Abby Green - Claiming His Wedding Night Consequence

While he might once have appreciated the need for a wife who knew how to navigate that world, the thought of a woman like that made something curdle inside him now. As did the idea of growing old amidst the soaring soulless buildings of New York or London.

That might have been where he’d made his fortune, and restored the Santo Domenico pride and name, but standing here on Sicilian land—the land of his ancestors—he knew that the final piece had to be in this place. Nowhere else.

With the evocative scent of the sea and earth all around him, he found that a new vision was coming to life inside him.

A vision of a future that would help him to achieve the kind of success that he’d only dreamed of up to this point. A vision of a future that included a wife who would give his reputation the sheen of respectability he so badly needed. A wife who would give him a family and breathe the life force back into the Santo Domenico name. A wife who would complement him...who knew the value of legacy.

What he needed was as clear to Nico now as the glittering sea in front of him. It was totally audacious, and contrary to his original plan, but it was taking root inside him and would not be dismissed.

After a few more long minutes Nico turned around to face the castello . The only person who had been standing between him and his future—Chiara Caruso—was now the only person who could make sure it happened.

CHAPTER TWO

CHIARA TOOK A sip of the dark golden brandy and winced as it burnt her throat. It was her first time ever taking a drink from the walnut drinks cabinet in the main reception room and she could understand the appeal now, as the alcohol settled in her stomach and radiated a warm, comforting glow.

Her hand still shook, though, and when she heard determined footsteps coming across the stone hall floor beyond the room she put the glass down on a silver tray.

By the time Nicolo Santo Domenico entered the room Chiara’s hands were behind her back and she was as composed as she could be, considering she felt as if she’d just been body-slammed by a ton weight.

He stopped in front of her, too close for comfort.

‘Well? Is that enough proof for you? A graveyard full of my ancestors?’ His voice rang with cold condemnation.

He towered over Chiara and she moved away, across the room, Spiro trotting loyally beside her. She put her hand on the dog’s head, as if he could offer protection or a way out of this madness.

Eventually she said truthfully, ‘I... I don’t know what to say. I had no idea about any of this...’

He lifted a hand. ‘Please. I don’t know why you insist on this charade of ignorance, because it serves no purpose.’ He dropped his hand and his gaze narrowed on her. ‘Unless, of course, your parents warned you that this could happen. That once the castello was vulnerable again the Santo Domenicos might return to stake our claim...’

Chiara shook her head, feeling sick, wondering just how much her parents had known. ‘No, they never said anything. I never heard anything.’

He sounded disgusted now. ‘That’s impossible—unless you were a total recluse.’

Chiara wanted the ground to open up and swallow her whole. His words cut far too close to the bone.

She forced out, ‘Whether or not what you say is true...and I have to admit that the graveyard does support your claim...the castello is out of your reach as much as mine now. Shouldn’t you be talking to the bank instead of me?’

She couldn’t stop the bitter note to her voice, still coming to terms with this news herself, so soon after her parents’ deaths.

Nicolo Santo Domenico looked at her for such a long moment that Chiara almost snapped at him to stop. She felt like a specimen on a laboratory table, never more aware of her drabness next to his glorious vitality. She would bet that he’d travelled all over the world and probably hadn’t been that impressed by it.

And then he said abruptly, ‘I presume if you had a choice you would prefer to retain ownership of the castello ?’

The sharp pang of loss just at the thought of leaving struck Chiara right in her heart. ‘Of course. It’s my home—the only home I’ve ever known. My whole family is buried here.’

Like his . Her conscience pricked.

‘The only thing standing in your way of retaining the castello is a lack of funds.’

Chiara curbed her irritation. ‘I’m aware of that, but unfortunately I don’t have the funds.’ She had nothing.

‘I do have the funds.’

Chiara looked at him trying to ascertain where he was going with this. ‘Is that why you’ve come? To humiliate me on behalf of your family by pointing out that you now have the power to buy the castello ?’

He shook his head, still looking at her with that disconcerting intensity. ‘Nothing so petty as that. What I’m saying is that I could give you the funds to pay off the debt and retain the castello .’

‘Why would you do that?’ He didn’t strike her as remotely charitable. Certainly not to his family’s bitter enemy. He’d been barely civil since he’d arrived.

‘I would do that because if I was to engage with the bank to buy the castello it would be a lengthy and tedious process. The castello needs serious refurbishment, and the sooner this happens, the better. I’ve waited a long time for this opportunity.’

Chiara struggled to try and understand. ‘But how do I fit into this?’

‘Until the bank takes possession you’re still the owner. If you pay off the debt you retain the castello . I am offering you a deal to do that on your behalf.’

She looked at him suspiciously. ‘Why would I agree to that?’

‘Because you’d get to remain at the castello . You wouldn’t have to leave your home. Isn’t that what you want?’

Chiara felt seriously confused now. ‘Yes, but...how on earth would that work?’

His dark eyes seemed to bore all the way through her. ‘It’s very simple, really. You would marry me as soon as possible.’

* * *

Chiara looked at Nicolo Santo Domenico in shock. Eventually she managed to formulate words. ‘Why on earth would you want me to marry you?’

Apart from anything else, she had to be a million miles removed from the type of woman a man like this went out with. She’d pored over glossy magazines for years, lamenting her untameable hair and full figure. Not to mention her zero fashion sense. She knew her limitations.

‘Like I told you, dealing with the bank would be tedious and time-consuming. It would take months—maybe even longer. Through marriage to you the castello will become mine within a much shorter space of time.’

Understanding finally sank in. So that was why he wanted to marry her. He was so arrogant and preposterous she could barely take it in. The thought of even considering any kind of intimate relationship with someone like him was totally ludicrous. And yet... She couldn’t deny the very illicit beat of awareness deep within her. It shamed her. She wanted his disturbing presence gone.

‘I think you’ve said enough. Your proposal—’ She stopped for a second as that word rang in her head. ‘It’s not even a proposal... What you’ve just said is frankly ridiculous. I have no desire to marry a complete stranger—for any reason.’

For a moment he looked at her, and then he turned abruptly and went to the window. Much to her disgust, Chiara couldn’t stop her gaze moving over his broad shoulders, where the material of his jacket moulded to hard muscles.

He turned back to face her and she lifted her gaze guiltily.

‘I should have expected that you would take this as an opportunity to thwart the Santo Domenicos one last time, but you should know that my acquisition of the castello is going to happen—with your help or not.’