Finally, Maggie broke the silence. “Signora Conte, I am honored to finally meet you.” Her tone held the highest respect as she met his mother’s gaze head-on. “Your son is an idiot for not telling you about our engagement sooner. I apologize for him.”
His mother nodded. “I accept your apology. Welcome to my family.” His mother kissed Maggie on each cheek, then frowned. “You are too thin. Always too thin these young girls. We shall fix that immediately.” Her head came around sharply. “Girls? Did you not greet your new sister?”
The tension dissolved as his sisters hugged and kissed Maggie. The breath he’d held whooshed out of his mouth and he hugged his mother. The delicacy of her frame contradicted her steely stare. “Hello, Mama.”
“Michael. I am angry with you but will make you pay later.”
He chuckled and ran a finger down her wrinkled cheek. “Mi dispiace. I promise to make it up to you.”
“Si. Come inside and get settled.”
His senses swam with the familiar sights and scents of his home. He took in the sloping terra-cotta roof, wrought-iron balconies, and the elaborate stone pillars flanking the front door. Bright yellow and red surfaces competed with masses of wildflowers in vivid colors. Set atop the peak of a hill, the three-tier home sprawled like a queen over her subjects, boasting more than five acres of grassy fields. The carved-stone pathways led to a private terrace and pool area surrounded by lush gardens and walkways. The Alps shimmered in the distance, their massive white-peaked tips visible from the balcony.
While his sisters buzzed over Maggie’s ring, he made his way through the doors and was assaulted with the smell of garlic, lemon, and basil. Ceramic tile gleamed clean and bright and set off the pine cabinets and heavy table. Massive counters surrounded the space that was covered with fresh herbs, tomatoes, and an array of pots and pans. This was his mother’s domain and heaven on earth when they were first introduced to the sweet lure of pastries and luscious fillings. She’d passed her talent down to each of her children, but none had her expert skill, and they relied mostly on the famous chefs chosen to run their bakery empire. Funny, they all seemed to favor their father’s genes for business, but Mama had never forced them to be someone they weren’t.
The memory of his own dreams teased the fringes of his memory, but he refused to linger on regrets. Not then. Not now.
Not ever.
He glanced over at Maggie. She chatted with his sisters and seemed smugly at ease after her shocking entrance. Obviously, she assumed he’d meekly accept her outrageous actions in gratitude for her agreement to the whole farce.
“Maggie, I need to speak with you for a moment.”
As if she sensed his irritation, she shot him a look and hiked up her brow. He smothered a chuckle.
“Bring your luggage up to your room,” his mama ordered. “I’ve gotten it ready for you. After you settle, we shall meet in the garden for some coffee and snacks.”
“Si.”
He retrieved the luggage from the car, walked back in the house, and motioned for Maggie to follow. She broke away from his sisters and they ascended the stairs toward their bedroom. He dropped the luggage, kicked the door closed with his heel, and faced her.
“A very amusing opening to our week, la mia tigrotta. But I think it’s time you realize who makes the rules here.” He took a step closer and towered over her. “Now.”
Chapter Four
More than six feet of irritated man loomed before her. Though he didn’t touch her, her body stilled as if restrained. His usual relaxed charm disappeared and a dangerous aura crackled in the air. She’d seriously pissed him off. Unfortunately, instead of fear, excitement tingled along her nerve endings. Damn, what would he be like in bed? Naked and muscled and . . . demanding.
Usually, she stayed far away from men who had any dominance or control tendencies, but Michael didn’t scare her. At least, not in a bad way. Her lips parted in an unconscious invitation for him to take it a step further. Onyx eyes sharpened on her mouth and darkened. She ached to know how he tasted. Craved to experience his tongue claiming her mouth, his hips slamming against hers, without forcing her to make the choice.
A beat passed. Another.
The words slipped out of her mouth before she caught them. “What’s the matter, Count? Cat got your tongue?”
He turned away and a stream of colorful curses shot in the air. Her body relaxed from his retreat, but his threat caused a shiver to work down her spine. She ignored the flare of disappointment from a missed opportunity.
“Be careful, cara. Toying with me may be fun, but eventually I will tire and force your hand.”
Maggie snorted. “You sound like those erotic romances I love. But I’m no sub, baby, and you’re not my dom. My gamble paid off. I figured I’d challenge your family from the start so I don’t have to play a role I’m not comfortable with. Eventually they’d realize I’m not a great pleaser or traditional Italian wife.” She grinned. “Your mom’s a pisser.”
“She’s ill, so please be careful.”
“Oh, no, Michael. What’s wrong with her?”
He gave a deep sigh and rubbed his hands over his face. “Besides an arthritic knee, her heart is delicate. She needs to watch her stress and activity, so I intend to humor her this visit.” His brows lowered. “And I hope you will, too.”
“I can play nice for a week.”
“I’ll believe it when I see it,” he murmured. “Be sure you don’t try to deck me when I kiss you.” He looked thoughtful, and Maggie almost gulped with unease. “In fact, perhaps I should kiss you right here. Right now. For practice, of course.”
She hissed like a ticked-off snake. “I can manage not to jump when a man touches me.”
“I’m not convinced.” He stalked over and invaded her personal space. The heat of his skin pulled her in. “One slipup and this charade ends. I can’t afford it. Especially when a simple kiss beforehand may make the difference.”
“I’m real good at faking it.” She tossed him a mocking smile. The delicious scents of musk and man beckoned her to steal a sample. Her heart tripped at the thought of him calling her bluff, which only made her more obnoxious. “No one will ever know I’m not interested in kissing you. No need to put ourselves through a practice run.”
He studied her in silence and she began to relax. “Let’s test the theory, shall we?”
He grasped her shoulders and yanked her forward. She collided with a rock of carved muscle, and her arms came up in automatic protest to push against his chest. When she hit resistance, her fingers gripped the soft material of his T-shirt. His feet straddled hers and kept her off balance. His lips stopped inches from her own.
“Take your hands off of me.” Sweat beaded her brow. Oh, God, what if she melted and looked like an idiot? What if she moaned when those full lips slid over hers? She could not respond. She could not respond. She could not—
“What are you so nervous about?” Humor danced in his eyes. “You’ve done this a million times, remember?”
“I don’t like to be manhandled,” she shot back.
His lip quirked. He lowered his voice to a husky purr that promised her pure bodily pleasure. “Maybe you haven’t had the right man handling you.”