“I’m not your wife,” she snapped.
“Not yet, but in a few hours.”
She sighed heavily and a little glimmer of regret played in my chest, but I decidedly pushed it away. Regret had no room here.
“This is lunacy,” she complained, but she dragged herself out of the bed. My eyes traveled down her body, wearing only hot pink boyshort panties and a white slim tank top. Her skin was smooth, much paler than mine and despite her petite frame, she had soft curves. My cock stirred to life, ready to pounce on her and claim her. She had been constantly on my mind along with those little moans she made as I ate her pussy in the middle of the damn restaurant. I hadn’t been able to get rid of my hard-on.
Voices carried over through the closed windows, and I watched Bianca’s slim body rush to see what was going on.
“What the fuck is going on here?” she exclaimed and whipped around, glaring at me. “Why are there a boatload of people in my yard?”
Her dark eyes flashed with anger again, and her cheeks flushed. Damn it, I wanted to fuck her here, right now.
“We are getting married here,” I told her. I was buying time, counting on Benito to assume the wedding would take place on my property, and it was happening next week.
“Something is seriously wrong with you,” she snapped in an exasperated tone. “I don’t want to get married today.”
I strode towards her, towering over her. Despite her petite body, she somehow seemed taller when she was pissed off. She stood her ground, her hands on her hips, our bodies flushed together.
Both of my hands reached out, my fingers digging into her soft hips. I knew they’d leave a mark, and I didn’t give a shit. Let everyone know she was mine.
I lowered my head, our lips only inches apart.
“This is not a negotiation, Cara Mia,” I purred with an undertone of threat. “In two hours, you’ll be Mrs. Morrelli.” She stood there, her eyes wide with a mix of fear and stubbornness in those dark depths. She’d be the death of me. “Start. Getting. Ready. Now.”
I watched her throat bob as she swallowed; fear flashed in her eyes, but she refused to cower.
“Fuck. You. Nico. This wasn’t the agreement.” She huffed a frustrated breath. “You can’t change agreements on the fly.”
“Bianca, get in the shower.” She rolled her eyes at me. I had to fight the urge to bend her over and smack her ass. “Now!”
We stared at each other, both of us refusing to back down. This would be fun when I take her to bed, but right now, I just wanted her to get a move on.
“Nico, it is too soon,” she reversed back to a begging technique. “Besides, shouldn’t we get a prenup? It’s only smart, you know. Otherwise, when we divorce, I could get half of everything.” Damn it, this woman tested my patience. Then her eyes flashed and she continued in a hopeful tone. “I mean, I don’t even have a white dress. I wore my only white dress yesterday.”
I smirked. I’d marry her naked if I could ensure nobody else saw what was mine. “Not to worry, Cara Mia. I took care of the dress.” And I certainly wasn’t worried about the prenup. She’d be mine forever.
Hope extinguished in her eyes and her frustration came back.
“When did you decide that the wedding is today?” she hissed.
“Yesterday,” I deadpanned.
“And you didn’t think that maybe you should tell me too?”
“No.”
“And if I don’t want to do it?” She tilted her chin up showing her stubbornness.
“You are doing it,” I told her. “Just think of your kids.”
A sharp gasp left her full lips.
“You- you’d threaten them?” she asked, her eyes wide and full of terror. I would never hurt them, but apparently Bianca thought the worst of me. “You played hopscotch with them!”
I frowned at her reasoning. From all the things for her to say, that one made the least amount of sense. Bianca was a puzzle. Yes, I was using her in my revenge, but I’d never hurt her girls nor her. There were worse things in this life than marrying me. At least I hoped so.
The attraction was there. I’d be a faithful husband, and I’d protect her and our children. What more was there?