Chapter Twelve
CHAPTER TWELVE
“W E ’ LL FLY TO New York tonight,” Dom stated when Eve returned from fixing her makeup. “You’re a resident there, yes? So am I. We can marry in twenty-four hours.”
“Dom.” Her knees were so weak, she needed the chair he held for her. They hadn’t taken a single bite yet. This was their first date. They might know each other in a biblical sense, but, “We’re strangers to each other. We can’t marry that quickly.”
“I’m not spending the next year listening to threats from our families that they’re boycotting our wedding. I’m not giving you a chance to change your mind.” His eyes gleamed hard as polished bronze. “This won’t be an easy sell to either side so we’re not going to try. It will be done and their only choice will be to live with it. In harmony,” he added with the arid sarcasm she was learning was his trademark.
Eve was trying to rearrange her brain cells to take in all of this. Her brother’s call had made it clear that her marrying Dom would solve a lot of problems for her family. Nico hadn’t ordered or pressured her to accept Dom’s proposal. He had outlined the stakes and asked .
He was right about the weight of responsibility, too. It was smothering her.
“What if it doesn’t work out? We divorce? That won’t be good for either companies or our families.”
“No, it won’t. We have to make it work, Eve.”
He always sounded so grave when he called her that. It was disconcerting.
“What if I can’t have children?” She tossed that out as a defense mechanism, since she was running out of arguments.
“Children are not a deal-breaker for me. Your delicate hips are safe if you’d rather not put pressure on them.” The corners of his mouth deepened with facetious amusement. “I have a nephew who has the temperament to be my successor at WBE if necessary, but we’ll cross that bridge when we have to. I’d like children if you’re up for it. I don’t see my nieces and nephews often, and they’re absolute monsters when I do, but for some reason I enjoy them.”
Oh, God. She didn’t want to like him, but how could she not when he said something like that?
“Do you want children?” he pressed.
“I always thought I’d have two or three,” she admitted. “So I could bring them here for the summer and yell at them not to track sand into the house, the way Nonna did with us.”
“Sounds idyllic. Any deal-breakers?”
“Love. At least, it used to be.” She dropped her gaze to hide how much disappointment lurked within her, then lifted her lashes to meet his cool, flinty expression. “I imagine that sounds immature to you?”
He took a moment to consider his words.
“I hated those four years of abstinence.” His voice was hard, but reflective, not assigning blame. “Since the island, I keep thinking it was good that we didn’t get together in Budapest. The first time I saw you, I knew you were too young. Not just for me, but for the sort of affair we would have had. I’m glad you have some life experience behind you.”
Did she, though? She wished she’d had a dozen throwaway affairs and at least one broken heart instead of carrying fractures in her heart that he had put there. Either way, she didn’t think anything could have prepared her for this. Him.
“Don’t you want to marry someone you love?” she asked hesitantly.
“I won’t say I don’t believe in it, but love seems... It comes with high costs. It’s as much a weapon as anything else.”
“That’s not true.” Did he really believe that? Why? “Love is a cushion. A home base. A place of safety. Love protects you.”
“From what? Meteors? Life is going to impact you, whether you love someone or not. I’ll grant you that love can skew how you react to those impacts. In my father’s case, his love for his brother set him on a mission of vengeance.”
Was that the reason for his cynicism? She was still troubled by the things he’d said about his father in Australia.
“He sounds like a difficult man,” she murmured.
“He was.” His face closed up, becoming shuttered and remote. “My mother had the sense to leave him, but my stepmother was forever trying to pull redeeming qualities out of him. Because she loved him. It was painful to watch.”
“Painful to be his son?” she surmised.
“Yes,” he said with a blink that was a small, unconscious flinch. “He taught me that living without love is easier, especially if it was never there in the first place.”
A vast plane seemed to open before her, empty and desolate. She had the sense he was out there somewhere and had the fleeting thought, I’ll never reach him . An ache arrived in her throat.
“You grew up believing your grandmother running away with your grandfather was a demonstration of love, but for who? Herself?”
“What’s wrong with that?”
“Nothing. Just be honest about it. Where’s the cushion for her family in that?”
“She was nineteen. She couldn’t have known your grandfather would react so harshly.”
He ran his tongue across his teeth behind his lip, studying her as though weighing whether to say something.
“What?” she prompted.
