“No! Alexa is my friend, nothing else.”

His denial screamed untruth as he looked away. Her skin flushed, and humiliation made her want to gag and run from the room. No wonder he didn’t want to date her. Her mind wandered over the conversation and found all the remarks he’d dropped along the way regarding Alexa. How wonderful she was. How caring. How smart. He’d even asked how they met, intrigued by her telling of their first encounter on the school bus when they’d gotten into a fight, then became best friends. He’d never been interested in her. This date revolved around gathering information on another woman.

He was in love with Alexa.

She choked back her shame and swore to get out with her pride. “I understand,” she said. Her words were laced with an icy distance. Her fingers didn’t shake as she pushed back her plate and slid out of her chair.

“Maggie, let’s talk about this. Please don’t go with the wrong impression.”

Her chuckle came out a bit brittle. “Don’t be ridiculous, Count. I’m a big girl—I can handle a little rejection. As long as you realize I’ll be keeping an eye on you. Especially around Alexa.”

He gasped, but Maggie saw right through him. “I told you—”

“Bullshit.” She grabbed her Coach purse and slung it over her shoulder. Her eyes narrowed. “See ya, Count.”

He called her name again but she ignored him and left the restaurant.

Maggie turned off the water and grabbed a towel. Even now his rejection hurt, as ridiculous as it sounded. He dragged her to the recurring nightmare of her youth.

Never good enough.

Angry with her thoughts and bad memories, she changed into a pair of jeans, green tank top, and leather sandals. No use going into the past. She controlled her relationships, her sexuality, and her own choices. And she sure as hell would never be sloppy seconds.

Especially not for Michael Conte.

She ran a brush through her damp hair and slicked on a coat of gloss. Then, pushing her disturbing thoughts to the back of her mind, she made her way downstairs to meet her new family.

Maggie stepped out in the back and found everyone gathered around the wrought-iron tables and matching bistro chairs. The alcove was surrounded by a walled garden of vivid blooms—a twist of yellows, bloodreds, and purples all screaming for attention. The sweet scent drifted on the warm breeze and tickled her nostrils. An elaborate fountain with a carved angel trickled water into a pond covered with floating moss. The sun washed over the rough terra-cotta cobblestones. Immediately, Maggie relaxed in the peaceful space. Her fingers itched for her camera in an effort to capture the almost mystical quality of quiet, even when invaded by the loud Italian family chattering at the table.

“Margherita, come join us.” She almost flinched at the sound of the full name, but Michael’s mother made it sound like magic, so she let it go. Rule number one: never criticize the matriarch of the family you just married into.

“Grazie.”

Michael poured her a glass of red wine, then intermingled his fingers with hers and smiled. Her heart hitched, but she smiled back with warmth. His sisters all looked eager to hear all the gory details. Maggie made an executive decision. The faster she spilled the story, the faster they’d move on to Venezia’s wedding.

She sipped her wine. “Would you like to know how we met?”

Michael’s brow shot up with surprise. A clamor of female voices rose in agreement. Maggie hid a smile. This one would be easy.

“My close friend Alexa set us up on a blind date. You see, my best friend is happily married to my brother. When she met Michael at a business dinner, she thought we’d be a perfect match.” Maggie threw a cloying smile at him and caught a warning gleam in his eyes. “The moment we met, he told me I was The One. Usually, I never believe men on the first date, but he courted me and won me over.”

Carina sighed and rested her plump chin in her hands. “That’s so romantic. Almost like Fate.”

“Yes, just like Fate.” Maggie squeezed Michael’s fingers. “We were going to set a wedding date, but when we heard Venezia was also engaged, we decided to elope. I hope you’re not too upset we skipped a full-fledged wedding, but I despise being the center of attention, so we thought this would be best.”

Michael brought her palm up to his mouth and placed a kiss in the center. Her skin tingled. “Si, Maggie is a very private person.”

Michael’s mother’s sharp stare contradicted her frail body. Unease tickled her belly. Anyone who raised four children and led a family business had brilliant instincts, and Maggie made a note to be careful when they were alone together. Knowing there weren’t many things to count on in life, she’d made sure her word was ironclad and never broken. Therefore, the stakes were high for her, too.

“What do you do, Maggie?” Julietta asked. Her long fingers held her wineglass with a delicacy that also belied her serious stare. Maggie remembered she was the head of the business end of La Dolce Famiglia. Polished and refined, Julietta was definitely the rational, down-to-earth sister.

“I’m a photographer. I have a shoot tomorrow in Milan so I’ll be gone most of the day.”

“How wonderful. What do you photograph?” Julietta asked.

“Men. In their underwear.” A silence fell over the table and Maggie shrugged. “It’s designer underwear, of course. I’m shooting Roberto Cavalli tomorrow.”

Venezia burst out laughing. “I love it! Can you get me a discount? Dominick would love a new pair of Cavallis.”

