Abby Green - Claiming His Wedding Night Consequence

Chiara felt frustrated. ‘I told you—I had no idea about any of this. Why would I want to thwart you? What happens to the castello once the bank takes possession is out of my control!’

‘Not if you marry me.’

He really was serious .

For a moment Chiara let herself imagine what it might be like not to have to leave the place where she’d just buried her parents and a wave of emotion nearly felled her. But at such a cost!

It was all too much.

Chiara felt Spiro nudge her thigh and she went over to sit down in a chair, afraid her legs wouldn’t keep holding her up.

She looked up at Nicolo Santo Domenico. ‘You can’t possibly mean to marry me. You despise me. My family. And why would I agree to such a union? With a man who has married me solely for the castello ?’

* * *

Faced with Chiara Caruso, back in this room, Nico was more convinced than ever that his plan was a good one. He knew exactly why she should agree to such a union. To give him what he wanted. To repay some of the huge debt her family owed his family. What better wife could he choose for himself than a traditional Sicilian woman? And one who was indebted to him.

‘You owe me. You are the last Caruso, and I am the last Santo Domenico.’

She stood up, agitated. ‘I don’t owe you my life!’

‘My deceased ancestors lying outside in the graveyard have had their lives all but wiped out of history.’

Nico realised that if they married the Caruso name would disappear for ever. It called to the devil inside him. Karma.

Chiara’s hands were clasped in front of her and Nico was aware of her breasts, full and high, moving rapidly under her dress. A spike of arousal went straight to his groin and he had to control his response with an effort that was surprising.

He had to admit that this attraction he felt was unprecedented, and had inspired this audacious plan even though she wasn’t remotely his type. But something about her lush and curvy body called to a very base part of him that seemed biologically programmed to recognise a mate, regardless of what his head might want.

He’d done some research on Chiara Caruso before this meeting and had found no pictures and little or no information. She didn’t appear to have done much at all. Not attended university nor worked.

She was looking at him now with wide, clear green eyes and he felt very warm all of a sudden. It was as if she could see all the way through him and right into his mind. Read his thoughts. It was a very disconcerting sensation for someone who kept his innermost thoughts private.

But it wasn’t disconcerting enough to make him change his mind. He’d come to Sicily to reclaim his family’s legacy and he vowed right now that he wouldn’t be leaving without making this woman his wife. Whatever it took.

He said, ‘What I’m proposing is a marriage of convenience. A business transaction. I will put up the money to pay off the bank and in return you will marry me and sign a contract that gives me sole ownership of the castello . However, through marriage to me, you will have the right to live here for the rest of your life.’

She went pale. ‘Are you totally out of your mind?’

‘Not at all. In case I’m not making myself absolutely clear, I don’t see this marriage as anything more than a business merger and a way to have heirs. Through them, the Santo Domenico name will flourish again after being all but decimated.’

Heirs? Chiara barely registered that as shock reverberated through her body. ‘But me... Why would you want to marry me when you could marry any woman in the world?’

‘Like I said, I have no desire to deal with the bank on this matter. And as I never intend to marry for love—’

‘Why not?’ she interrupted, momentarily distracted enough to want to know if there was some reason for his cold-bloodedness.

Nico’s insides clenched. Because his mother had abandoned him and his father when Nico was just weeks old and left his father a bitter, broken man all his life. Because people used love as a way to manipulate and distract. Nico had almost lost everything he’d built up because he’d fancied himself in love with a woman. Thankfully he’d come to his senses just in time. It was a lesson he’d never forgotten.

He looked at Chiara. ‘Because I don’t believe in it. As for choosing you as my wife... Marriage to you gets me the castello and, on a practical level, you have grown up on this estate. You’re part of it and you know it. I plan to do extensive renovations, and as I have offices in New York, London and Rome it will help to leave the project in the hands of someone who cares about the estate.’

Chiara shook her head as if to try and clear it. ‘You’re talking about a project manager, not a wife. How could you propose to bring heirs... children ...into a loveless marriage like that?’

Something caught his eye behind her and he strode over to a small table and picked up a framed photo of her and her parents. He held it up, his lip curling contemptuously. ‘Are you expecting me to believe you were a blissfully happy family?’

Chiara squirmed inwardly. She and her mother were smiling, but her father had that look of perpetual disappointment on his face.

Hating Nicolo Santo Domenico with a ferocity that shocked her, she went over and took the picture out of his hand, saying, ‘We weren’t perfectly harmonious, but we were happy in our own way.’

Liar, whispered an inner voice.

Chiara put the picture down and moved out of the man’s dangerous proximity.

He said coolly, ‘You’ve just proved my point. There’s no such thing as a harmonious family. Surely it’s better for children to grow up in an environment where they see their parents working as a team, with mutual respect, rather than something as ephemeral as love ?’

‘But how can you say you’d respect me?’

‘I personally have no grudge against you, Chiara, in spite of what you may think. My father and every generation before him grew up despising the Carusos for what they did. They were emotional about it and that’s why they failed to get anywhere. My success came from taking out the emotion.’

He’d cut out emotions long ago. The day he’d found his lover in bed with his best friend.

Nico and his friend had been about to sign a lucrative deal with one of Naples’s biggest entrepreneurs, but his girlfriend had believed his friend to be the one instrumental in the deal and so had seduced him in a bid to feather her nest.

She’d begged forgiveness when she’d realised her mistake, but Nico had cut her out of his life and embraced that cold focus ever since.

Chiara Caruso was not the kind of woman who would arouse disturbing emotions or passions. She was perfect.

He said, ‘As much as I’m restoring the Santo Domenico name to where it belongs, I’m also proposing this for sound business reasons. This region of Sicily has been woefully neglected and is full of potential. My plans go far beyond this estate. I’ve already bought all the neighbouring land. I see you as an asset to this estate, Chiara. You’ll be invested in it and in its success in a way that no other woman could be.’

Chiara looked at the man and realised the extent of his ruthlessness. Even if she didn’t agree to marry him— and of course she wasn’t going to marry him! —she had no doubt he would do everything he’d just said. Including marrying someone for convenience and heirs. All she represented to him was a means to get to his destination faster.

She stood up. ‘I don’t understand why it has to be marriage—you could offer me a deal to buy the castello before the bank gets involved.’