“I believe my grandfather felt something for her. That’s why he was so devastated by her eloping with someone else. I think my father never got over my mother leaving him, which added another layer to his bastardish behavior. Love is not the great, wonderful entity you want it to be, Evie. It’s destructive.”
She turned her face to the window, trying to hide how much it hurt that he was reducing her yearning for that emotion into a girlish notion.
“Have you never felt anything like it?” she asked. “A crush? What about the woman you were engaged to? Are you this jaded about it because of her?”
“No,” he said without hesitation. “Our marriage would have been advantageous in many ways and she blew it up because I didn’t carve out my heart and offer it to her. I have no hard feelings because I had no soft ones.” His lip curled. “No, I’ve only felt anything remotely like a crush once.”
Who? A scald of envy, of threat, engulfed her.
“That sexual crush has been torturing me for four years,” he continued, voice pitched low with intensity. “I’m determined to turn it into something productive. Otherwise, I’ll burn down the world around me. Or your world, anyway, like my father and his father before that.”
It hurt to hear that she was only a sexual crush to him, and that he felt it was destructive, but his words also sent the unsteadiness of anxious anticipation infiltrating her belly, sending out fingers of tension and ready heat.
“You?” he asked with gentle mockery. “How many crushes have you had?” His eyes narrowed to golden, laser-sharp slits.
“I wish other men interested me,” she admitted with a pang of despair. “Women. Anyone. I hate how helpless you make me feel. But I can’t devote my life to being your...sex doll. If that’s all we have between us, I’ll need to find personal fulfilment elsewhere.”
“Meaning?” The way his voice dropped to subzero raised goose bumps on her skin.
“Work. I just told you no one else interests me,” she reminded him.
Dom blinked, then shrugged with something like impatience, as though this was a topic completely lacking in importance. “If you want to work, work.”
“At a real job,” she stressed. “Not some lame portfolio picking out wallpaper and cutting cake. Not something that’s handed to me like a toy to keep me quiet.”
“I’m insulted.” He sat back to frown at her. “Do you see me as sexist? One of my sisters is a human rights lawyer. She has joined an organization that sends her to countries where men don’t think women should speak, let alone have the level of education she brings to the table. I hate it. I think constantly about how I need to be available to fly at a moment’s notice to bail her out of trumped-up charges, but I’m so proud of her, I can’t stand it. If you want to work, I won’t hold you back. I’m perfectly capable of finding my own dinner if you’re not there, barefoot and pregnant, to cook it for me.”
“Well, I don’t have her level of ambition. If that’s the bar she sets, you’re going to be disappointed in whatever goals I pursue.”
“I’ll be happy with whatever makes you happy. I don’t want to come home to a miserable wife, Evie. She won’t want to have sex with me.”
She rolled her eyes and buried her reluctant grin against the rim of her champagne flute. Damn him for being arrogant, truthful, and self-deprecating. For being charming in his crude way.
“We’ve covered children and work. Do you have a preferred religion? I have none.”
“Judging by the way we behave, I don’t think either of us do.”
That earned her a snort of appreciation.
She shook her head in answer. “Nonna was Catholic, but I haven’t gone since her funeral. What about a prenup? We need time for that.”
“We’ll sign something that ensures our properties remain our own until such time as we’ve worked out more formal contracts post-nup. You’re right. Those negotiations could take months, but if we’re already married, that should take a lot of the contention out of it.”
“Because Nico needs your money? Dom—”
“No. I know what you’re going to say and no, I don’t want to wait. We can put off sex until our wedding night, if that’s important to you, but I want that night to arrive very soon.”
“Are you laughing at me?” Because she hadn’t been waiting for her wedding night. She’d been waiting for him.
“I’m laughing at both of us.” He reached across the table to still the hand that was nervously playing with the stem on her wineglass. “We’ve wasted enough time, Evie.”
Heaven help her, she felt the same. Even these weeks since Australia felt like time they’d thrown away out of stubbornness and stupidity when she could have had that hand all over her. The mere touch of it was making her tremble with desire.
“All right,” she murmured. “Let’s fly back to New York tonight.”
This was likely to be a disaster, but she was marrying Domenico Blackwood.
By the time Dom’s private jet landed in New York, rumors of their engagement had leaked from the restaurant onto the global airwaves. It was midmorning and, since Eve also had her identification on her, he had his driver take them straight to the courthouse to apply for a marriage license.
The law required they wait twenty-four hours so he booked them an officiant for precisely twenty-four hours later. At her request, he dropped Eve at a boutique while he made the rest of the arrangements for their wedding.
