Free The Marriage Trap by Jennifer Probst

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.”
    Maggie gulped. “Um, maybe I should—”
    Mama Conte wrapped her hand around Maggie’s arm. Her frailty seemed nonexistent. Sheer strength pulsed from those delicate muscles and squeezed like a death trap. “ Niente . You stay with me, Margherita, and help me with dinner.”
    Michael shook his head. “Mama, Maggie does not cook. In the States, most women work and many do not know how to prepare food.”
    That caught Maggie’s attention. Her head whipped around and she glared. “Screw you, Count, I can cook.” She gave a fake simper. “I just pretended not to know how so you’d take me to dinner more often.”
    Mama Conte gave a proud cackle and led her inside, leaving an astonished count in their wake.
    With every step toward the giant, shiny kitchen, a new bead of sweat appeared. Maggie seethed as one thought danced in her brain.
    If she got out of this alive, she’d kill him.
    •   •   •
    Maggie wanted to give in to the urge to run from the house screaming. She hated kitchens. When she was younger, most of the cooks would turn mean when she’d enter their sacred space, until just the sight of that shiny equipment wrung a shudder. Still, she kept her head up and her attitude positive. She was a capable woman and could follow a recipe. Maybe dinner would be something easy and she could show Michael her unbelievable culinary talents and finally shut him up.
    Michael’s mama already had a variety of bowls and measuring cups stacked on the long, wide counter. Various