Page 25 of Good Girl Gone Bad

Chapter Eight

Lily slipped into the deep fuchsia cocktail dress. Because of the decadent color, the outfit didn’t have any embellishments other than the soft, high-quality fabric. In fact, it was even conservative, with knee-length hem and a modest cut above her chest. She preferred it that way.

She applied makeup, choosing some dark shadow to enhance her eyes and a nude-colored lipstick. Her hair was up in a topknot. Where the hell was Marco? After they’d checked into their room, he did some business stuff while she surfed online. He’d been occupied with work, and she unpacked for the six days they were to stay, busying herself for most of the afternoon. An hour ago, he’d told her he needed to talk to his grandmother quickly, to tell her the news of the engagement himself.

Lily imagined he wanted privacy to catch up with his grandma before introducing her, and she respected that. She skimmed their enormous room, figuring not even honeymooners ever got such nice accommodations. The immense bed was raised, pinned by four posters, and adorned with sheer drapes that floated in the light breeze. They hadn’t had time to make love, but she yearned for him to take her in that giant bed. Take her in the dirtiest way… Images of him thrusting into her ass populated her mind, and little thrills of anticipation tingled her insides, hardening her breasts.

She cleared her throat, yanking herself from a fantasy she was sure he’d turn into reality.

From the minute they’d arrived in Bellagio, she’d noticed the tension in the taut muscles stretching his shirt. He had to have a good reason to avoid seeing his grandmother all those years—if he didn’t care for her, why come up with a fake engagement to give her something to smile about? Her stomach knotted. None of this was her business. Yet…

She slipped her feet into the nude Louboutin shoes and straightened her shoulders. Asking him to give her anything other than what he’d promised—hot sex—was dangerous. Determined to stop those furtive thoughts, she left the room. Surely, he’d meet her later.

Other than Marie, she hadn’t met any of his family members or his grandmother yet. Anxiety cooled her skin with every step she took down the stairs. Once again, she found herself admiring those huge paintings, with pictures of what she imagined were former generations. The house had luxury, but an old-world quaintness also had its stamp on the furniture and accents. She stepped onto the distressed wood flooring at last, and this time quite a few people occupied the opulent living room, which was enormous, with double doors that opened to a terrace overlooking Lake Como.

“Miss?”

An impeccably uniformed waiter offered her some champagne. She picked a glass from the tray, thanking him quietly, then took the flute to her mouth and drank the entire contents in one gulp. By the time she set it on a nearby table, her limbs had loosened, and a delicious bubbly sensation overpowered her head, leaving her dizzy and relaxed. If everything else failed, drinking would be the best way to get through the next few days of pretending to be someone she was not.

A tall, red-haired woman in her forties walked up to her. She spoke Italian.

“I’m sorry, I don’t speak Italian,” Lily replied in English.

The woman smiled. “I said your dress is pretty. Who made it?”

She should have spent more time fumbling over the tag. “I’m not sure, to be honest. It’s a spur of the moment purchase I made when I was in Bloomingdale’s last week.”

“I quite understand. I’m Arietta,” she said, pronouncing her name with a sexy musicality Lily envied.

“Pretty name. I’m Lily, nice to meet you.”

Arietta lifted her champagne flute. “Pleasure. I’m sorry for prying, but I haven’t seen you in any of Nonna’s previous parties. I would certainly have remembered.”

“Yes. I haven’t been in any of her parties. Haven’t met her yet, actually. My fiancé brought me here.”

Arietta’s eyes gleamed, and she leaned closer, visibly interested. “How adorable. And who would that be?”

“Marco.”

Arietta’s expression froze for a moment, as if she was legit shocked about the news. Quickly, she blinked and recovered. “I didn’t even know he was engaged.”

“It happened quickly, but when you know, you know.” That’s what people said, anyway. The only thing Lily knew, or hoped, was that Marco wouldn’t shun her for introducing herself before he’d had the chance to. Relax, her inner voice whispered. They had a fake story in place for a reason…for opportunities like this. Besides, she was being handsomely rewarded to be his fake fiancée. Which meant she should act like one at all times.

“What I know is, I can’t wait to learn more about you, Lily,” the lady said, bringing her arm to her.

Oh, shit. She’d given Arietta her real name! “Actually, my name is Patricia. I’m sorry. Lily is my middle name, and I use it sometimes as a pseudonym. I go by Patricia with my friends and family.”

“Patricia Lily. What a cute combination.”

“Actually, just Patricia please. Let’s forget about Lily,” she said, forcing a smile. She was so screwed. If Marco found out, he’d be less than thrilled. Apprehension pressed hard in her gut, and bile rose at the back of her throat. Crap. Crap.

“Sure. Well, you said you have a pseudonym. Are you an artist?”

Lily clasped her hands together, eager to ease the cold sweat breaking out on her palms. She sooo sucked at lying. “Unknown artist. I work with numbers…investments… In my free time I love to sculpt. I haven’t found someone to represent me. It’s more like a hobby,” she added, unsure if she should shut up or keep going at this point. She had taken sculpting classes before she had to give them up due to the high cost. Those classes had been more of a stress relief when her father began to get sick.

“You don’t say. That’s terrific,” Arietta said, tucking her arm into Lily’s as if they were old friends strolling down memory lane. “Come with me. I’ll introduce you around. You’re such a treasure, I wouldn’t dare keep you to myself.”

“I—I should go find Marco.” Lily was desperate to regain a shred of control. Was the woman being condescending, or did she genuinely like her and want to share the novelty of Marco’s engagement with others?

---