Carina giggled. Mama Conte gave a long-suffering sigh. “Venezia, we do not need to know what Dominick wears under his clothes.” She glowered. “And you should not know, either, until you are married. Capisce?”

“Maggie is a very gifted photographer,” Michael said. “I’m certain she will be broadening her experience, especially with so much to see in Italy.”

Maggie frowned. His almost apologetic statement to his family stung, but she swallowed her outburst with a gulp of Chianti. Just because she didn’t photograph cute puppies and babies did not make her choices less valuable. It was as if he knew that in her gut, she ached for more. Annoyed at her thoughts, she refocused on the conversation.

Venezia chattered as her hands confirmed each statement with dramatic gestures. Maggie pegged her as the emotional drama queen of the family. Still, her chocolate eyes burned bright with fire and enthusiasm, and her lithe body clad in expensive jeans, floral halter top, and Jimmy Choos told her she adored fashion. Michael seemed to disapprove of Venezia’s choice not to work in the family bakery, but her career as an assistant to a well-known stylist seemed to satisfy her creative flair. Maggie couldn’t picture her frosting cupcakes, buying advertising, or doing the bookkeeping.

“We’d like to hold the wedding here on the grounds,” Venezia continued. Her face softened. “Of course, we’ll have it catered with cake from our bakery. September is such a beautiful month.”

Julietta gasped. “That’s three months away!”

Her sister tossed a glare. “I don’t want to wait another minute to start my life with Dominick. Now that Michael is married, we can move ahead with our plans. We’ve already decided on the fifteenth. That’s okay with your schedule, right, Maggie? And of course you’ll be one of my bridesmaids.”

Maggie gulped as the guilt of their lie suddenly hit. She swallowed past it with another sip of wine. “Of course, I’ll clear my schedule.”

Venezia squealed with delight and clasped her hands together. “Wonderful. Oh, and why don’t we shop for our dresses this week?”

Julietta rolled her eyes. “I detest dress shopping.”

“Well, get over it. You’re my maid of honor and if you ruin it by whining I’ll never talk to you again.”

“I could only wish.”

Maggie twisted her diamond ring around her finger as it suddenly burned. She fought the slight panic of the reality of her situation. “Um, I’ll be busy with work, and I know Michael wanted to show me some of the sights while we’re here.” She smiled, but sensed it came out more like a grimace. “Maybe you and your sisters can go this week. If you find something, I’ll give you my size and you can order it. I’m sure I’ll see the dresses when Michael and I come back to visit.”

“Absolutely not.” Venezia’s eyes gleamed with hard resolve. “You are also my sister now, and you must come. Besides, I refuse to put you in something that doesn’t look good. It would ruin my reputation as a stylist.”

Julietta snickered.

“Maggie and I are on our honeymoon, and we need some alone time. Traipsing around dress shopping is not my idea of romance.” He smiled gently at her, and Maggie fought the melty sensation in her tummy.

Carina shot a pleading glance at Maggie. “Oh, please join us,” she said. “We’re a family now, and we missed out on all the excitement of your wedding. It’s only one afternoon.”

The pulsating walls closed in. How could she put on a bridesmaid dress and pretend she’d be in the wedding? Michael opened his mouth and Maggie caught a glimpse of his mother’s face.

Suspicion.

A tiny frown marred her brow. Her discomfort was obvious, and the elderly woman sensed something was up. Which it was. But Maggie made a promise, so she needed to fake it.

She placed her fingers over Michael’s lips to shush him. The soft curves made her ache to feel his mouth once more on hers, plunging deep and demanding everything. “No, Michael, your sisters are right.” She tried to look happy. “I would love to spend an afternoon dress shopping. It’ll be fun.”

His mother leaned back, nodded, and crossed her arms in front of her chest in satisfaction. More chatter buzzed in Maggie’s ears. She made a mental calculation of the hours left before she could collapse into slumber. A quiet dinner, an early night pleading exhaustion, and one day would be down. Tomorrow she’d work all day at the shoot, go file their papers at the consulate, and—what did Julietta say?

“Party?” Maggie asked. The word flashed in neon like a warning sign in her brain. Michael also looked surprised.

Mama Conte rose and settled her cane on the rough stones. “Si. The party tonight, Michael. You did not believe I would miss holding a celebration in my son and new wife’s honor? We must get started on dinner.”

“Is Max coming?” Carina asked in a breathless tone.

“Si, of course he is coming. And your cousins.”

Michael winced, then shot her a reassuring nod. Holy crap, she was drowning, and her fake husband threw her a life preserver with a leak in it. Bridesmaid dresses and now a marriage party. “Mama, we are really not up for a party tonight. We had a long flight, and Maggie has to work in the morning.”

She cut off his protests with a wave of her hand. “Nonsense. It is only a few people to extend their congratulations. It is nothing. Why don’t you pull some wine from our cellar and visit the home bakery site? Bring tiramisu and cannolis, black and white. Julietta will go with you for the ride.”