Page 26 of Good Girl Gone Bad

“Nonsense. He’ll find us. Have you met his father yet?”

Lily cleared her throat. Things were getting out of control fast. “Father? No, I haven’t met his parents.”

“Parents?” Arietta frowned. “You don’t know?”

“What?” The third faux pas in five minutes? Cold sweat broke on her palms, and she used her free hand to smooth it on her dress. “What is it?”

Arietta’s face softened. “His mother died when he was a child.”

“Oh.” Her cheeks burned. In reality, as a fiancée she should have known such basic information about his parents. If only the man weren’t so freaking mysterious. “That’s right. He…could have mentioned it before. How did it happen? I don’t think I recall.”

“She killed herself,” Arietta said.

Lily’s stomach sank to the floor. Her mouth fell open, and she touched her lips, but no sound came out. A wave of shock washed over, and slowly she managed to straighten her shoulders and recompose herself. She’d need a much stiffer drink than champagne to get through the rest of the evening.

…

Where in the hell was she? Marco strode through the crowd, but at each step a family member spotted him, slowing him down.

He didn’t want to be a jerk, but the evening couldn’t have been more complicated. He had gone to talk to his grandmother to deliver the news himself, before everyone noticing Lily’s ring at the party.

Then, once he returned to the room, resolute to show off his tempting fake fiancée, she’d disappeared. When he went downstairs, he surveyed the interior, and a swish of pink caught his attention. Lily stood amongst a lively group made up of his gossip-extraordinaire cousin Arietta and a couple of other people he didn’t recognize, other than… His heart skipped a beat. His father.

Why had they invited Calogero for a weeklong celebration? His blood thrummed so hard in his veins, everyone’s voices fell into the background for a moment. He wasn’t sure if he was more pissed off at seeing Calogero after so many years, or finding him next to Lily, who seemed so comfortable.

“Patricia,” he called to her.

She didn’t answer, instead listening to what Arietta was telling her.

Of course. She wasn’t used to being called that way. He walked around and slid behind her, nudging her elbow with the intimacy of a longtime lover. “Tesoro,” he whispered.

She shivered and turned her head to him. “Marco.”

“Marco. We’ve been talking about you,” Arietta said, with her trademark half smile. “It’s been so long.” She kissed him on both cheeks, Italian style.

“Time has been good to you, Arietta,” he said. He nodded to the other two men in the group, assuming they were friends of his younger cousins.

“Marco,” his father finally said. One of the reasons Marco despised seeing his father, besides the reason he’d shoved into a vault long ago, was that the man looked like a sixty-something version of himself. This time, a more generous amount of gray blended with what was left of Calogero’s brown hair. More creases gathered around his expressive dark eyes, a testimony of time. “We’ve been talking to this charming young woman who claims to be your fiancée.”

“That’s correct,” he said, and held Lily from behind. His hands pressed her waist. Inwardly, he was grateful it gave his fidgety fingers something to do.

“Well, congratulations are in order,” his father said, and Arietta nodded. “Have you seen your grandmother yet?”

“I just did. She can’t wait to meet Patricia.”

Lily smiled. “The feeling is mutual.”

“Now, if you all excuse me, I need a few minutes alone with my fiancée,” he said.

Before anyone could respond, he took her hand in his and guided her to the terrace. The view was arresting, but there were still a few couples talking and gathering. He needed more privacy.

“What’s going on?” she asked him.

He squeezed her hand and picked up the pace, leading her down the stairs to a tree-filled garden. When he’d been little, he played with his cousins in the yard, running and laughing, hiding and seeking. The few happy memories he had of his childhood popped into his mind, but he shook his head. He needed to think clearly, not to reminisce.

He guided her through the bushes until the buzz and music from the party decreased. The full moon illuminated Lily enough for him to see the outline of her face and lips. “What were you thinking?”

She threw her shoulders back, hands perched at her waist. “Excuse me?” The attitude in her voice annoyed him.

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