It was just a business deal with a side of sex, but an unfamiliar restlessness stalked him until they met again at his penthouse. Then he finally relaxed, which unsettled him in a different way.
Evie was crashing from jet lag so he put her in a guest room—reluctantly—and found his own bed a few hours later.
The following day, he invited his mother and Nico to his penthouse. He didn’t tell either of them what was happening so his mother arrived without her partner, perhaps expecting an update on the stock portfolio he managed for her.
“Oh,” Kathleen Blackwood said with a self-conscious touch of the pearls when he introduced Eve and explained what was happening. “I would have worn something nicer if I’d known.” She was as elegantly turned out as always in a sweater set over a slimline skirt, hair coiffed and makeup flawless. “It was kind of you to invite me,” she said as she pressed her cheek to each of Eve’s.
“Dom said you were the one person on his side who might actually support this marriage,” Eve said with a hopeful quirk of her brows. “And since my own mother isn’t here, I wonder if you’d be willing to come zip me into my gown?” She was still in the yoga pants and loose T-shirt she’d put on when she rose.
“I’d be honored.”
Kathleen came back to the lounge a few minutes later wearing a smile he’d never seen before. It was somewhere between serene and optimistic. Maybe even, as she found him across the room, pride?
An unsteady sensation hit the middle of his chest, one that made him look impatiently for Evie so he wouldn’t have to examine whatever this inner wobble was.
“She’ll be out in a moment,” his mother said as she squeezed his arm. “You know, given how your father always talked about them, I don’t think I could have imagined a Visconti being so charming. She’s lovely, Dom. I’m really touched that you chose to include me. I hope this means that... Well, that things can start to heal. For everyone.”
The way she searched his eyes caused the wobble inside him to grow worse.
It’s practical , he wanted to argue. Just business. Just sex .
It wasn’t supposed to be an emotional tonic. That was too much pressure to put on either of them.
The elevator dinged, saving him from the sense of walls closing in.
“That’ll be Evie’s brother.” He started to brush past her, but he hesitated and gave her arm a light squeeze. “Thank you for being here. I hope we can all move forward, too.”
Nico entered and grew both confused and suspicious when Dom introduced him to his mother.
Evie came out from the bedroom in a gown the color of whipped cream. Its one-shoulder crepe fabric clung smoothly and seamlessly to her torso and hips, flaring midthigh just wide enough for her to walk. Her hair was in a simple knot held with a silver clasp.
Such a jolt of pleasure hit him at the sight of her, Dom could hardly breathe. He’d had a fresh haircut yesterday and shaved this morning. He was dressed in his best suit, but he suddenly wished he’d had time to have a new one made. As much as he wanted this union formalized and finalized—and consummated—he could see the care Eve had taken despite this not being the wedding of her dreams.
It struck him that his sisters had approached their own wedding days with giddy excitement. Eve was very subdued, especially as she came up against her brother’s thunderous reaction.
“What the hell , Lina?”
Dom held out his hand in a silent command that she come to his side, which she did, but not because she needed his protection.
“What,” she said in a mild voice. “You asked me to do this.”
“I asked you to consider it.” He glared at Dom. “Why the rush?” He snapped a look of fresh shock at Evie. “Are you pregnant? Did you two sleep together in Australia?”
“When have I ever asked you about your sex life?” Evie snapped right back at him. “I really need you to check this sexism of yours, Nico. It’s 2015.”
“No, it’s—” His mouth tightened and her brows went up. “ Are you pregnant?” he demanded.
“Still none of your business,” she said coldly. “But, no. I’m not. Although, people will probably presume that, won’t they?” She wrinkled her nose as she looked up at Dom.
“Dad already does,” Nico warned. “He called me yesterday when the engagement rumors started.”
“What did you tell him?” Her hand tightened in Dom’s.
“That you were on your way back to New York and that you and I would come see them today to explain.”
“You’ll have to manage that on your own,” Dom interjected. “We’re leaving right after the ceremony for our honeymoon. We can only stay away a week since Evie has a job interview next Wednesday that she can’t miss.”
“Where?” Nico frowned at her.
“I don’t know. Did I miss a call?” She looked up at him in confusion.
