Page 12 of The Billionaire's Pact

He chuckled. “Searching for me online, eh?”

My shoulders lifted. “It’s a joke picture of rich show-offs.”

He frowned and I chuckled.

He lifted his chin. “Showing my life isn’t showing off. My accomplishments give me a rush.”

“You chase rushes?” I asked and inwardly cringed. Did my question sound like I was flirting?

He cocked an eyebrow like he was surprised. The dazzling smile that spread on his full lips assured me it had sounded exactly like that. “I don’t all the time, but life’s short. Best to enjoy it.”

His response was a bit morose for a guy who seemed to have it all.

I glimpsed him. Still breathtaking, I mean, Christ…and I need to stop gawking. I shouldn’t be thinking about him that way anyway. I stiffened and squared my shoulders. “I’ve got to go. Goodbye, uhm, Mr. Marini.”

“It’s Rocco, Bella,” he drawled in Italian, beautiful.

I narrowed my eyes and put a hand on my hip. Is he for real? I had no idea why Rocco Marini would waste his time flirting with me. “You think if you call me beautiful, I’ll swoon?”

“I can do many things that will make you swoon, Adelina.”

I glared at him. “Don’t talk dirty to me.”

He chuckled and put his hands on his narrow waist. “That’s dirty? This isn’t the fifteen hundreds.”

It might as well be. I’m about to meet my husband and shouldn’t be talking to Rocco alone. My eyes shifted around. “Bye.” I turned away and jogged a few steps.

“Nice seeing you again, Bella-fiore.” He drew out my surname, Belfiore, which meant beautiful as a flower.

Like Lot’s wife in that story, I made the mistake of turning back. His eyes bore into mine with a lustful grip that sent my pulse racing. My body heated and tightened. Get a grip, Adelina.

Rocco winked, then jogged away from me, leaving me to suffer with a view of his toned backside. Even that was sexy. Sexy? Sex. No. Get your head on straight. He probably winks and flirts with every woman he meets. Who cares that he remembered me from so long ago? Mind you, I could understand his pity. I looked miserable that night, there was no doubt about that.

Mr. Marini had probably already told him I’ll marry soon. He used his good looks to toy with me and see his grandpa’s charity case. Rocco literally had the world at his feet and was well out of my league. Mr. Willy Ashford was my future, and I may even become a governor’s wife. And soon enough, I’d be well tucked away in Nantucket in a brand-new pastel shirt and chinos. Or so I’d seen when I did an online search for him. He wore the same combination of clothes, even at his office Christmas parties.

I mused and jogged back to the house. When I reached the top of the patio, my grandfather stood by the door, eyeing me strictly, and any joy I’d gained from my run quickly dissipated. He was skilled at causing that.

“Hurry up and change. Your husband will be here soon.”

“Don’t put on eyeliner or blush. A man likes a young lady to look innocent.” Mama gave her motherly wisdom, and I fought hard not to roll my eyes as she paced around her old bedroom. It had been so long since Mama had had any significant input in my life that I almost wanted to ask her to stop.

I brushed my brows and applied lip moisturizer before picking up my dress flats and carrying them to the door. We had already used up our time; there was none left to prepare or think—not even about running into Rocco Marini, not that I could share it with Mama. She never had a kind word to say about men nowadays, and was always suspicious they’d try to bring harm to her. She’d also remind me of my agreement with my grandparents. Not that I’m interested. Soon I’d laugh about Rocco’s “flirting” with Cassidy when my marriage prep finished, and I could get time alone to call her. Nantucket wasn’t that far away from Massachusetts. Maybe she could visit?

There was also something else to worry about. My family wouldn’t allow me to spend any time with men. I wondered if that was a mistake. Had it left me awkward as a school kid? Would my new husband find me lacking because I wasn’t sophisticated?

Mama placed a hand on my back, leading me toward the door. “Let’s go.”

We went downstairs and had almost reached Mr. Belfiore’s study when he stepped out with a middle-aged woman in a pantsuit. She came forward with a smile. “You must be Adelina. Wow, you’re stunning.” She clasped both of my hands. “I’m Brenda Esposito; I’m your marriage liaison and mediator. So happy to finally meet you. We need you to sign a few papers. Okay?”

Mr. Belfiore’s face was blank, and I glanced at Mama.

“It’s standard, Adelina,” she said.

There were already a couple of men in suits seated at a mahogany table inside the office. “Lawyers,” Mr. Belfiore mumbled as all the information we would need, or he would ever share about them.

“This is the license,” Brenda said in a sing-song voice. “You sign here and here.” She pointed at the papers. “It’s your marriage license. I’m a notary. Once Mr. Ashford signs, I can file it. However, the wedding ceremony will need to take place to finalize the marriage, but this is the legal part of the process.”

My pulse quickened as I shifted my gaze over the papers. I hadn’t expected the marriage to be so impersonal. Mama touched my back to let me know it would be okay, and I signed my name on the forms, including a non-disclosure agreement.

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