Carina’s eyes widened. “Can I have it?”
Maggie fisted her hands and stared at the book in horror. “What? No, no, it’s a silly thing. That stuff doesn’t work and your brother will kill me if he sees you with a witchcraft book.”
“Not witchcraft. This says you have to list all the qualities you want and need in a mate. Follow the spell and he comes to you.” She flipped through the pages while Maggie fought sheer panic. “Wow, it says you have to make a fire to honor Earth Mother. Oh, Maggie, please? I swear I won’t tell a soul, it’s just supercool.”
Maggie’s mouth hung open like a guppy. Why hadn’t she thrown it out when she had the chance? It was like a bad penny that kept showing up. She was going to kill Alexa for forcing her to take it. Absolutely kill her.
“Maggie? Please?”
With growing anticipation, she stared at the book, as if waiting to see if it would disappear in a cloud of smoke. No such luck. What a rotten day, beginning with a crazy cat. She closed her eyes and hoped this wasn’t going to be the biggest mistake of her life. “Okay, fine. But don’t tell anyone. You know it’s just a joke, right? Tell me you’re not thinking of taking this seriously, Carina, or I’ll throw it away now.”
Carina shook her head and held up her hand. “Promise. I just think it’s fun. When I’m done looking at it, I’ll get rid of it. Thanks, Maggie!” She bounded out of the room and shut the door behind her.
Maggie rolled over and smashed her face into the pillow.
Enough. She despised pity parties, especially her own. She’d start packing her bags, line up a plane ticket, and get out of here.
A knock sounded on the door.
She groaned into the pillow. “Go away!”
“Maggie, I’m coming in.”
Michael.
She shot up. Maybe this was for the best. Get the confrontation over with. He’d scream at her for messing up his family life, she’d tell him she was out of here, and they’d come to some type of arrangement so they can both get what they want. She smoothed her hair down and took a deep breath. “Come in.”
He entered and shut the door behind him. Her mouth dried and her stomach fluttered. His presence filled up the room and crowded out every spare inch with a masculinity that was a natural part of who he was. Maggie had a crazy vision of stripping off his clothes and surrendering to him right here. Right now.
Before she left.
She fought the impulse and remained calm. His dark eyes seared into hers as if waiting for her to speak. “I suppose you’re here to yell.”
His lip quirked. “Not this time.”
The silence pulsed with an undercurrent of danger. The sizzling sexual tension lit between them, causing her to scooch back one inch away from him. Just an inch. “Oh. Well, good, because I’m not the in the mood. I’ve had a crappy day.”
“Me, too. I’m about to change that.”
She heard a thump and realized he’d toed off his shoes. The elegant fabric of his shirt barely contained his broad chest and muscled arms. Maggie curled her fingers to curb the urge to explore each hard angle of his body. She barreled on. “Michael, we have to talk. I want to go home.”
One brow lifted but he remained silent. He slowly unraveled his navy-blue tie from the knot, slid it around his neck, and let it drop. “Why?”
Her mouth fell open. “Um, let me think about this. Because this whole trip has been a disaster. Because I’m miserable, and you’re miserable, and we’re making a mess out of your family. Because I hate lying, and I can’t spend one more day pretending to be your loving, dutiful wife. I’ll come up with an excuse. Say someone died. A long-lost cousin or uncle so I won’t feel guilty. I think we made our intentions known to be married by a priest, and I’m sure we can keep up the ruse until Venezia’s wedding.”
Michael cocked his head as if listening, then slowly slid the hair tie from his hair. The strands shimmered around his face and fell to his shoulders. The gesture made her thighs clench in agony as wet heat rushed to her center and throbbed. She itched to photograph him—a powerful, dangerous male contained in a civilized suit. God, he was beautiful.
She chattered on with a mad effort to reign in the red-hot want that speared her. “In fact, if you really want me to, I’ll come to Venezia’s wedding. I gave you my word, and I intend to keep my side of the bargain.”
She stared helplessly up at him, certain some type of game was being played but she was not a party to the rules.
A slow smile curved his lips. “Running scared, la mia tigrotta?” he drawled. “I’m disappointed. One night together and you already can’t handle it?”
She gasped. “You’re the one who can’t handle the truth, Count. I’m tired of pu**yfooting around you like the rest of your family. It’s time you wake up and face the way you view your sisters and admit you love control so much you’ll do anything to keep it.”
“You are correct.” His fingers flicked open the first few buttons of his shirt.
She blinked. A swirl of black hair. Deep olive skin. Flat ni**les on a mass of muscle. “Huh? What did you say?”
“I said you are correct. I spoke with my sisters and begged for their apology. I agree with everything you said today in the conference room.”
Stunned, she just stared as the buttons kept opening. A washboard stomach. An intriguing dark line that disappeared beneath the buckle of his pants. Her mouth watered and her brain fogged. He untucked the shirt from his pants so it fell completely open.
“What—what the hell are you doing?” she squeaked.
“Taking you to bed.” The shirt hit the floor. His hands worked on the belt buckle, then slid it through the loops. Then he undid his zipper.
Her gaze roved greedily over the male perfection before her. He put his hands on his hips. “Come here, Maggie.”
Her heart pounded so hard her blood strangled, then pumped madly in an effort to keep up with her hormones. “Huh?”
“Hmm, I should have done this a while ago. Who would’ve thought you’d ever be speechless?” He snagged her hand and pulled her off the bed.
Dumbstruck by the sexual electricity from the touch of his skin on hers, she allowed herself to be led so she stood before him.
“Let me be clear, la mia tigrotta. I’m taking you to bed. I’m going to strip off your clothes, bury myself deep inside you, and make you come so many times the only word from your lips will be my name, begging me to do it all over again.” He sank his fingers into her hair and tugged. Then he loomed over her, his eyes hotly promising her every decadent, lustful pleasure she could take. “Capisce?”