Resisting his cinderella.., p.16
Resisting His Cinderella Rival, page 16
He forcefully shook his head. “Mari, you won’t have to. I’ll do anything to convince you.”
“Maybe you can start by telling me why.”
Matteo closed his eyes tight, tilted his head upward. “You came along when I least expected it. And you swept me off my feet. I didn’t know how to handle the possibility that you might not be exactly what you are. So I foolishly took the easy way out. It was easier to do that than admit you’d broken through all my defenses.”
Mari could only listen, reminding herself to breathe. In. Out. In. Out.
He continued, “I know it’s no excuse, but I didn’t have the best examples of an authentically loving relationship to serve as a guide. Not growing up. And not as an adult. But I’m hoping you can teach me. There is no one else who can. Or who I want to learn from.”
Maybe she was the foolish one, because she believed him. And heaven help her, she could already feel the fortified walls around her heart beginning to crumble. The scent of him, those dark eyes that had haunted her dreams, feeling his hot breath against her skin. Her resolve began to melt like an ice cube dropped into hot liquid. Try as she might, she didn’t have the strength to resist much longer.
“You’ll spend the rest of our lives making it up to me,” she affirmed, her voice trembling. She would expect nothing less.
He cupped the back of her neck, dropped a gentle kiss against her temple.
“That’s right, mi cara. Starting this very moment.”
As his lips brushed hungrily against hers, she believed him without a doubt.
EPILOGUE
Eighteen months later
She’d been gone for over half an hour already. Matteo peeked another glance at his watch and resumed his pacing. As much as he’d wanted to go with Mari, and as badly as he wanted to haul himself over to the restaurant now, this was something she had to do on her own.
He’d be sure to be there for her afterward.
The sounds of early evening Boston traffic echoed around him. His first time in the city and it didn’t disappoint. A steel drum band played a bouncy rhythmic tune across the square. The archway he waited under was lit up in brilliant lights like the rest of the city in preparation for the upcoming holidays. All in all, a fairly magical scene.
Matteo fingered the velvet box in his pocket yet again, trying to imagine her reaction when he finally presented it. He’d been waiting for just the right moment and thought tonight would be it. But if she took any longer getting back, he might have to rethink his plans.
Just when he’d decided he couldn’t take the waiting any longer and had to go check on her, he saw Mari strolling toward where he stood. Was it his imagination or did her steps seem lighter than they had when she’d walked away to her personal mission almost an hour ago?
“You’re back.” He stated the obvious as she grew closer. By way of an answer, she wordlessly launched herself into his arms. He wrapped her tight in his embrace and waited in silence.
He wasn’t going to ask how things went. She would tell him what she needed to, if she needed to at all. He was merely here for support. And currently, for comfort.
Several beats passed before she finally pulled away with a sniffle. He planted a soft kiss against her lips.
“I got what I came here for,” she stated, nuzzling her face against his chest. Her words were muffled when she spoke again. “A much-needed apology. He seems genuinely remorseful.”
Matteo remained silent. This was her moment to share as much as she wished. “And now I’m done with that part of my life for good,” she announced, pulling away and tilting her head up to look at him.
He lowered his head to kiss her deep and long. When it was over, they were both panting for air.
“On to new beginnings,” she said, her smile wide and full of affection. For him. It still floored him how lucky he was to have found her, that she had forgiven him.
“New beginnings, huh?” he asked.
She nodded once.
“In that case…”
Reaching for the velvet box, Matteo kneeled before her and pulled it out of his pocket. “Please do me the honor of starting the next chapter of your life with me. As my wife.” Popping open the lid, he held it up to her to reveal the sparkling emerald cut stone on a tricolor band made of the finest Italian gold.
Mari’s eyes grew wide and her jaw dropped open. She clasped her hands on her mouth and stood still, simply staring at him. For one insane moment, Matteo thought she might be wavering with her answer, that he’d read everything all wrong these past several months.
Finally, she pulled him up and threw her arms around his neck, a happy giggle reached his ear. Matteo blew out a breath of sheer relief as Mari did a little jump for joy as he held her tight.
“Is that a yes, then?” he asked needlessly.
“Yes, my love! Absolutely and wholeheartedly yes!”
And as several bystanders cheered and clapped for them, under the sparkling lights of the decorated archway, he slipped the equally brilliant ring on her finger.
He could hardly wait for their new beginning together.
* * * * *
If you enjoyed this story, check out these other great reads from Nina Singh
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Their Accidental Marriage Deal
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All available now!
Keep reading for an excerpt from Her Fake Wedding Date in Sicily by Jenny Lane.
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CHAPTER ONE
Mia
Mia Knowles stared at the ornately carved wooden box, perched precariously on her lap, as though it contained the answer to all her problems. In reality, it held the itinerary for her best friend’s wedding of the century at Mia’s family’s resort, the newly renovated La Piccola Barca, on the Sicilian coast. From the welcome dinner that evening, to the endless parade of chartered yachts, beachside activities and lavish nights out on the town, the event was sure to be memorialized in wedding magazines for years to come.
