Jennifer Probst - The Marriage Trap

Mia amore.

My love.

Michael swallowed past the sudden tightness of his throat and held her close.

* * *

“We have to get dressed.”

“Hm.” Michael ran a hand over her gorgeous curves, enjoying the feel of sleek muscles and silky skin. “In a minute.”

“Your mom should be home with Carina. Venezia wants to go over bridesmaid accessories tonight. And I have to help cook dinner again, damn it.”

His body shook with contained laughter, and she gave him a weak punch. “Sorry, cara, this whole week was not what either of us expected.”

Her voice was whisper soft. “No. It wasn’t.” A pause. “Michael, what happened with your sisters?”

He turned over to face her, then smoothed cinnamon strands back from her face. “You were right. About everything.” Regret loomed but he pushed past, knowing he could only make it right for the future. “I got lost in my role and made a lot of mistakes. After you left, I spoke with my sisters and apologized. I also showed them your photo of Mama and they loved it. We’re launching a new campaign based on your photograph.”

Her brow shot up. “Are you kidding? That’s wonderful.”

Michael smiled, tracing the lush outline of her mouth. He cursed her parents, who didn’t see the treasure she was and caused her to doubt her ability to love. He realized he’d reached a turning point and needed to force them both to face the truth. Their marriage ruse had veered into something more, and he believed it was too precious to throw away.

Michael grasped her chin and gently forced her to face him. “Listen to me, Maggie. This is important. In a few days, you saw things I’d never even realized. How I treated my sisters and what they really needed from me. You made four little boys feel loved and taken care of, even though it was the first time they ever met you. You respected my mother and made food in her kitchen, which is the most important thing you can ever give her. You gave my little sister a reason to believe in herself again, and believe she is beautiful. You are an amazing woman, Maggie Ryan.” He gazed deep into her eyes and told the truth. “Stay with me.”

His heart pounded as he waited. She closed her eyes, as if searching for her own answers, then opened her mouth to respond.

“Michael! Are you in there? Come quick; Mama’s sick!”

The words she was about to utter died a quick death, and Michael wondered if he’d always regret that moment of interruption. They jumped out of bed, pulled clothes on, and made their way downstairs. Carina stood outside his mother’s door. “Where is she?” he asked calmly, trying to mask his worry.

She pressed a hand to her lips and choked out the words. “Dr. Restevo is with her. We went into town and everything was fine, and then she said she felt weak and dizzy. I told her to rest because the sun was hot today, but she insisted I get the doctor.” Tears sprung to her eyes. “Maybe I should have taken her to the hospital? I didn’t know what to do, Michael.”

“Shush, you did everything right.” He gathered her in his arms for a quick hug. “Let’s wait for a few minutes and see what the doctor says. Perhaps it is nothing. Va bene?”

Carina nodded. When he released her, he noticed Maggie took her hand as if it was the most natural gesture in the world. Low murmurings drifted through the closed door, and he tamped down his urge to pace. Finally, Dr. Restevo strolled through.

“Buon giorno, Doctor. How is Mama?” Michael asked.

An odd expression crossed the older man’s face. Dressed casually in khakis, a white T-shirt, and sneakers, Michael guessed he’d been caught off guard by Carina’s call. His black bag fit the standard cliché as his family still believed in home care and door-to-door visits. He peered over his spectacles, his brown eyes concerned.

“Um, a hospital is not necessary at the moment.”

Michael waited for more, but the doctor remained silent, shifting from foot to foot. He averted his gaze. Michael curbed his impatience but Carina burst out in front of them. “What’s wrong with her? Did she have a heart attack? Why aren’t you telling us something—is it very bad?”

The doctor ran a hand past his receding hairline and coughed. “No heart attack. She needs to rest; that’s it.”

“Was it the heat? Her medication? Anything we need to do?” Michael asked.

Dr. Restevo shook his head and edged past him. “Keep her in bed today. Plenty of liquids. This happens sometimes, no need to worry.” The older man paused and suddenly clasped Michael’s shoulder in a death grip. “Remember one thing, Michael. No stress. Whatever your mother asks for, just give it to her. Capisce?”

“But—”

The doctor dropped his hand, gave Carina a quick kiss on the cheek, and studied Maggie. Eyes narrowed, he drank in her figure, as if studying for a quiz, then patted her cheek. “Congratulations on your marriage, signora bella. Welcome to the family.” Then with a little smile, he hurried out the door and left them.

“Oh, thank goodness. It was probably just the long walk and the heat,” Carina said. “I’ll go get her some water and juice.” His sister left and his knees weakened with a rush of relief. Without a word, Maggie stepped into his arms and held him close.

A deep sense of peace settled within his soul. He breathed in the sweet smell of her strawberry shampoo and allowed himself the luxury of leaning on another person. He was so used to shouldering the burden on his own, the sheer pleasure of having someone comfort him shook him to the core. Was this how it would be if Maggie was in his life permanently? She was strong enough to hold up her own end, and he’d never have to worry about keeping things from her. She’d be a true partner in every sense of the word. Michael held her until his breathing returned to normal, then gently released her.

His voice sounded ragged. “Thank you.”

She quirked a brow. “For what, Count? Not being a pain in your ass for a minute or two?”

Her cheekiness made him laugh. He reached out and rubbed a thumb over that luscious lower lip. “For being there.” She retreated behind her wall of defense, but now he knew the move well and developed the proper block. This time, he decided to give her space. “I’m going to check on her. Be right back.”

