the bathroom.

  “A stomach bug? Migraine? Hangover? What?” Eden asks.

  “Migraine,” I answer, hoping that it will be enough to get her to stop talking.

  I love Eden. She is my best friend. I’ve known her my whole life. We do everything together. We are in the same classes. Lived in the same towns. But I regret living with her, even for a few weeks. She is nosy and isn’t afraid to tell me like it is. Even when I don’t want to hear it.

  “I’ll get you some Advil,” she says, her heels clicking on the hardwood floor as she walks away from the bathroom door.

  I exhale slowly while I glance at my watch. I have to leave in two hours if I want to get to Carini’s party at a decent time. I’ve been anxious about going ever since I overheard some townspeople talking about it last night. I haven’t started getting ready at all. I didn’t bring a fancy dress with me. I’ll have to find something in one of the local shops since I can’t ask Eden to let me borrow a dress of hers. If I do, she will grow suspicious that I’m not really sick. And it takes me hours to get my stick-straight brown hair to curl and resemble anything other than a boring mop of hair.

  Eden’s heels start clicking along the old, hard floor that gives and squeaks as she walks across it, making me cringe with each step. She knocks on the bathroom door, and the rattling of the rickety door is enough to drive me insane.

  “I couldn’t find the Advil in your purse. Is it in the medicine cabinet?” she asks.

  I open the cabinet and pick up the small container of Advil. I dump the contents into the toilet and then flush.

  “Yes, but it’s empty.” I open the door. “I’ll have to go to the store to get some more.”

  I walk past Eden, ignoring her critical stare. I know she cares about me, and that is the reason for her studied look, but she doesn’t have to make me feel so guilty all the time.

  “I can get you some Advil before I go to t
he lecture tonight,” Eden says, following me to my bedroom.

  I walk over to my closet, find my black leather jacket, and put it on. “No need. I know you want to get a front row seat since Professor Patrizio is your favorite. Take good notes for me. I’ll pick up some food and put it in the fridge for you. You can warm it up when you get back. I’m going to just take a bath, after I get some medicine and food, and then go to bed early.”

  I grab my purse and start to walk past her. Eden steps in front of me, preventing me from leaving.

  I tuck a strand of hair behind my ear while I try to stay calm even though I can practically hear the second hand of my watch ticking loudly, reminding me that each second is another one I’m missing Arlo’s attention at his party.

  “Do you need me to pick up something for you at the store while I’m there?” I ask, attempting to act casual even though I can hear the annoyance dripping off every word I say, and I know Eden doesn’t miss it either.

  “I don’t believe you.”

  I narrow my eyes. “What don’t you believe? I have a migraine. I’m going to the store and then to the bakery on the corner to get something to eat, and then I’m going to bed.”

  Eden smirks. “You really think I’m going to fall for your act? You do realize that I know you better than that.”

  “I have a migraine! And every second that I have to stay here and hear your voice or your heels clicking on the floor or your music pounding through the apartment is making the migraine a million times worse. Now, get out of my way so that I can go get more Advil,” I say, trying to push past Eden.

  She doesn’t budge though. She stands firm.

  We are almost identical in height and strength. The only real visible difference between the two of us is hair color. Hers is black while mine is brown. But both of our hair is long and straight, hitting mid back. Our eyes are both dark, and our skin is olive brown. Almost everyone who meets us assumes we are sisters.

  If I try again, it’s going to lead to a fight, which is going to make me far too late for Arlo’s party. I close my eyes and then slowly open them to try to keep from doing just that.

  “Just tell me what you want to say, so we can get whatever fight is about to happen over with,” I say.

  “I’m not going to fight with you, Nina. I love you, and I want to make sure you are okay. You’ve been doing so well these last few months, and I just don’t want one misstep to ruin everything.”

  I smile. “Don’t worry. I’m fine. Promise. I have a migraine.”

  She shakes her head. “I took some Advil yesterday. We had almost a full bottle.”

  I frown.

  “And I saw you yesterday…” Eden says.

  I narrow my eyes, trying to understand. “What do you mean?”

  “I saw you with Mr. Carini in his office. I know you, Nina. He’s hot and mysterious and rich. And you want him. He turned you down, and now, you won’t stop until you’ve fucked him every which way. You’ll stop going to classes. You’ll only think about him.”

  There is no point in lying to Eden. “So, I’m obsessed. I’ve been good for months now, and we are here for only four weeks. What damage could I really do?”

  “A lot of damage. He’s dangerous, Nina. The whole town says so.”

  “I can’t fight it, Eden. He pulls me in just like all the rest of them. Every day that I resist, the pain gets worse. My stomach is in knots, and I really do have a migraine.”

  Eden stares into my eyes with a sadness that I haven’t seen since my father’s funeral. “I know.”

  “Then, you know that I have to see him again.”

  She sighs. “I know.”

  “I have to fuck him.”

  “I know.”

  “Maybe, after I do, I’ll be able to leave him alone.”

  Eden nods even though I know she doesn’t believe me. She tightly hugs me.

  “I’ll be careful,” I promise.

  She lets me go. “And I’ll be here to pick up the pieces when you aren’t careful enough.”

