Page 213 of Modern Romance Collection February 2025, 5-8

Mari admired her directness—forget congratulations and happy wishes, why not cut to the chase?

‘Dom and I were married this last week.’

‘But in Las Vegas, I understand.’

She made a wedding in Las Vegas sound like something undesirable she had stuck to the sole of her Louboutin sandal.

‘That’s right. At the Bellagio Hotel. Have you been there?’

The woman’s nose wrinkled. Her brow, Mari noticed, didn’t. ‘But Las Vegas. Isn’t it a bit…tacky?’

‘Clearly, you’ve never been to the Bellagio. But of course, when time is of the essence, you don’t care where you make something happen. Just that you make it happen.’

Mari’s answer clearly displeased the woman, not that she was about to give up any time soon.

‘And yet a whirlwind romance, a whirlwind marriage—one might think that this was all an exercise intime is of the essence. I’ve known Dominico for more than ten years. Why would he choose to marry someone nobody knows, unless it’s all make-believe?’

Ouch!How could the woman possibly entertain such an idea?

‘A whirlwind romance, Isabela? Didn’t Dom tell you that we first met twenty years ago? We were at university in Sydney together.’

The woman blinked. Clearly this was news to her. ‘So, you knew each other back then?’

Mari smiled. ‘Oh, yes. But back then we didn’t merely know each other. We were lovers. As, of course, we are again now.’

The woman’s eyes opened wide. She took a step back to regain her composure. ‘In that case, congratulations. I was beginning to think that it would never happen, that Dominico would never marry.’ She made a sound that could almost have been a laugh, if it hadn’t sounded so false. ‘There have been so many women that have tried and failed. I wonder what your secret is.’

Ten million dollars, Mari thought, along with a promise to agree to divorce as soon as his mother succumbed to her illness and Dom didn’t need a fake wife any longer.

Mari smiled knowingly. ‘I guess you’d have to ask Dom that.’

It was an hour later that Dom found her and pulled her aside. ‘Did you tell Isabela that we were lovers twenty years ago?’

‘I did. Why? I figured you wouldn’t want me telling her that you’d paid me ten million dollars for the privilege. I told her the truth after all, though maybe not the whole truth. How did you know?’

He grinned. ‘Because word is getting around. Before the night is out, everyone here will know we were once lovers.’

‘Is that a problem?’

‘No, it’s good. Better than good.’ He swept her close with an arm around her waist, swirled her around and placed a kiss on the tip of her nose. ‘It’s actually perfect.’

She laughed, clinging onto his shoulders. This was the Dom she’d known at university. Playful and spontaneous. The arrogant businessman mantle banished. ‘What was that for?’

But the laughter died on her lips, her breath hitched when she saw the way Dom was looking down at her, his dark eyes intense, the same way he’d once looked at her. The way that had awakened her senses and her desire.

‘Dom,’ she whispered, sensing that something had changed. That everything had changed. The sounds of the party evaporated around her, the room shrank until there was just them, his dark eyes above hers and his arms around her, a buzzing in every cell and a humming ache between her thighs.

He was going to kiss her, she knew. He was going to kiss her.

And this time she sensed it wasn’t a performance.

His lips drew closer, deliciously closer. So close. And then they were on hers. Blissfully on hers. Tender. Firm. For a moment she was lost in sensation. The feel of him in her arms, the taste of him in her mouth. It was intoxicating.

She was intoxicated. Carried away on her body’s reaction to the man she’d always loved. The man she’d loved and who she’d believed had loved her.

The man she loved anew.

Oh, hell.

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