He walked into the bedroom and sat beside the bed. The familiar scent and sight of his mother’s room wrapped around him, reminding him of his youth. The same king-size bed with the heavily carved cherrywood headboard. The cheerful yellow on the walls and the spill of vivid green plants and bright red geraniums in her window box. The room led to a private balcony, and he remembered many nights cuddling on his mother’s lap while she rocked in her chair and counted the stars. Now, the powerhouse of a woman lay against the plump pillows with her eyes half-closed.

He took her hand and brought it to his lips. “Mama. How do you feel?”

She gave a small smile. “Silly weak heart. Quite annoying. Your papa and I used to hike in our spare time and climb mountains. Don’t get old.”

He smiled back at her usual phrase. “Carina’s bringing you liquids and I want you to stay in bed. No baking. No stress. Doctor’s orders.”

She let out a humph. “Baking relaxes me. But I will stay in bed, Michael.” Her eyes sparkled with a bit of humor. “At least today.”

“Mama—”

A quick knock on the door made him turn. Carina stood behind a tall man dressed in the standard black with a stiff white collar and a cross around his neck. His face was heavily wrinkled, but his vivid blue eyes held a glint that lit up the room. A leather Bible was clutched in his hand as he moved forward and held his arms out.

“Father Richard!” Michael rose and hugged the man.

The priest had given his family religious education lessons for many years and was grief stricken when Michael decided not to be a priest. He had an idea Father Richard dreamed of leaving him his legacy, but with the first discovery of the naked female form, Michael was a goner.

“What are you doing here?” Michael stiffened in sudden alarm. “Wait—Dios, you’re not here thinking she needs last rites, are you?”

Father Richard’s booming laugh rang out through the room. He pressed a kiss to his mother’s forehead. “Of course not, Michael. Your mama will outlive all of us if my instincts are right. Didn’t she tell you?”

Michael glanced back and forth between his mother and the priest. “No, I’m sorry, Father. Is this about Venezia’s wedding? She’s not here at the moment but should be home later this afternoon.”

“Wait! Let me get Maggie; she needs to hear this.” Carina dragged Maggie into the room and made the introductions.

Maggie furrowed her brow in confusion as she murmured a greeting to the priest.

Carina jumped up and down in bubbling excitement. “Mama, can I tell them? Please?”

His mother nodded.

“Mama and I went into town to get Father Richard. We have a big surprise for you.”

A sense of doom beat through Michael, as if he were watching a horror movie and the deafening music was swarming to a crescendo during the final murder. “What surprise?”

Carina paused for dramatic effect. “Father Richard can marry you in Italy! Right now! Venezia and Julietta will be here any moment. Michael, we got approval for you to marry Maggie. We’re having a wedding!”

The words slammed into his brain like a mean left hook. Maggie stood in perfect stillness, those cat-green eyes wide with a mixture of horror and shock.

Porca vacca. He was screwed.

Maggie stared at the priest like he’d arrived to perform an exorcism. The room fell quiet, and Carina seemed anxious over their complete nonexcitement. In fact, at another time and place in her life, this may be hilarious. Almost like one of the comic sitcoms she loved where stupid situations happened in the comfort of her living room.

No way. She was not going to marry Michael Conte.

A crazed laugh bubbled from her lips. Enough was enough. She waited for Michael to explain the truth. He’d never go through with it. Hell, she was his own worst nightmare come to life, even though they had great sex and he’d said some sweet things. In the cold light of morning, he’d lose interest and move on for his search for a proper wife. One who was better suited to him and his family. Someone like Alexa.

Carina finally spoke. “Um, guys? Aren’t you excited? We’re going to have a wedding.”

Since her fake husband seemed dumbstruck—with the emphasis on dumb—she decided to be the rational one. Maggie took a deep breath. “Listen, everyone. We have something important to tell you. You see, Michael and I—”

“Wait!” Michael’s roar choked off her words. Her eyes practically bugged out of her skull as he calmly walked over, took her hand, and faced his family. “What Maggie means to say is, we never expected to have the ceremony take place so soon. Maggie had her heart set on inviting our cousins and uncles to the celebration.” His laugh came out hollow and fake. “How did the approval go so fast? I mean, Father Richard, I figured you’d want Maggie and me to go through some classes first before blessing our union.”

Father Richard, in his godlike presence, sensed no evil lies in the vicinity and smiled warmly. “Well, of course, that is the standard, Michael. You know the church takes a while to approve a marriage, but you have been under my care since you were young. As soon as your mother knew you were flying back home, she contacted me and we pushed the paperwork through. You are a count, and royalty does have some assets.”

Mama Conte struggled to sit up. She sipped at the water and handed the glass back to Father Richard. When she spoke, her voice was threaded with weakness. Odd, because even when she was tired, his mother snapped out her words with a strength in complete contradiction to the frail vision before him. God, maybe she was really, really sick. “I understand, my son. And I do not wish to take away your wishes, but I’m afraid I will not be up for a big party. I feel so weak. The doctor will be back tomorrow, and he said if I am still this way, he may choose to take me to the hospital for tests.”

Her brown eyes held a glint of determination. “I ask you two to do this for me. Recite your vows on the back terrace so I can be certain your union is complete.”

Carina seemed relieved at their concerns and went back to nonstop chatter. “See, there’s nothing to worry about. I know we’d rather do a big party, but if you’re flying back next week, Mama decided it’s more important to have the religious ceremony immediately.” She clapped her hands together. “Maggie, I got a dress for you! I hope you like it; I snuck in your closet and got your size, and I have it in my room. Let’s get you dressed! The girls should be here any moment. Michael, you should wear that gorgeous tux you left here from the last time. La Dolce Famiglia delivered a chocolate cannoli cream cake, and I have a few bottles of champagne chilling. This is going to be so much fun!”