Wed on His Terms: Million-Dollar Marriage Merger

“You’re teasing.”

“Yeah, I’m teasing.” Then he set the wooden spoon down and stared at her. “I’m not going to apologize for how I live. I’ve earned it. Racing has afforded me a good life. But there were sixteen-hour work days, long lonely times on the road. Times when I had to cook for myself when I longed for a home cooked meal. Eating out is overrated.”

“There must have been plenty of women happy to cook for you. Never mind,” Rena said, catching herself. She didn’t really want to know. “Forget I said that.”

Tony’s expression changed, and he gave her a quick shake of the head. “Your image of me is way off.”

Rena pursed her lips. “It really doesn’t matter.”

Tony grabbed her arms gently as steam rose up from the sauce and bathed them in heat. “Yes, it does matter. I’m your husband. I care what you think of me.”

Rena stared into his eyes, unable to answer. She had mixed emotions when it came to Tony Carlino, but for the most part, she didn’t want to see any good in him. She wanted to keep him a safe distance away in her mind and heart.

When he realized she wouldn’t respond, he let her go and she went about filling a big pot of water for the pasta noodles.

Tony watched her work at the stove for a long while before he spoke again. “What can I do to help?”

Grateful to give him something to do, she barked orders. “Take out the romaine and tomatoes from the refrigerator. I think there’s a cucumber in there, too—and anything else you can find for a salad.”

She heard him going to work, and much to her surprise, he fixed a delicious salad, and, adding black olives and herbs, he made his own olive oil-based dressing.

When she walked over to taste it, she cast him a nod of approval. “Yummy.”

“My mother’s. One of a few recipes I learned from her before she died.”

Tony’s mother died when he was fifteen. Rena hadn’t known her, but she’d heard she was a saint among women. She’d have to be in order to be married to Santo Carlino. Rumor had it she’d kept him in line. When she died, Santo poured himself into building his business taking no prisoners along the way.

“And you remembered it,” Rena said. “It’s funny the things we remember about the ones we love.”

“What do you remember about your mother?” he asked.

Rena smiled wide, recalling her mother’s favorite pastime. “That’s easy. She had a morning and nightly ritual of walking three miles. No matter how tired she was, no matter the weather. She’d get into her walking clothes, put on these beat-up old shoes and go for a walk. She said it cleared the mind, cleansed the soul and kept the weight off.” Rena grinned, confessing. “My mama liked to eat.”

Tony chuckled. “That’s a good way to remember her. Walking, I mean. Not eating.”

“Hmm, yeah.” Rena blinked herself back to reality. Even with all her exercise, her mother still contracted a deadly disease. She’d lingered for years, missing her daily walks and everything else that required a bit of effort. It was a brutal reminder of the unfairness in life.

Once the meal was ready, they sat down to eat at her country oak kitchen table. She wondered what Tony thought about this rustic house. To her it was home, and she wasn’t ashamed of it. Through the years, she’d put personal touches throughout, cheerful curtains, comfy sofas with throw pillows she’d sewn, refinished tables, armoires and cabinets. When she looked around her home, she saw bits and pieces of her parents’ life here as well as her life with David.

Facing Tony at her kitchen table reminded her once again how it had all changed so quickly.

Tony ate up heartily. There would be no salad-only dinners for him. He was a well-built man who enjoyed a good meal. He was halfway through a large dish of pasta when he lifted his head. “I want to see your accounts tomorrow. I hope to get through them by the end of the week. Then I’ll know better how we can get your winery back on track.”

Grateful that he’d taken the first step, Rena discussed with him her conversation she had with the banker. Tony hadn’t even blinked when she told him her financial situation and how much money she owed.

“I’ll take care of it,” he said, without pause. “You’ll make your payroll, and any other debts you have will be dealt with.”

“Thank you.” Humbled by his generosity, she put her head down.

“Rena?” She looked up into his dark eyes. “We’re in this together from now on. You don’t have to worry about the winery.”

“I know. I appreciate everything, really. I just can’t help feeling like a failure. I tried. David tried. We had some bad luck, equipment that needed replacing, problems with distributors and well, the bigger wineries tried to shove us out.”

Tony covered her hand, and the instant spark jolted her. “Carlino Wines being one of them. That’s not going to happen anymore.”

