Page 33 of Daddy's Little Spy

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Two hours later, she was dressed in a floor-length gown in a deep, rich shade of green. She and Amara were similar enough in size and build that they’d been able to raid her rather expansive closet for a dress.

“Benny is going to lose his mind when he sees you.” Standing behind her, Amara’s reflection grinned.

“I look like a fairy princess.” Matching Amara’s smile with one of her own, she tilted her head to the side and brushed her recently freed hands down the front of the skirt. Amara’s presence, combined with copious quantities of champagne, had mellowed her mood, though she was still a far cry from a blushing, excited bride. “I need a tiara.”

“Well, you’ve come to the right place.” With an uncharacteristic giggle, Amara grabbed her hand and all but dragged her out of the master bedroom, back out into the hall.

They didn’t get far. Stopping at the first door on the right, Amara paused, then turned with a suddenly serious expression that kicked Diana’s curiosity into overdrive. “You have to promise you won’t laugh or judge me.”

“Of course.” What the hell was behind the door?

When Amara finally pushed it open, Diana could only stop and stare. The room in front of her was decorated like a child’s room, but she recognized some of Amara’s personal tastes immediately. Three of the walls were a pale gray, but one had been painted a deep, royal purple. Dozens of stuffed animals were piled on top of a white, ruffled comforter. Along the far side of the room were rows of toys, including a larger-than-life dollhouse.

But it couldn’t have been a child’s room. There were no children in the Rinaldi house. And why would Amara have asked her not to laugh if it was a child’s room?

The memory of her first time seeing Amara in person, her cheeks bright pink with embarrassment as she whispered Daddy into the phone, pushed its way to the surface. “Is this your room?”

“Yes. Do you think I’m a total weirdo now?”

Turning, Diana cocked an eyebrow at her friend. “I cuddled a teddy bear while Benito whipped my ass, and this morning, I let him give me a bubble bath. I hardly think I’m in any position to call anyone a weirdo.”

“Fair enough.” Smiling brightly again, Amara pulled her over to a closet. But instead of the rows of sleek, sophisticated dresses the master bedroom closet housed, this one held costumes. Fairies, princesses, a pirate maybe?

And there, off to the left, was shelf after shelf of glittery, sparkling tiaras. Not the cheap, chintzy kind found at the mall, either. These were elegant, and Diana would bet her entire year’s salary those weren’t rhinestones sparkling under the lights.

Something in her shifted, and Diana couldn’t help the gasp of pure pleasure that escaped. “Oh! They’re beautiful!”

“Aren’t they? Here.” Carefully, Amara picked one up and held it out for Diana’s inspection. The metal was a pinkish color, twisted into leaves and flowers. Pearls and pale pink stones gave the entire thing a decidedly fairy-like feel. “What about this one?”

“It’s lovely.” Ducking her head, she let Amara slide the tiara into the complicated hairdo she’d worked up earlier.

Tears blurred her vision when she straightened and turned to study herself in the full-length mirror hanging over the closet door. “I look… pretty.”

“You look beautiful. You should keep the tiara. Consider it a wedding present.”

“Oh, I couldn’t. It’s too much.” Far too much, and it only made the seemingly ever-present guilt burn more strongly in her stomach.

“It’s not,” Amara said firmly. “Emilio got it for me, and I like it, but he knows pink isn’t my favorite. He would want someone who really loves it to have it.”

“You’re absolutely sure?”

“Yes.”

“All right.” Turning back to the mirror, Diana gave herself one last look over. Her body felt like it was literally vibrating with nervous anticipation, and dozens of emotions battled for supremacy inside of her. Anger, interestingly enough, had taken a backseat. Now that she’d accepted her fate and had made a plan, she was almost looking forward to the wedding. Which brought guilt and excitement to the forefront, each taking turns driving the out-of-control car that were her emotions.

But she had a job to do, and she was going to see it through to the bitter end. With a deep breath, she pushed her wayward emotions down, doing her best to shove them into a box where they couldn’t distract her.

“Let’s go get me married.”

* * *

Her calm lasted the whole five minutes it took them to walk downstairs and join the men in what Amara had referred to as the parlor. As soon as she saw Benito, looking as dangerously sexy as ever in a tuxedo — Jesus, she was marrying into a family who had tuxedos available at a moment’s notice — all of the emotions she’d shoved into that little box sprang out again, nearly knocking her on her ass.

It didn’t help that when he saw her, his eyes filled with a raw kind of hunger hinting at what would come after their vows were said. The fact that a priest was standing right next to him, smiling serenely down at her, just served to heighten her awareness of everything she was feeling.

The ceremony itself was a whirlwind. She didn’t know if the priest had been briefed on the situation, but he skipped the part where they recited their vows to each other, settling for a simple “I do” from each of them.

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