He slipped a gold band on her finger, and just like that, it was over.
“You’ll file the license?” Maximo said quietly, shaking the judge’s hand.
“It will all be arranged. As of this moment, you are married.” The judge beamed at her. “Congratulations. Best wishes to you both.”
“Such a beautiful ceremony.” The blonde sniffled. Lucy turned in surprise to see her dabbing her mascara with a tissue. “So romantic.”
But Esmé, the brunette, was staring at Lucy in shock.
“How did you do it?” she whispered. “You’re nothing. Just look at you.” She slowly looked Lucy up and down. “For three years, I’ve been starving myself to be thin. Exercising till I dropped. Spending a fortune on clothes. Following him around the world in hopes of one glance, one kiss.” Her beautifully made-up face was numb. “How did you do it? How did you make him love you?”
Lucy sucked in her breath. Half an hour ago, she’d despised the countess. Now she felt desperately sorry for her. The woman was in love with a man who didn’t deserve it—a playboy who was incapable of love.
Lucy wanted to comfort her, to explain, He doesn’t love me. “Countess—”
But Maximo grabbed her wrist, glowering down at her as if he knew what she’d been about to say.
“Come with me, my bride.”
He pulled her out of the bedroom, and into the party being celebrated in his presidential suite. The loud honking of noisemakers reverberated over cheering in Italian and English.
“The world must believe we are in love,” he ground out in a low voice. “You will tell no one of our arrangement.”
“But she’s in love with you!”
The clinking of crystal glasses intensified as everyone rushed to refill their glasses with champagne.
“You swore to honor and obey. And yet you again attempt to defy me.”
The party guests crowding the rooms of the lavish suite started a drunken countdown to the brand-new year.
“Ten…”
He pulled her close, his intent clear in his smoldering blue eyes. “And now you will pay.”
“Nine…”
As if they were the only two people in the room, Maximo held her in his strong arms.
“Eight…”
“No,” she gasped, trembling at the sensation of his hard body against her own. “Please—”
“Seven…”
Over the raucous noise of the party, he spoke directly into her ear, pressing his rough, scratchy cheek against her own. “You’ve challenged me.”
“Six…”
A group of young men started cheering noisily in Italian.
“Intrigued me.”
“Five…”
An elderly couple toasted each other, smiling tenderly.
Lucy looked up into her husband’s handsome face. “But I don’t—don’t want—”