The Marriage Mistake(75)

The betrayal in his friend’s eyes cut deeper than any knife wound. “How dare you speak to me like this? I trusted you to protect my sister, and you used her. You married her without love and mocked our friendship.” His hand shook as Michael stabbed a finger through the air. “You broke my heart.”

The scene from The Godfather flashed before his eyes, and suddenly Max knew what Fredo felt like. Merda, what a mess. He looked his friend dead in the eye and took the heat. He had no choice. He realized his core need to protect Carina from harm and finally stand up for her. “I’m sorry, Michael. I never meant to hurt you. But this is our business, not yours.”

“I was ready to give you a permanent part of the company! Make you partner. This is how you show your loyalty and respect for my family?”

Max shoved down his temper and tried to remain calm. “It’s my family, too. Carina is now my wife.”

“I do not know if we can work together any longer, Maximus. Not like this. And not without trust.”

The dream of partnership exploded like fireworks, and broken pieces flew around him like charred paper. Maybe if he explained more of the situation Michael would finally understand. They could talk together about options and—

No.

Just last night he’d thrust between those silky thighs and held her through the night. She’d pushed him toward anger, passion, laughter, and comforted him when he spoke about his father. She made him feel alive and whole. He loved eating long dinners, talking about work, and watching her with his dog. Damned if he’d betray what fragile trust they had by selling her out for a contract. Her brother no longer owned rights to her life.

Or his.

Max let out a humorless laugh. The realization he didn’t care about the partnership anymore rattled his composure. “I don’t care.”

“Scusi?”

“If you can no longer work with me, I understand. Carina means more.”

Michael narrowed his gaze. “What are you saying?”

“Don’t give me the partnership. Fire me. Doesn’t matter. But make sure you stay out of Carina’s life and let her make her own decisions—including what happens with our marriage.”

He left the room and his harsh words without a backward glance. The hell with it. He was tired of lying and making excuses for his crappy behavior.

He’d done enough of that to last his whole life.





Chapter Thirteen




She’d slept with Max.

Again.

Carina drove home from her shift at BookCrazy, tapping her fingers absently on the steering wheel while she tried to make sense of the situation. She resented his false, half-assed proposal under pressure from her mother. But the arousal in his eyes caused her brain to ooze from her head until there was nothing left but surrender. His body never lied. Why shouldn’t she enjoy that aspect of their relationship? They were married, for God’s sake.

The inner whisper screamed the truth.

Because she was still in love with him.

Always had been. Always would be. Like a cross heavy on her back, she never got over her feelings for Max. Bringing in sex complicated things. She’d be less able to keep her barriers up and be the strong, controlled woman she so desperately needed to be.

Curiously, in all other aspects of her life she felt . . . different. Stronger. Leaving La Dolce Maggie had been difficult. She bet Michael still believed he could encourage her to return, and Julietta placed an urgent call trying to change her mind. The conversations only confirmed she’d made the right decision. Her painting grew by leaps and bounds, and her class finally confirmed she needed to break through her barriers and paint what her soul screamed for. The erotic photos on Sawyer’s wall had called out to her, and the images being coaxed from her brush made her squirm with both embarrassment and pride. Who would’ve thought she’d been a woman to burn for a dominant lover, and an artist who loved erotica?

Even her job at the bookstore soothed something within her. She finally found a perfect blend of business and creativity by working around books, and enjoyed using her accounting skills to help Alexa.

If only her marriage hadn’t started under false pretenses, everything would’ve been perfect.

Was she crazy to stay? Why didn’t she just pack her bags and move out? The slow torture of being around him and not getting what she needed was brutal. The hell with it. She was leaving. Moving on. She’d play lots of angry-woman music and go a bit nutty and clear her past with one huge leap into the beyond.

Liar.

The inner voice cackled with merriment. She wasn’t ready yet. A tiny glimmer of hope kept her rooted to the house and his life. Wasn’t that what she heard kept torture victims alive for years? The hope of escape and rescue. Yeah, her own beaten soul wasn’t ready to give up the dream of the man she loved. The thought of never seeing his beloved face again made the action impossible.#p#分页标题#e#