Blame it on the Champagne (Blame it on the Alcohol #1) - Fiona Cole Page 0,43
continue with your life as normal—just with me as your husband.”
“I—I’m not sleeping with you. You can’t legally put that in a contract.” Could he?
Would he be Camden and think he had a right to me however and whenever he wanted?
Nicholas smirked, the look shooting straight to my core, making a liar out of me. “Again, I need to remind you. You seemed to have enjoyed it the last time. Why not do it again? And again.”
“I didn’t know it was you.”
Why wasn’t my voice working like I wanted it to? Why was it so breathless?
“Well, have no fear. I won’t force you.”
He stood. His broad shoulders and hard body towered over me as he walked close, the words a façade for a lion amusing itself with its prey.
By the time he reached my side, my chest worked overtime, heaving from my panting breaths. One arm rested on the table and the other on the back of my chair. He caged me in, leaning into my personal space. Everything stopped when he dragged his nose along my cheekbone to my ear.
“Tell me, Vera. Will you kiss me on our wedding day? Or only offer your cheek?”
I opened my mouth, not knowing what would come out, when he pressed a quick kiss to my cheek and stood back, grabbing the dishes with him.
I glared at his retreating back, hating how much he affected me. His stupid smile left no doubt that he knew it too. I grabbed the other dishes and brought them to the island, sliding them across to the sink, barely managing to set them down softly and not shatter them at his feet.
“I want an actual wedding,” he said without looking up from washing dishes.
“Why?”
He paused for only a moment before easily answering, “Appearances.”
That made sense. Especially if he hoped marrying a Mariano would garner him more recognition—a big event would only add to that.
“Seeing as we’re going against some opposition, we should hurry the process along. I’m thinking in a month or so. I’ll contact someone and make it all happen per our timeline. Money isn’t an issue.”
I fell back against one of the stools at the island. He talked about it all so easily like it was a done deal. He didn’t appear to be struggling with any of this, while my body twisted with indecision and heat.
He spoke as if planning a New York wedding in a month was as simple as grabbing a bite to eat.
For the first time, I really considered Nicholas’s wealth. Between his apartment and being able to pay whatever it took, maybe his company was more successful than I’d originally thought. Maybe it was more than a company on the brink of success. Looking back at the view of Central Park, I’d say a lot more.
“So? Are you in?”
He rested his hands on the counter, bunching his strong shoulders under his shirt, the opening shifting to give me a better view of his chest.
“I never thought my fairy tale wedding would be discussed over a contract and granite.”
“It’s marble.”
“Of course, it is,” I muttered.
“If you wait for a fairy tale, you’ll never be happy. I may not be the prince charming you imagined, but I am here offering you what you need.”
My eyes shot from where they ogled his chest to meet his, the setting sun bringing out the hints of green.
“What did you just say?” I asked, barely over a whisper.
Blood rushed through my ears, blending with the memory of my mom’s favorite thing to say when I watched all the Disney princesses.
If you wait for a fairy tale, mia bambina, then you’ll never find happiness. Sometimes Prince Charming is everything you need when you didn’t know you needed it.”
“I’m just saying that it may not be perfect, but you can make it what you need. At the very least, a stepping stone,” he said, shrugging. “So, what will it be, Verana? Will you marry me?”
I didn’t believe in signs, but if I ever did, this had to be it.
I grabbed the contract and slapped it on the counter between us, crossing off the part about consummating the marriage. “Yes. I’m in.”
He merely smiled at my act of defiance as if he didn’t need a contract to make it happen.
“Good. We’ll have an engagement party next weekend.”
“What?” I gasped.
“Does that not work for you? If you have other obligations, we can reschedule. I just have to redraft the contract with your…corrections, then we’ll be good to go.”