Page 106 of A Love Most Fatal

He cuts me off with a kiss, one so heady and intense that I want to fall into it. I want to forget every bad thing happeningand forget how helpless I feel, but I force myself to memorize it. I need to remember his thumbs and his palms, his lips that are so unbelievably giving, his eyes that tell me all his secrets. I make myself commit everything about this kiss to memory and then, knowing I will never be satisfied, I pull away.

He looks like I’ve just broken him, and maybe I have. I’ve broken myself.

“I’m marrying him,” I say. Nate squeezes his eyes shut as he grips the back of my neck.

After another excruciating moment of my heart being stomped to a pulp, he pulls back and regains control of himself.

He straightens my necklace, his fingers ghosting over my collarbones and neck once more.

“I know,” he says.

A knock falls on my door and Leo pokes his head into my room.

“He’s here,” Leo says.

I straighten my shoulders again, my spine tired from all the standing tall I’ve been forcing it to do over the last week.

“Thank you, I’ll be right down.”

Leo retreats, leaving the door cracked, and I take a moment to pat my face to make sure my makeup is still good. I swipe a fresh layer of red lipstick on and run a comb through my hair before risking one last glance at Nate and leaving my room.

My future husband awaits.

38

NATE

Three months ago,being at a party with a sea of Mafiosos, each strapped with guns or knives, or guns and knives, would’ve been the recipe for an anxious stomachache. Probably hives, too. I feel sickly now, but not because I’m afraid for my life and the life of my dog (though considering I interviewed half of them, and this party will be proof that I found them wanting, I suppose I should be more afraid one of them is looking to kill me this evening.)

Leo manifests by my side without sound, as is his way, holding two glasses of bubbly. “I’d get you something stronger, but I’m afraid a lot of men here will need it after this,” Leo says. We both laugh, but it’s a mirthless sound.

The way he’s looked at me the last week was nothing short of heartbroken for both me and Vanessa. He wears it all on his sleeve when he’s not being bodyguard supreme.

“Where is she?” I ask.

“Planning a speech with the Russian.” Nice of him not to call Maxim by name when I know he thinks the guy is awesome. Very loyal.

I’ll miss Leo when I’m shipped off to my parents’ house. Will I ever see him or speak to him again?

I notice an older gentleman in a brown suit standing alone, looking less than pleased to be here. It’s the prick with the drawn out project. Mr. McGowan? Last I heard, they were still hammering out his godforsaken contract, but the family probably invited him only because he’s about to line the Morelli’s pockets with a shit ton of money.

“Did the deal close?” I incline my head towards the man. Leo rolls his eyes.

“Wednesday it did. $430 mil. No time to celebrate.”

“Hm.”

We stand together as guests chatter around us. The backyard has been set up beautifully by decorators that swarmed the house this afternoon. Standing lamps and tables on the grass along with fresh flower arrangements. It’s a gorgeous party, with delicious food and drinks, but it makes my stomach turn rememberingwhywe’re here.

Mary walks up to us, slow enough not to draw attention, though still rushing. “Leo,” she says in greeting. “Come inside for a second. Please.”

My instinct is to tag along, which is an urge I need to fight because I’m no longer a member of this team. This is family business, and Vanessa has made it clear that I am not going to be a part of that. The rejection doesn’t sting so much as it aches. Brutally, so.

Leo and Mary head back for the house and I meander over to the old man whose net worth must be absurd.

“Mr. McGowan,” I greet. There’s no recognition behind his eyes, no way he remembers me.

“Thank you, son,” he says, and takes my half-drunk champagne from my hand, having a sip. I pretend this was its intended destination.

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