I WAS FULLY AWARE OF what money could accomplish in a short span of time, but seeing Riley's face when she stepped into the wonderland that Italy's most expensive wedding planner had created on the estate overnight was well worth it.
My initial thought had been to have a small civil ceremony. There was no need for frills with a sham of a marriage, after all.
But Riley... tonight she will be giving me something very special. And though the feeling is a new one for me... I want to give her something in return.
And so I gave the wedding planners free reign, with one stipulation only... white. The constant reminder of Riley's gift to me has me excited beyond measure, and I know that she will be thinking of it all day, as well.
I would gladly skip the entire party, eager to rush on to the evening's planned activities. But in addition to knowing that Riley would be stunned, I knew that having an actual wedding, complete with paparazzi at hand to document the nuptials of Italy's most eligible bachelor, might set Emilia back on her heels.
I need her to understand that, even though we both know this marriage is a sham, for the month that it exists I intend for it to be very real.
No one will harm my wife, in any way. That primal need to mark Riley as my own is only strengthened when she walks down the white petal strewn aisle toward me, her sparkling eyes wide and nervous.
Though I didn't tell the planners my reason for choosing white, they seem to have understood, and have emphasized the theme with the bride herself. Riley's dress is white, of course, short and sleeveless and sweet. Her hair is a mass of innocent braids, all pulled back in a twist, and my fingers itch, to rip the short lacy veil away, to fist the long chestnut ribbons as I thrust inside of her.
I couldn't be more pleased with my choice of temporary bride. And that pleasure allows me to tamp away thoughts of marriage as I know it, a loveless, miserable union.
I have no choice in this matter. And no matter that I paid this woman to be here, I intend to make the most of this next month, for us both.
The ceremony passes in a blur of camera flashes and traditional Italian music. In the interest of keeping it on the smaller side of things, I decided that we wouldn't have a full meal for our guests, but rather wine and antipasti and dancing, followed by a timely exit by the bride and groom.
I am pleased with the dancing aspect as I pull my new wife into my arms for the first dance. She has had the same slightly dazed look on her face all day, and as press my body to hers I can't resist claiming her lips with my own, a dark promise of what is to come.
"Mmm." She sighs, the trepidation and nerves disappearing as we both ignore the camera flashes that explode, recording the kiss. "It's real then, isn't it? We're married."
"So it would seem." It's hard to remember, in that moment, that I barely know my bride. "Of course, it's not entirely legal... not yet."
"Right." Riley looks up at me, all big eyes, as she sinks her teeth into her lower lip.
"Keep doing that and we'll be consummating this before we can make it anywhere private." I warn her. Her cheeks flush, and I grin. "Careful, Mrs. Benenati. I might forget that you're a bride for hire and fall for you for real."
Riley stiffens in my arms, and I curse.
"Dio. Riley, I didn't mean it like that." Stupid Matteo. Stupid. I know I'm an arrogant ass, but somehow, I don't want to be with her. "I just meant... this all feels real. But... it's not."
I don't like the expression on her face. But then again, maybe it's best that I remind her... remind us both.
That small internal click that I feel when we look at one another... that will fade with time. It's for the best that this union comes with an expiry date.
"Right." I expect her to ream me out, to have a tantrum. Instead she grins up at me mischievously. "Matteo Benenati with his foot in his mouth. Some might say you were nervous... like a virgin."
My body heats, my focus intensifying, narrowing until I see nothing but her.
"Don't taunt the lion, little lamb." I whisper against her ear, my teeth nipping at the tender lobe.
She shivers, her body pressing against me, and I'm done. I'm not used to waiting for things that I want, and now?
Riley Tremaine... Riley Benenati... is mine, officially, legally. At least for the next month. There is no reason to delay any longer.
I intend to spend the next month naked and in bed with her. It's not such a bad deal, after all... sating myself on the only woman to ever intrigue me, and protecting my legacy by doing so.
"We're leaving." I'm feeling quite smug, entirely pleased with myself as I scoop Riley into my arms without warning and carry her to the house. Catcalls and well wishes, as well as yet more camera flashes, follow the movement.
Setting my bride down on her feet at the foot of the stairs, I kiss her soundly, long and hot and wet, pulling away only when her fingers slowly, tentatively, curl into my belt.
"Take me upstairs?" Her eyes are wide pools, her stare innocent and hot at the same time. My fingers curl around her waist, then release quickly.