  I smile, and this time, when I try to walk past Eden, she lets me.

  “You can borrow my dress. The black lace one that makes your boobs look amazing.”

  “Thank you,” I say.

  She knows me too well and is willing to help me even though she knows the trouble I’m about to get myself into. She’s been there when I’ve fallen apart and almost ruined my life. I know she’ll keep her promise to pick up the pieces that I leave in my wake. I just wish, for once, I could keep my promise and be careful.

  3

  Nina

  I could stand outside the Carini mansion all night, staring at it. For an art history major like me, it doesn’t get any better than the Carini mansion. It is full of architecture and structures that simply aren’t built like this anymore. But, as much as I would love to study every inch of the outside, study how every brick was formed and how every vine grew up the front of the building, it’s what is inside that really has me intrigued.

  I got the tour of the mansion only yesterday, two days after we arrived, but there was so much more that I wanted to ingrain in my memory forever. So much more that I wanted to know about the history behind every room, every painting, every person who’d ever lived in the Carini mansion.

  The mansion’s history alone would be enough for me to skip out on another lecture about the Italian Renaissance and come to the party here to get a chance to soak it all in. But that isn’t why I’m here.

  I’m here to get Arlo to want me.

  I see the security guard standing at the door, and I panic. I don’t have an invite. There is no reason he should let me into the party. But then I look down at one of the sexiest dresses I have ever worn. Just act like I belong, and there is no way I won’t get in. I’ve been let into parties and bars, wearing clothing that doesn’t reveal anywhere near as much cleavage as this dress.

  I walk up the long flight of stairs that lead up to the entrance. I wink at the security guard and then begin walking through the door.

  I freeze. The guard’s hand firmly holds on to my shoulder as I move through the door.

  “Let me escort you to your seat, Ms. Young,” the guard says, letting go of my shoulder and holding his arm out to me.

  My eyes widen when he says my name. I try to smile and act like I belong, but I can’t help myself. I have to know. “How do you know my name? How do I have a seat? I wasn’t invited.”

  The man continues to hold his arm out to me and now smiles calmly instead of the serious look that was on his face a moment before. “It’s my job to know who you are. And, as far as being invited or not goes, it’s irrelevant. Mr. Carini said you would come and saved you a seat at the main table.”

  I stop blinking. I stop breathing. This can’t be right. This has to be a mistake.

  “Arlo made it perfectly clear that I was not supposed to see him again. You must be mistaken,” I say.

  “Are you Nina Young?”

  I nod.

  “Do you want to attend this party tonight or not?”

  “I want to attend,” I say hesitantly.

  “Then, I’m not mistaken. Mr. Carini said you would come. He saved you a place at the table. Would you like me to escort you to your seat now?” he asks again, growing impatient.

  I stare down at the stranger’s arm and then slowly smile. I must have made an impression on Arlo if he knew I would be coming tonight and then saved me a seat.

  I finally loop my arm through the guard’s extended bent arm. “Take me to my seat.”

  He nods, and then his smile disappears as he starts guiding me through the large entryway and down a long passageway that is filled with paintings I didn’t get to see on my tour of the mansion. I try to focus on keeping my poise, thinking about what I’m going to say when I see Arlo, but the paintings draw my attention. One of the paintings is of a man dressed in clothing from decades ago who looks a lot like Arlo. The next one resembles someone who could be his grandmother. Th
ey are all family members. All share a history that is rich in culture and tradition. They all live in Italy. They all have lived inside these walls. All have kept family jobs that the rest of the town either doesn’t know about or doesn’t talk about. I could learn a lot from the paintings. Or at least, I could learn what the painter thought of the family.

  But the guard who is walking me to my seat doesn’t seem to know that he should slow down so that I can get a good look at each painting as we walk by. He is set on his mission, and his mission is to get me to my seat as fast as possible.

  We get to the end of the hallway when my escort stops abruptly.

  He glances at me. “The dinner has already started. Be prepared,” he says as he reaches for the door.

  “Be prepared for what?” I ask.

  But, before he answers me, the door swings open, and I have hundreds of eyes staring at me.

  I swallow, but I don’t have time to panic as I’m guided into the room. It is so silent, I can hear my own heart thumping in my chest despite all the people in the large dining hall. I stare around at all the men and women who are dressed in clothing that is far fancier than what I am wearing. I thought I would be in the sexiest dress here, easily demanding Arlo’s attention, but the clothes the women are wearing are far more revealing.

  What I don’t understand is why everyone is staring at me. I didn’t realize that it was a dinner party.

  But so what if it is?

  What dinner party with this many people cares if one person shows up late?

  I expect the escort to stop at any of the tables toward the back, which have a few empty seats, but that is not where I am led. We walk toward a table at the front of the room, which sits high up on a stage where everyone else can see the people sitting at the table.

  I feel my face warm as we walk. I’ve embarrassed myself plenty throughout my life. But I’ve never felt so judged by so many people at once. It seems the entire town has turned up for this party. It’s a rather small town, I’ve learned since coming here. One in which everyone knows everyone else’s business. And I’m sure that this moment will be the talk of the town tomorrow. I’m not supposed to be here, and it appears that everyone knows it.