THE BRIDE - By Shaxee
I hope tonight’s event would be successful; I hope we’ll acquire enough money for the orphans in the home…
“Congratulations, Francesca.” An-all-too- familiar male voice drawled behind me, so much for my luck tonight. I should have known that he was coming to this event. “I’m proud of you.”
So what choice do I have but to face him? I placed a regal smile on my face as I looked at my nemesis. “Buonasera, Signore.”
Satisfaction flashed in the depth of his dark eyes, as if he knew that he was the last person I wanted to talk with tonight. But then again, he would never let the opportunity pass to ruin my night. I knew it based on experience in the past.
“How are you,mia regina di ghiaccio?” He asked, running his bold gaze appreciatively over my body. I silently screamed at his audacious stare and his gut for calling me his ice queen. “You look…fabulous.”
I could have sworn that he was mentally undressing me right this moment, then I happened to notice the venomous glare the blond woman in his arms was shooting at me. I think she’s a supermodel with that red show-stopping gown and those chandelier earrings and necklace; so studded with diamonds it was enough to blind me when they were caught in the lights.
I smiled kindly at her as I asked this womanizing devil the question that would put him in the hot seat. “Is she your bride-to- be?” I asked with saccharine sweetness. “How rude of you not to introduce us.”
The blond supermodel’s face broke into a million-dollar smile as she gazed adoringly at her date while the devil merely paled. Serves you right, I thought silently as I hide my smile.
“Darling,” He said to his beautiful date. “I thought I saw your friends there awhile ago. Why don’t you join them for awhile?”
“But—”
“I will join you later.” He said resolutely, at which the woman in his arms reluctantly removed her hand on his arm and drifted away to where her friends were located. Once she was out of sight Marco Orsini glared at me impertinently.
“Now, Francesca, that was rude.”
“I, rude?” I scoffed.
“Yes. You are.” He answered conceitedly. “You gave her wrong ideas.”
“But I thought she’s your fiancée.” I told him innocently though I only said that to annoy him. “You arrived with her so I assume…”
“Why would I still send you flowers and gift to your office this past week asking for your help if I had already found my bride-to-be that nonno would approve?”
Oh, yes. Those flowers and gifts he constantly sent to my office along with cards asking to help him with his dilemma. At first, my secretary thought that I had a suitor but then I explained to her that my nemesis was just trying to annoy me.
I instinctively rubbed my wedding ring. I will never marry again. Lorenzo, my husband, would forever be in my heart. “Have you heard that Lucca and Tatiana are already in town?” I asked to change the subject about marriage and my thoughts from my husband’s memory. It still saddened me every time I remember him.
A smile twitched on his sinful lips as he helped himself to two flutes of champagne from the passing waiter.
“Really? Are they staying for good now?”
“That’s what Tatiana told me when I talked to her over the phone last time.” I replied casually, taking his offered champagne.
“If they are already in town then why the hell aren’t they here?” He asked, looking around the glittering crowd.
“I assumed the great duke wouldn’t let the opportunity pass in showing the society that his wife is already five months pregnant with their twins.”
Taking a sip of my champagne, I told him: “He just phoned awhile ago telling me they couldn’t come because Tatiana is not feeling well.”
“Ah, that’s the problem, isn’t it?” He inquired, mockery flashing in his dark eyes. “He’s totally fallen for his lovely wife? He can’t bear to be away from her even for one night.”
“That scornful comment really just came from a man who’s currently looking for his own bride.”
“There’s a difference, cara mia.” He said with a rakish smile on his Roman god face. “He married his Tatiana out of love while I need to get married or I will be disinherited.”
I raised my eyebrows at him. “You are forgetting, Signore, that Lucca and Tatiana started their marriage as a convenience, look at them now they are so in love with each other.”
“No one forced the duke to marry that Russian heiress…” He opposed, giving me the same tilt of his strong eyebrows. “…he did it all by himself. Lucca wedded the woman the whole world thought died on the sea a week after she’d gone missing…”
Every time I remembered how my friends started their marriage I still couldn’t believe it. It was like a story from a movie or drama series. All the wallflower ever wanted in life was to avenge on the people who played her for a fool. But now I’m so glad that Tatiana finally let go of her revenge and started a new life with her husband.
“…while I need a wife because my grandfather is forcing me to take one. So you have to help me.”
Marco Orsini dragged me out of my reverie. I sighed. So much for our talk about our common friends, we were once again back to this thing.
“I’ve told you a million times now, I can’t help you find your bride, Signore.”
“Oh, you will.” He said stubbornly.
I shook my head in resignation. Answering him was only futile. He wasn’t going to listen to me.
Then he surprised me when he spoke again in a nonchalant tone. “Such a pity that Lucca couldn’t attend this charity ball, I know he’s a strong supporter of these things.”
Now that he mentioned it, I felt somehow poignant about it. His donation would have being a great help to the tonight’s cause. “Yes, you’re right.” I agreed with this annoying man as I frowned at him. “But now that you mention it, I’m surprised to see you here; this is not your usual crowd.”
“You wound me, Francesca.” He grinned devilishly. “I’m a strong supporter of charities, my dear.”
I couldn’t help but smile at that.
“Truthfully?”
“Of course.” He raised his glass in a silent salute in my direction before drinking every last content of his champagne glass. There was something so mischievous in his dark eyes that my instinct told me to raise my guard even higher as the glee in my heart for Marco Orsini’s donation instantly vanished.
“Of course…” He said again, placing his empty flute of champagne on the passing waiter to get a new one; awareness sneaked up my spine. “…I will donate a generous amount if you will help me in return, Francesca.”
“What the…” I glared at him.
The devil merely shrugged. “A fair trade, wouldn’t you say?”
“Are you saying that…?”
“Obviously.” He smiled adoringly in my direction like Lucifer who wants to claim my soul. “If you promise to help me find a bride I will contribute a generous amount into this charity.”
Sweet Lord, he’s really heartless.
Marco Orsini’s POV
Coming here to the charity event was only a last minute decision when I learned that the ice queen was coming. Looking at her now among the bejeweled crowd, she was probably the only woman who was unadorned with jewelries save her gold wedding ring and her equally gold wristwatch. She looked so untouchable like the ice queen that she was with her demure gown that any red-blooded man couldn’t help but mentally peel that cover off her body as I do right this moment.
I watch with satisfaction the shock on the pretty young widow’s face as I told her that I would not donate a single centavo in this charity ball if she didn’t help me with my quest.
The look she’d been sending me was enough to freeze the entire Italy. Why she’s so stubborn in not helping man with his quandary? It is not enough that I’ve been courting her favor over the last few days sending gifts to her office to soften her up for me?
Then she cold-heartedly asked awhile ago if my date was the bride-to-be I’ve been forced to seek. She gave, Rebecca Kendrick, the hot supermodel the wrong ideas. From the amused look she’d given me awhile ago, she now thought that I’ll pop the question anytime after this party. I should have gotten rid of her tonight.
I don’t think my old-fashioned nonno would approve that my bride was seen half-naked on billboards and magazines across the globe. That’s right. It’s up to this icy woman to find me a bride that my grandfather would approve. She’s a teacher of fine etiquette, isn’t she?
She can teach my bride how to act properly in the society. She’d done a pretty good job in polishing Lucca’s bride several months ago. The once wallflower heiress was now every inch a refined duchess Lucca Cavelli could be proud of. That’s why one way or the other I need Francesca Marcolini for the job even if I have to blackmail her into submission, so be it!
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