"Not yet." Swallowing thickly, I wrench myself away. "We're going somewhere first."
Riley's eyes narrow with determination, and she stands on her toes, pressing a kiss to my jaw. The smell of her perfume, her skin, are nearly my undoing... I've never wanted a woman more.
"I don't want to wait." Her fingers toy with my collar, and I allow her to undo my tie and loosen the top button of my shirt. "Let's go after."
"Mrs. Benenati. A little restraint, if you please." Catching her wrists in my hands, I kiss her fingers, then step back. "It will be worth the wait, I promise."
Franco enters through the front door, nodding when he sees us.
"Go get in the car." I gently turn Riley in Franco's direction, and can't resist spanking her delectable ass, just hard enough to get her attention. Her cheeks flush, and I wonder if I can make it all the way to our destination without sliding inside of her.
She takes a step toward Franco, then pauses, turns. "Your doctor came to see me today, while I was getting dressed. He said that everything is good." She holds my gaze, and a growl emanates from my throat.
"Get your ass in the car, woman." I know what she's saying.
I had my doctor pay her a visit, to give her a birth control shot. He had warned me that it might not work for up to a week, depending on timing.
But what she's telling me is that the first time I make love to my wife, I can do it with nothing between us.
My internal temperature rises as I watch her sashay through the front door, knowing full well what effect she is having on me.
I've never met anyone quite like her.
"You look like you're about to have a stroke, Matteo." Emilia's voice floats through the air from behind me, and I stiffen, remembering the events of the last two days, before whirling and baring my teeth at my stepsister.
Before I can say a word, she holds up her hands in a gesture of peace. "I'm just here to give my blessing."
"What?" This stops me in my tracks. I look her over suspiciously. Most weddings that I have seen Emilia attend, she has dressed in the skimpiest dresses imaginable, designed to display her fabulous body and detract attention from the bride. That's just who she is.
But right now she's wearing a cream colored, textured shift. It's the most demure I've ever seen her.
"What are you doing?" I know this woman. She's ruthless. I can't imagine her vacillating between offering herself to me and... this... within a few days.
She has the good grace to look down at her dress and flush. I've never, not once, ever seen Emilia Guerra blush. It edges me ever so slightly from suspicion into wanting to hear what she has to say.
She might be a ruthless demon, but she's the only family I have left.
"I came to apologize. And, like I said, to give my blessing." She purses her lips, and the expression makes her seem softer than her usual man eater persona. "The company was never meant to be mine. I know that. It just... it hurts to be cut out. I overreacted."
I don't quite know what to say. I want to be suspicious. I know the way Emilia's mind works. But...
Something rings true, and I find a crack in my own ruthless armor.
"Let's set up a meeting for when Riley and I are back." Though it's a strange thing for me to do, I reach out and pat my stepsister on the shoulder.
I can't believe I've said it. I'm married now. I'm almost there—almost full owner of Benenati Enterprises.
But Emilia has worked long and hard, too. She deserves something. Though not to the extent that I would be left with nothing.
An expression that I can't quite understand crosses her face, but it morphs so quickly into a smile that I don't ponder it for too long.
"Be careful with her, Matteo." Emilia says shrewdly, her eyes narrowing. "She's not your usual type."
Anger flashes white hot. "I'm fully aware of that. It's why I like her."
Emilia smiles knowingly, and I grind my teeth together. "Yes, but Matteo... this marriage... it's only for a month. You know that you'll be able to walk away after, because you know that money, excitement, woman will be waiting for you."
"I don't like where you're going with this." I glare, even as her words worm their way into my consciousness.
"I'm just saying, Matteo. A girl like Riley? She's not going to be able to help falling for you. She's not used to our kind of lifestyle. She could walk away with a broken heart if you're not careful."
I shake my head irritably, even though Emilia's words are a punch straight to my gut. Two days ago, I wouldn't have cared about Riley's thoughts or feelings. The idea of her being crushed at the end of this all wouldn't have been my problem, so long as I got what I wanted.
Now... I don't like the idea of her hurting. Not at all.
"I know what I'm doing," I snap at Emilia. She smiles.
"Just be gentle." She places a kiss on my cheek, and it makes me think of how much smaller Riley is. Despite all of her bravado, she's fragile when in this world. It's my job to protect her, not to hurt her more.
As I bid Emilia goodbye and leave the house, heading for the car where my bride is waiting for me to take her to our wedding night, I wonder...
I wonder if I've made a terrible mistake.