And Mia was going alone.
Which was fine. She had to do this. She wanted to do it. This was, after all, her best friend’s wedding. And she had promises to keep. Promises she and Cate had made to each other when they were twelve years old, running along the beach in front of Mia’s summer house in the Hamptons.
Or the promise she’d made two months ago, when she’d told Cate she was bringing a date to the wedding. When Cate’s sister, Beth, had broken up with Mia six months ago, Cate had been more upset than both of them put together. Having a date had been a small white lie to prove she was over Beth, but months later she still didn’t have someone to bring with her to Sicily.
Much to Mia’s parents’ chagrin, the social media influencer they’d tried to set her up with had quickly lost interest when she realized Mia had no interest in splashing her face in the news anymore.
And then there was yet another promise she’d made to her father before boarding the plane this morning. She was supposed to use this trip to boost her family’s name. La Piccola Barca was their newest resort, and this was an opportunity to revitalize their brand. Mia had lots of ideas on how to improve her family’s image—but her ideas, centered around philanthropy, were not what her father wanted to hear.
Mia was really good at keeping her promises to other people, not so good at keeping the ones she’d made herself. Promises like standing up to her family and asking for what she wanted. So, she’d told her father yes and watched her mother smile in approval.
Mia shoved the memory away. “What have you gotten yourself into now?” she whispered under her breath as she stared at the box.
The box didn’t answer.
The last time Mia was with Cate, they’d both been in thin cotton tank tops, singing karaoke in a private booth while on vacation in Miami. But as she sat in the back seat of the black town car, something told her this week wasn’t going to hold any of those private moments with Cate that she’d always treasured.
And that was because her best friend had gone and fallen in love with Noah Brewer. And when you marry into a multimedia mogul’s family, appearances had to be kept up. Mia suspected that was the reason her parents had offered the use of their newly renovated resort in Sicily to Cate and Noah for their extravagant affair.
“Mia, sweetheart,” her father had said over brunch last month as he sopped up a sunny-side up egg with toast. “This is what we expect from you. Go to the wedding, chat with the guests, remind them that the Knowles family is still here. You know I’d go, but I have the meeting with the board at the end of that week. Can’t miss it.”
Her older brother and sisters would be at the meeting, too. The Knowles children all knew their places, and Mia’s role was catching the eye of the paparazzi and media. When Mia was nineteen, they’d spotted her and Cate partying on spring break and the video went viral. Instead of her father being embarrassed, he had latched onto this angle for keeping the family relevant and smiled approvingly at her for the first time she could remember.
Mia would do anything to see her father smile at her like that again. Smiles he usually reserved for her siblings. So, she would go to the wedding, play her part and build up trust until the time was right. And then she would ask to work on some of their philanthropy projects. But she wouldn’t get caught up in a planned scandal, or get photographed by the paparazzi. She was determined to leave all that behind.
Mia gently set the box next to her and bit the edge of her lip. Think, think, think. She needed a plausible excuse for why she had not brought a date to the wedding. Last-minute work trip? Food poisoning? She couldn’t tell Cate the truth—that she’d lied in a panic. Her best friend didn’t need to spend this week worrying if Mia still had a broken heart. Cate needed to focus on her wedding. On Noah.
“Just one more moment, Miss Knowles. We are almost there.” The chauffeur smiled at her kindly from the rearview mirror. No doubt mistaking her sigh for travel weariness and not the low-level panic creeping up the back of her skull.
As the car slowed, Mia took in the glowing white buildings of La Piccola Barca in the distance. From here, it didn’t look like much, but Mia knew the real view was from the water. La Barca, as it was becoming known, was nestled into the edge of a cliff on the Sicilian coast. Every suite had a view of the sparkling sea, not to mention there was a private beach, luxury spa and five-star cuisine. It was the perfect spot for a Brewer to marry a Richards and get the attention they deserved.
As the car reached the main entrance, her breath caught in her throat. Being here, actually arriving at La Barca, made all of this wedding business real.
Mia took in the expansive lobby and the wide windows open to the sea beyond. It had been years since she’d been on a relaxing vacation. She’d spent the last eight years in school working toward her philanthropic dreams, determined to do something with her status in life. And she knew this wasn’t exactly a vacation, but there was something about this place that felt like an adventure was just waiting to happen.
When the front desk staff let her know the family’s suite wasn’t quite ready, she waved off the apologies before ambling along the gleaming white marbled corridor looking for Cate. The resort wasn’t huge like some of her family’s other resorts—it had a certain sense of charm. And if her memory was correct, her favorite place would be just around the corner.
It was just off to the right—an airy room filled to the ceiling with shelves of books. Their heavy leather spines and art climbed the walls, beckoning Mia to come inside.
She needed to find Cate. There was an itinerary to keep, but surely, she could sit for a minute and catch her breath. She ducked into the room and ran her fingertips along the book edges. The wide windows on the far side of the room were wall-to-wall blue, the ocean staring back at her as if to say What on earth are you doing in there when you could be out here?