“WBE has three executive positions coming available this year. One starts in a couple of weeks, but they could all benefit from your skill set. I’d like you to meet with our hiring team and consider whether any appeal. It’s not nepotism.” He turned that onto Nico. “Or a continuation of our rivalry, although I think we both operate best with a healthy sense of competition. No, I genuinely think you have slept on her potential. I refuse to make the same mistake. Ah. Here’s the officiant,” he noted as the elevator pinged once more.
His housekeeper hurried from the kitchen with the bouquet and a broad smile.
“Evelina,” Nico said, quiet and urgent. “Are you sure about this?”
She searched Dom’s expression. Her dark brows were lowered to a tense, conflicted line as though searching for something in him that he very much feared he didn’t have.
When she nodded jerkily, he relaxed.
Moments later, they were repeating the words their officiant provided. The vows were taken straight from city hall, short and sweet.
“Domenico, do you solemnly promise to love, honor and respect Evelina for as long as you both shall live?”
“I do.”
“Evelina, do you solemnly promise to love, honor and respect Domenico for as long as you both shall live?”
“I do.” Her voice was quiet, but steady. Her hand was soft and warm when he threaded her wedding band onto it.
Dom had never imagined wearing a ring could feel any more profound than wearing a tie pin or a wristwatch. This whole day should have felt as though he was only collecting one more person onto his list of dependents, but he somehow knew that no matter whether that gold band sat against his skin or in a safety deposit box, he was changed by it. Not branded or bound, but linked to Eve in a way that defied logic or description.
“By the power vested in me, I pronounce you married. You may kiss!”
As Dom took her in his arms, she tensed slightly and flashed an apprehensive look up at him. Anxious tears threatened to dampen her lashes.
Don’t let my brother see what I’m like with you.
He heard her voice in his head as clearly as though she’d spoken the words aloud.
Dom angled so his shoulder blocked Nico’s view of her. He cupped her cheek and pressed a kiss across her trembling mouth, holding there in soft reassurance. Her passion was for him and him alone, not something to be put on display for anyone else to witness.
But even in that brief kiss, need and desire danced toward urgency. Her lips pulled at his with invitation, tempting him to linger and feed the fire.
Soon , he promised, keeping his arm around her as they broke apart and smiled for his mother’s snapshot. Moments later, the paperwork was finished. Dom texted his assistant to release the statement they’d agreed upon and carried their luggage into the elevator while Evie changed into travel clothes.
Nico rode down with them, muttering that he hoped to reach their parents before they saw the headlines.
Thirty minutes later, he and Eve were in the air, flying south. They each held a glass of champagne, but she was worrying her bottom lip with her teeth.
“What’s wrong?” he asked her.
“My parents. I should have gone with Nico.” She worried the edge of her phone with her thumb.
A surge of possessiveness had him wanting to dismiss whatever guilt or obligation she might be experiencing, but he made himself say, “Are you feeling strongly enough that I should ask the pilot to turn this plane around?”
“No,” she said on a sigh. “Dad will need some time to cool off. Mom, too. She’s been planning my wedding since she heard the words, ‘It’s a girl.’”
He let out a subtle breath.
“I’ll foot the bill on the reception. Tell her to go whole hog.”
“Ironically, it’s always been a family joke to warn me not to elope like Nonna Maria. A joke, but not really,” she clarified with a crooked smile. “Now I have, but instead of running from a Blackwood, I’m with one.”
“Are you regretting that?”
“No,” she said promptly, then grimaced slightly at how quickly she’d said it.
Which was cute. Endearing.
“No,” he repeated as he picked up the hand wearing both his rings. He set his teeth against her bent knuckle. Her gaze hazed exactly the way he liked to see it.
“What are you thinking about, my pretty little Evie?”
“Um...” Her lashes quivered as she watched the play of his lips against her twitching fingers. “That...um...”
It was like a switch, this thing between them. It took absolutely nothing to flip it and once it was on, it was on . But he made her say it. He wanted her to acknowledge it. He needed her to. The small beast inside him needed to know she was exactly as helpless to it as he was.
“I’ve...um...” Her cheeks flushed with shy color. She glanced to the flight attendant in the galley before leaning closer to whisper, “I’ve always wondered how one joins the mile-high club?”
“Oh.” He was absolutely addicted to her when she was both carnal and curious. It turned him on like nothing else. “It’s a very exclusive club. You need a personal invite.”
“By someone who’s already a member?” Her tone grew piqued.
Uh-oh. “Not at all,” he said smoothly. “You could definitely ask me to become a member with you.”
“Well, then. Consider yourself invited.” She unclipped her belt and rose.