Page 18 of His Fantasy Bride (Things To Do Before You Die)

He was so obtuse. Her palm itched to slap him, which wasn’t really fair. “And then there was the money.”

“The money?” He looked slightly wary now.

“You were giving it all away. What sort of person gives away billions of dollars?”

“It wasn’t mine.” He drank the last of his coffee, placed the cup carefully on the table in front of him and she got the distinct impression he was thinking about his next words carefully. “Is that why you changed your mind? Because I was giving away the money?”

“Of course not. Or not in the way you mean.” At least that was the truth. Christ, she wished it had been that simple. Then she would have just been a gold digger instead of a… She cut off the thought. No point in going there. What she had to do now was resolve the situation.

“Would you have preferred me if I was a money-grubbing billionaire?” he asked, and she could hear the confusion in his tone.

“In a way. It would have shown you have faults. But you weren’t, you were a professor—brilliant as well as gorgeous—and you were giving away all your money, so accept it—you’re a fucking goddam perfect angel.”

He sat back and ran a hand through his already ruffled hair. He hadn’t shaved, and stubble darkened his jawline. It suited him.

She pushed on, “Don’t get me wrong—I like money. But that sort of money isn’t real. No, it was more the fact that you were giving it to a charity. Gorgeous, modest, brilliant, totally fucking altruistic.” She looked away for a moment, then back, and gave another shrug. “And the real bummer is—you expect the other people in your life to be the same.”

“But you are.” He frowned. “Or rather you were.”

She snorted. At least he was honest. And yeah, that was the point.

He frowned. “From the first moment I met you, you were so right for me. We fitted together like we were meant to be. I kept thinking that I had somehow conjured you up.”

“I was pretending. I liked you, and I wanted to be good enough for you, and so I played out a part. But deep down I knew I could never be good enough, never measure up.”

“You make me sound very judgmental.”

“Maybe a little. Or maybe we were both trying to live up to each other. Except with you it really wasn’t an act. It goes bone deep. With me it was all on the surface.” She waved a hand down herself. “Look at me. This is the real me. Sicily was time out from real life. For a little while I believed I could be worthy of you.” Was she laying it on too thick? But really every word she’d said was sort of true.

“Of course you’re worthy of me. More than worthy.”

She ignored the comment and soldiered on—she’d gone over this so many times through the long hours of the night, and she wanted to get through it. “Then the night before the wedding, I took a long look at myself, and I knew I couldn’t keep up the act. That I would betray myself in the end, and you’d look at me and be disappointed and realize you didn’t love me, and then it would be too late and I’d be in too deep.” Inspiration came to her. “And it occurred to me that, really, all my life I’d been acting. And I had to go out there and find the real me.” Shit, this was so corny, even if it was true.

He looked dubious. “And have you found her?”

“Still looking.”

“So the real you has pink hair, a tattoo and a ring through your belly button?”

“Yeah. I think so.” What was she supposed to say—she was a work in progress?

His gaze dropped. “I like it by the way—the belly-button ring.” He sat back. “Were you ever a classical ballerina?”

“For a little while.” She’d trained with a prestigious ballet school up to the age of sixteen, but there was just too much discipline involved. She loved to dance but it wasn’t her whole life. And maybe she’d just been a little afraid of giving her all and still failing.

“And were you taking a hiatus from work?”

She nodded. “I’d cracked a bone in my arm.” She pursed her lips. “Anyway, I hope that’s answered your questions.” When he remained silent, she forced herself to continue. “You’re a great guy, Vito. And I’m sure there’s an equally great woman out there for you. You just have to keep looking.” She jumped to her feet, ready to go.

His eyes narrowed. “No.”

“No?”

“Sit down.”

For a moment she considered ignoring the order, and then she plonked herself back down and stuck out her lower lip.

“My turn,” he said. “I think there’s some truth in what you’re saying. Though I reject the accusation of perfection.”

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