She tried to ignore sensations rippling through her. “The Fairfields have always taken pride in their livelihood. I have a lot of pride. I feel like I let my parents down. I had to remarry to save the business.”

Tony stroked her hand, his fingers caressing hers. It felt good—too good—to pull her hand away. Lord help her, she needed to feel his touch.

“I won’t take offense to that,” he said. “I know I’m the last person on earth you’d want as a husband.”

She watched as his fingers slid over her knuckles so gently. “At one time, I wanted nothing more.”

“And now?”

She gazed deeply into his eyes and lifted a shoulder in confusion. “Now, I don’t know, Tony. I really don’t know. I’m just so tired.”

Tony rose from the table with concern in his eyes. “Go. I’ll take care of this.” He took up their plates and headed toward the dishwasher. “You need to rest. It’s been a long day.”

Rena got up, ready to argue, but Tony had already rinsed their dishes and began loading them into the dishwasher. With his back to her, she noted his broad shoulders tapering down along his back and slim waistline. His slacks fit perfectly over his buttocks, and she recalled the quick flash of excitement she felt when he’d stepped out of the shower yesterday, buck naked. She’d only caught a glimpse, but oh, that image wouldn’t leave her anytime soon.

“I, uh, thanks. I’ll take a quick shower and go to bed. What will you—”

He turned sharply and met her gaze. “I’ll come to bed later, Rena.”

She gave him a clipped nod, turned around and strode out of the room. Her exhaustion catching up with her, she was too tired to think of the implications of sleeping with her new, extremely sexy secret husband.

Seven (#ulink_7be60bda-0851-50d7-a48b-5876c5c115d1)

Rena snuggled deeper into her bed, rebelling against thin rays of dawn creeping into the room. She closed her eyes tighter, rolling away from the light and into familiar warmth. Cocooned in the heat now, she relaxed and let out a stress-relieving sigh.

Her eyelids blessedly shut, she breathed in a pleasing musky scent and smiled. A warm breath brushed her cheek, then another and another. She popped her eyes open. Tony was there, inches from her face, his eyes dark and dusky. He lay stretched out on his side, apparently watching her sleep. “Morning, beautiful.”

Alarm bells rang out in her head. She couldn’t believe she was in bed with Tony. And enjoying it. His warmth surrounded her. She focused on the firm set of his sculpted jaw, then opened her mouth to speak, but Tony placed his finger to her lips, stopping her words. “Shh. Don’t overthink this, Rena.” He wrapped his arms around her waist and drew her closer.

She remembered putting on her most unappealing nightshirt last night, a soft, brushed cotton garment with tiny cap sleeves just in case Tony held true to his word to sleep with her. But Rena liked to feel feminine in bed, so the least suggestive nightgown she owned was still a far cry from head-to-toe flannel.

“Don’t overthink what?”

“This,” he said, moving closer and touching his lips to hers. The heat of his mouth and the intimate contact should have caused her to panic. Yet, she didn’t resist, her body and mind not fully operational at the moment. He pulled away long enough to search her eyes and must have been satisfied with what he saw in them.

Tony knew how to kiss a woman, and he held nothing back with the next kiss. He drew her in with expert finesse, coaxing a reaction from her. His hand on her waist, she felt his strength through the thin cotton fabric of the nightgown. He squeezed her gently, and immediate tingles coursed through her body. She sighed aloud, a throaty little sound that emanated from deep within. Tony moved his hand up, stroking her side slowly up and down, his fingers brushing the underside of her breast.

Oh God, it felt good to have him caress her, teasing her breast until she ached for his touch.

Rena loved the physical act of making love. She loved the intimacy, the joy of having her body succumb to infinite pleasure. Tony had taught her that. He’d taken her virginity and taught her to enjoy sexual intercourse. Of course, back then they’d been so much in love that holding back wasn’t an option. She’d given herself fully to him, surrendering her heart and her body. She’d only been with two men in her life, and each in their own way had taught her about loving a man. Where David had been sweet, patient and dependable, Tony had been irresistible, hot-blooded and sexy.

Tony’s passionate kisses unnerved her. His touch drew her like a magnet. She moved closer, arching toward him, her breaths heavier now. He nibbled on her lips, whispering how beautiful she was, how much he wanted to touch her.