Maisey Yates - Billionaires - The Hero

A quick conversation with Pasquale Tomei determined they were in luck. He had the ring in his home for safekeeping and could see them late afternoon. Which gave them time to marry first.

They pulled up at the Giarruso minutes later. She kept her head down as Nate put a hand to her back and guided her past curious onlookers through the front doors of the hotel and into the elevators to the penthouse suites. She breathed a sigh of relief as they rode skyward having avoided anyone she knew.

Everything happened in a blur after that. The arrival of the Giarruso butler with the prenuptial agreement Nate’s lawyer had sent along with a bouquet of beautiful white flowers for Mina and two simple, elegant gold bands. She kept her back turned as her colleague offered his congratulations to Nate, then left.

The civil registrar who had miraculously been produced to marry them arrived next. It was a testament to the authority of the stranger who was about to become her husband as every detail fell into rapid-fire place, nothing beyond his control.

Then she was standing by Nate’s side, her groom-to-be now dressed in a dark, expensive-looking suit rather than the jeans and shirt he’d had on when he’d arrived at her home. Insanely handsome.

The registrar began the short, textbook ceremony. Mina recited the words in Italian, Nate in English, words that should have been a sacred affirmation of a love that would last forever conducted in a church with a priest as with the traditions of her own faith.

Nate captured her hand in his as the ceremony came to a close, his dark, fathomless eyes holding hers as he slid the sparkling gold band on her finger. She swallowed hard, took the ring he handed her and slid it onto his elegant, strong hand. A flash of sensual awareness pierced the numbness blanketing her as the heat of his skin bled into hers. Those beautiful hands would be eminently capable of handling a woman.

Devastatingly exciting. Too bad she would never get to find out how exciting.

Her gaze lifted to his, curiosity plastered all over her face. A dark gleam entered his inscrutable gaze, injecting his almost black eyes with a heat that stole her breath.

The registrar indicated Nate could kiss his bride. He lowered his head to hers, his hands resting lightly on her waist to draw her closer. “Just to keep it real,” he murmured in her ear.

He pulled back and set his gaze on her lips. Her heart pounded in her chest as he bent his head and claimed her mouth in a whisper-soft kiss, his hard, sensuous lips settling against the pillowy softness of hers with unerring accuracy. For a moment she remained frozen, neither responding nor rejecting. Nate edged her lips further apart with a light pressure that commanded rather than asked. With a helpless sigh, she relaxed against him, sinking into his warmth as his hand came up to cup her jaw, angling her for his consumption.

It was every bit as good as she’d imagined it would be. She grabbed a handful of his shirt to steady herself, knees weak. She’d been kissed before, surely, by a couple of men, but never like this. Never so expertly, so thoroughly.

Utterly under his spell, a soft sound escaped her throat. The officiant gave a delicate cough. Nate’s hands fell away from her face as he put some distance between them, a flare of something she couldn’t read blazing in his eyes. Disappointment? Desire?

Her heart, already sorely under duress, beat a jagged rhythm. What was she doing? Making out with a playboy like Nate Brunswick—her soon-to-be ex-husband?

Nate turned to thank the registrar, apparently not as gobsmacked by the kiss as she had been. She attempted to gather her composure as he moved with ruthless efficiency to tie up loose ends with the officiant, summoned a bellboy to gather their things and had the car brought around.

When they were ensconced in the back of the sedan again, headed toward the affluent, beachside suburb of Mondello where her solicitor lived, Mina rested her head back against the seat and closed her eyes. Relived that kiss. How her knees had literally melted beneath her.

“Are you okay?”

Deep and velvety soft, Nate’s sinful voice interrupted her recap.

She opened her eyes. “Why did you do that?”

“Do what?”

“The kiss. That kiss.”

Amusement darkened his gaze. “That wasn’t a kiss, Mina. That was a peck on the mouth to satisfy the registrar’s expectations.”

She wondered what a real kiss from him would be like. Unforgettable, she imagined.

“I will concede,” he drawled, his eyes on the hot color flooding her face, “that we have some kind of chemistry, wife. Too bad it’s a marriage in name only.”

She laced her hands together in her lap and glued her eyes to them.

“Surely you’ve kissed Silvio,” he prodded. “Perhaps even bedded him? I looked him up, Mina. He has quite a reputation.”

She lifted her chin. “Silvio has always been a gentleman.”

His brows lifted.

“Well, until that...incidente.”

Nate sat back in the seat, arms crossed over his chest after that, watching her with an enigmatic look. Likely glad he was getting rid of her shortly...

They made the reasonably short trip to her solicitor’s home quickly in the quiet Sunday traffic.

Pasquale Tomei smiled as he opened the door of his Liberty-style villa. His smile faded as his gaze moved over Mina in her wedding dress and then to Nate. “Where is Silvio?”

“She married me, not him,” Nate said matter-of-factly. “True love and all that.”

Pasquale’s eyes widened. Mina pushed a stray chunk of hair out of her face and straightened her spine. “We are in a bit of a hurry, Pasquale. If you could give us the ring, we can be on our way.”

“I’ll need to see the paperwork.” The solicitor waved them into the house. “There are terms I need to explain.”

Terms? Mina frowned as they followed the lawyer down a hallway and into his office. Sitting down beside Nate on the opposite side of the desk, she handed Pasquale their paperwork. He looked it over and handed it back. “This is quite a change in plans. Your mother was very excited about your and Silvio’s union.”

The color drained from her face. “Mina is free to marry whom she chooses,” Nate interceded, a blunt edge to his voice. “So if we could have the ring...”

Pasquale took a box out of the drawer and handed it to Mina. She opened the navy blue velvet jeweler’s box and there it was. The Fountain Ring. A stunning square-cut sapphire of the deepest blue surrounded by diamonds set in a platinum band. A beautiful piece to be sure, but it was its extensive history and the mystery that surrounded the ring’s origins that made it so valuable.

She closed the box and looked at Pasquale. “What were the terms you spoke of?”

The lawyer set forth a sheaf of papers that had been sitting on his desk, moving to a page he had marked with a colored tab. “There is one condition I must make you aware of. You must remain married for one year for me to grant you full title of the ring.”

If there was any color left in her face, it fled now. Nate’s jaw dropped open. “Why?”

“Mina’s father wanted to see her happily married before the ring was made hers.”

Mina shook her head. “That condition was never mentioned to me.”

“I’m sorry,” the lawyer said. “But as you can see, it’s there in black and white.”

She turned to absorb the silent tension in the man beside her. His usual even expression was firmly in place, but in his eyes she could read fury. Barely leashed fury.

He directed a look at the lawyer. “Mina can keep the ring in her possession during this time?”

“Yes.”

“Fine.” Nate closed his fingers around her shoulder as he stood up, propelling her with him. “We should go.”