Mia was about to leave when she heard the flutter of a book page being turned in someone’s assured fingers. A woman was sitting in a corner. Her back was to Mia; she was facing the sea. She had books and papers and a neat, shiny laptop spread out in front of her as she worked in smooth silence. Watching her work was like watching a synchronized swimmer.
She had warm brown skin and her hair lay down on her shoulders in soft curls. Her suit, which made her legs look a million miles long as it clung to her thick waist and round curves, seemed out of place for a resort by the sea, but somehow it felt right. Mia wanted to take a step closer and see more of this woman.
Mia wasn’t the type to check out strangers. She didn’t have the desire for casual relationships that were doomed to fail before they began. Her relationship had fizzled with Cate’s sister, Beth, last year when they tried—and failed—to do the long-distance thing. At least that’s the reason Beth gave her over FaceTime. The awkward ending had led to even more tension between Mia and Cate’s family. Something she was desperate to repair at this wedding. The last thing she needed was to get all hot and bothered by a hotel guest when she was in Sicily, thousands of miles from home.
The woman clicked at something on the computer and reached for her phone before it even started buzzing. When she answered the phone in French, her tone was clipped and polite. And somewhat familiar.
Her voice grew tense, but not loud. She spoke in an even tone and tapped her pen absently on the paper while she talked. Mia couldn’t help but creep closer as she tried to parse out where she knew that voice from. She grabbed a random book from the shelf and sat in a chair near the windows.
The woman stood and began crossing from one area of the room to the next, careful to keep her voice quiet. She’d abandoned the jacket of her tailored blue suit on the chair. A soft blush camisole with thin straps clung to her shoulders, and Mia wondered where she could find one for herself. This woman was every bit the confident, well-spoken, no-nonsense businesswoman she wished she could be.
A tingle of a memory raced up Mia’s spine. She knew this woman. If only she could remember her name.
The woman let out a low growl into the phone and, with one last word, smashed the end-call button. As soon as the call disconnected, she deflated like a gorgeous hot-air balloon coming down to earth and she draped her arms loosely around the chair.
“Come on, Eliza. Don’t cry.” She closed her eyes and shook her head, as if she was trying to rid herself of the emotion. “Not here. Not now. Just fix this.”
Eliza. Eliza Brewer. As in the new CEO of Brewer Media Enterprises. Cate’s future sister-in-law.
A dozen distinct moments zipped through Mia’s memory. Fundraisers, parties and social engagements where Eliza Brewer was just off to the side, smiling politely next to her father at every event.
Annoyance pricked Mia’s skin with the vivid memory of a few years ago when Eliza had treated her with cool disinterest at a party. And then, just two months ago, she’d helped Mia with a—situation—when she was working a fundraiser. A thrill ran down her spine at the memory of that night.
Part of her wanted to comfort Eliza, who was clearly upset about something. But Eliza Brewer wasn’t the type that would appreciate being comforted.
Eliza turned abruptly and jumped at the site of Mia, clutching a book.
“I don’t speak French,” Mia blurted out as she rose from her chair. Their last encounter had been just as awkward. Remind her how immature and uncultured you are compared to her, Mia. Great.
Eliza cocked her head at Mia in confusion. “What?”
“I promise. I didn’t understand any of it.” Mia gestured helplessly to the phone still clutched in Eliza’s hands.
Eliza’s eyes went wide as she took in Mia. “Don’t worry about it,” Eliza murmured.
Mia was weary from travel; her brain was as rumpled as her travel clothes. But her body still turned to liquid as Eliza’s eyes roamed over her.
“Still, I’m sorry.” Mia’s voice was gentle as she took a step closer.
“No, it was my mistake.” Eliza’s warm eyes went cold, and she hurried to the desk, where she began stacking her papers and placing everything into a large bag. She made eye contact with Mia again and Mia wanted to die right there, the icy stare freezing her in place. “I shouldn’t be having business conversations where someone like you could walk in.”
Eliza
Eliza knew better than to be working somewhere where it could get back to her brother. He made her promise to enjoy Sicily, and his wedding, and not overdo it with work. Her mother had also not so subtly hinted that she would have a wedding date if she just “tried to loosen up a little.” However, since she took over for her father, there was no such thing as out of office.
If she learned one thing from Elijah Brewer growing up, it was that business came first. For the last ten years, Eliza had adopted the same work ethic. The business came before personal hobbies, before friends, before sleep. And, just like her father, it also came before relationships.
Her father had learned that the hard way. Her mother left them when Eliza was only ten. It wasn’t a mistake she was going to make for herself.
So she’d hidden herself away in the spot she thought she’d most likely be left alone. The gorgeous—and blessedly empty—library off the lobby.
She’d only gotten in that morning and despite her suite being spacious, with sweeping views of the ocean and the craggy rocks of the Sicilian coastline, she couldn’t work there. It was too quiet and too closed off. So she’d trudged to this—not so secret—space and prepped for the upcoming merger. Her brother didn’t have to know.
