Total pages in book: 81
Estimated words: 77359 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 387(@200wpm)___ 309(@250wpm)___ 258(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 77359 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 387(@200wpm)___ 309(@250wpm)___ 258(@300wpm)
I nodded. “I know.”
“And you’re ... okay with it?”
“No.” Not any more than I was okay with the things my father did. “But I’m okay with you.”
“You’ll still marry me?”
Why did he say that like I had a choice? “I—”
“Wait. Don’t answer that.” He eased my hand off of him and sat up.
“What are you doing?”
He stood up and then turned, facing me. “I never proposed to you.”
Shocked, I sat up. “What?”
He lowered one knee to the floor, and our eyes were nearly level. “Will you marry me, Leila?”
I gaped at him. Was he serious? Our wedding was in a matter of hours—and I didn’t have a choice.
Or did I?
“What if I say no?”
His eyes were serious. “Then we’ll figure out what to do. Is that your answer?”
My thoughts went in a thousand directions as I stared at the gorgeous, half-naked man on one knee. A complicated man who’d done some bad things ... but who had also tried to do some good ones.
“No,” I said softly.
Though he didn’t move, his face fell.
“I mean, no, that’s not my answer.”
“Then what is?” Before I could respond, he continued. “I can’t promise you much of anything, Leila. I want to keep you safe. I want to make you happy. But I can’t promise you that. I couldn’t do either of those things for Crystal.”
I reached out and traced a finger along a tattoo on his upper arm—the one that had a swirl that looked a bit like the letter C. The way he said her name made my heart ache, but not out of jealousy. What had happened to her obviously hurt him. And I hurt for her, too. It was foolish, but I hoped that somehow she was safe now.
Massimo waited, still balanced on one knee. I believed him. He did want me to be happy. He probably hadn’t cared one way or another when we first got engaged, but he did now.
And that should’ve made my answer simpler, but there were two things holding me back: Stefano and Carmine.
They’d be my brothers-in-law, and they’d still live here—at least until they found brides of their own. But it hurt so much that we couldn’t share the closeness that had grown between us. It was odd that months ago, I would’ve given anything for a chance to choose my fate. And now I hated the fact that I had to choose one man when I loved three.
Of all the things that I wished were different, that was at the top of the list.
“Yes, I’ll marry you.”
The smile that broke out on Massimo’s face was the most genuine one I’d ever seen from him. “Give me your hand.”
I held out my left hand, and he slid the ring off my finger. “Probably should’ve taken this off before asking you.” He held the ring up, giving us both a chance to examine the glittering diamond. Then he placed it back on my finger.
I captured his hand in mine and pulled him toward me. When his mouth descended on mine, I wrapped my arms around him and let the intensity of his kiss drive all doubts from my mind.
He lowered me to the bed, and as I landed on my back, I held up my hand, looking at the ring.
Massimo chuckled, one knee on the bed as he stood over me. “You’ve been wearing that for nearly two months.”
“Yes, but now it feels official. You finally proposed.”
“Guess that means we’re really engaged.” He looked at the clock on his bedside table. “About time, too, since it’s officially our wedding day.”
Surprised, I looked over at the clock. It was after midnight. “Wow, it is. It’s finally here.”
Massimo nudged me over and lay down next to me. “Is it everything you’d hoped it would be?”
He was teasing, but I couldn’t help thinking about Stefano and Carmine. It felt like every step I took toward Massimo was a step farther away from them—but that’s how it had to be.
Massimo stroked a hand on my stomach over the T-shirt I wore. Then he leaned in and kissed my cheek by my ear. “I’ve never talked about that to anyone before.”
“I’m glad you told me.”
“It’s not exactly fitting conversation for our wedding night.”
I slanted a look at him. “Our wedding night is tomorrow. Or, I mean, tonight.”
He raised an eyebrow. “Our wedding is today, right?”
“Right.”
“And it’s nighttime, right?”
“Well yeah, but—”
“So doesn’t that make this our wedding night?”
I giggled. “We get two?”
“Sounds good to me.” He stroked my stomach again. It made the fabric of the T-shirt brush against my panties. I’d finally gotten some pretty ones when I’d gone shopping for the dress for the rehearsal dinner. “Shouldn’t you be wearing something fancier, since it’s your wedding night, Mrs. Moretti?”
Wow. That name was going to take some getting used to. “It’s one of our wedding nights,” I corrected. “I’ll wear something nicer to bed tomorrow.” Though it hadn’t occurred to me until this moment that I should have tried to find something special. Probably normal young women had bridesmaids—or older sisters—to remind them of that kind of thing.