“The road to hell is paved with good intentions.”
“That’s the one. Give the man a gold star. oh, and a wife! Cha-ching!” She clamped down on the mania and struggled for composure. No reason to get wacky over a simple marriage merger. Because that was what it would be. She’d give her mother what she wanted, but in her own damn way. “Forgive me, I’m still adjusting. even though this is Italy, I didn’t know arranged marriages occurred anymore.”
“I understand.”
His voice was gentle, and she had a crazy impulse to grab his hand and beg him to make it all okay. Take her in his arms and say they’d work it out and ease the terrible tightness in her chest. But she did what came naturally. Sat quiet and stiff in her own cold bubble and did nothing. “It took me three days to realize she won. That everything I was so proud of becoming meant nothing because I’d still obey her like a child.”
“What changed your mind?”
That part was the worst. Julietta didn’t like to disappoint her mother, but there was no way she’d bend to a loveless marriage. Until she said the words that singed her ears and crippled her resolve.
“Before your papa passed on, he made me promise two things: to make sure you solidified La Dolce Famiglia as our family legacy. And for you to marry. He loved all his children equally, but you were special to him. He worried about you the most. I do not think his spirit will rest until you give this to him, sweet girl.”
A deathbed promise with her as the casualty. She tried to ignore the words, but they haunted her day and night.
The portrait in her office stared back at her, demanding her acquiescence. Until she finally realized she had no other choice. Just like Sawyer.
She spoke with no emotion. “She said Papa would want this. For me. For La Dolce Famiglia. And I’m afraid she’s right.”
Sawyer made a move, almost to comfort, but she stiff-ened and he pulled back. She couldn’t have this awful conversation with any type of warmth or she’d never recover.
“How do you want to proceed?” he asked quietly.
This she could handle. “I’d prefer to say we eloped. Like Carina and Max. As soon as our paperwork arrives, Father richard can marry us with just my mother in attendance.
I’ll tell my family it was a whirlwind affair, and we wanted little fanfare and attention. We can cite the merger and our workload to escape a honeymoon. We’ll send out a brief press release, tell our respective companies in a meeting, and hopefully the fervor and gossip will die down quickly.
Is that acceptable to you?”
Sawyer nodded.
The young couple before her rose to their feet, inter-locked arms, and walked out of the square. She watched them leave and wondered if they would always be that happy. She shook off the thought and got back to business.
“Good. Now, as for residence, I propose we get a big place immediately. I’ll rent out my apartment for now. I’d prefer Milan to be close to the office, if that’s okay, and we’ll split the cost equally. We’ll need plenty of space so we can lead our separate lives without bothering the other. I’ll put my realtor on the hunt immediately. Agreed?”
Another slight nod.
“We’ll need a prenup. Would you like to use my lawyer or yours?”
“Doesn’t matter.”
A family took the place of the couple and crowded in front of the bench. Two small boys ran around, laughing in delight as they chased pigeons, while the parents shook their heads and tried to rein them in. Julietta watched the man grin broadly, point up to the Duomo, and pull his mate in close. She leaned in with a naturalness that spoke of years together.
Julietta continued. “We’ll need to set the terms, of course. Mama never needs to know our intention to end it after a certain allotment of time. If it’s acceptable to you, I’d like to use two years as our frame. I’m afraid one year won’t satisfy my mother’s wishes, but two is a fair enough deal to say we both tried. Unless you disagree?”
He didn’t look at her. Just stared at the young family as if they were the key to unlock the answers he needed. “Two years is fine.”
“Good. I refuse to let this thing throw off our time schedule and delay opening. you have my word I’ll hire help and get this transition done as smoothly as possible.”
He lifted his head as if awakening from a fairy-tale sleep. “What about us?”
She blinked. “Us?”
“yeah, us. What’s the rules for that? Same bedroom?
Separate? Do we share work during the day and distance ourselves at home? Are we companions who share meals and conversation? Have you planned that out yet?”
Her back went ramrod straight. His gaze probed hers, as if he were looking for some type of emotion she refused to show him. What did he want from her? She snapped out her words with deliberate precision. “Why don’t we take care of all the necessary details before we subject ourselves to a heart-to-heart? once we marry, we’ll sit down and go over what each of us is comfortable with. I’m sure we can agree to a mutually beneficial compromise.”
He laughed with no humor. “Spoken like a woman in complete control of the situation. Must be nice.”
Her defenses split, ripped, and bled. “What do you want from me? An apology?” Her voice broke, but she pushed on. “I’m sorry. Sorry a debt owed to my mother will stick you with a charity case for two years. Sorry I wasn’t enough for my family, for me, for anyone. especially you.” Her eyes burned with unshed tears. “I’m doing the best I can to make this palatable for both of us.”
The shell of the civil, distant man beside her shattered.
He reached out, grabbed her upper arms and pulled her against his chest. “you offer me an apology?” he tore out, golden eyes spitting sparks of fiery rage as he shook her slightly. “Goddamn you to hell. you think I’m upset because I’m stuck with you? How dare you call yourself a charity case to the man who kissed you and stripped you and f**ked you for so many hours we both fell into exhaus-tion? you deserve a man to be whole—a man who can offer you a decent life and not tear you apart piece by piece. I’ll never be able to give you what you need. Don’t you understand I’m frozen inside? There’s nothing left to give you except physical pleasure.”
His sensual lips twisted in a sneer, and his fingers bit through the thick fabric of her coat. “But I’m not as polite or charitable as you, I guess. I don’t intend to be a mar-tyr and give you a safe little space with his-and-her bedrooms and an occasional smile as we pass in the hallway.”