Will cleared his throat loudly behind her. Wincing, she grabbed Nicky’s hand and turned to face him. The inscrutable behemoth linebacker from yesterday was back, looking none too happy that she’d referred to Owen as her baby. “Nicky, this is Will Connelly . . . Owen’s father.” The humiliation of the situation seemed to be choking her, and she struggled with the introduction she’d never envisioned making. “Will, this is Nicky. Father Nicholas DiMarco, Vatican Emissary to the Holy See.”
Nicky dropped her hand to reach for Will’s. She held her breath as Will’s hand seemed to swallow the priest’s more gentle one, nearly crushing it in his grip. “We’re all so glad you’re finally in the picture, Will.”
Julianne tried not to cringe. Years of diplomatic training and that was what came out of Nicky’s mouth? She could feel Will’s stare piercing through her, but she didn’t dare look at him. Fear and shame that Will might say something about that night kept her eyes focused on the fountain in the center of the courtyard. Anywhere but on either man’s face. “I would’ve liked to have been part of the picture much sooner, Father, but your best girl seemed to have other ideas.” The tone of his voice indicated that whatever accord they’d reached a few minutes ago might be slipping away, and Julianne felt helpless to stop it. He had every right to be angry and, once again, guilt churned through her stomach.
Nicky laughed. “Ah, yes, our Julianne is passionate in her stubbornness, isn’t she?” He wrapped an arm around her shoulders as he proceeded to regale Will with a story from their childhood, a time when she refused to reveal where she’d hidden something or other, but Julianne wasn’t listening. Apparently Will wasn’t, either, because she still felt his eyes boring into her.
Hitching a quick breath, Julianne scrambled to figure a way out of this awkward encounter. Her world was completely tilted on its axis. Owen was recovering. Carly hadn’t deserted her and now Nicky was here to lend his support. She should be ecstatic that everything had fallen into place. Instead, she felt light-headed and confused. And Will stood three feet from her like a ticking time bomb ready to explode. She just hoped that when he did, she could contain the damage.
“But all’s well that ends well,” Nicky was saying. “It’s her penchant for drama that makes her a fabulous designer, and her passionate nature will make her a devoted mother, so you needn’t worry. She’ll be a fierce advocate for her son’s well-being.”
If Julianne had eaten anything at all today, Nicky would probably be wearing it on his shoes right now.
“I hope you’ve forgiven her for her lies of omission, Will.”
“We’ve come to an understanding.”
She finally chanced a look at Will. His square jaw stuck out slightly and his eyes were like emeralds, hard as stone and glinting at her.
“In fact,” he went on to say, that glare never leaving her face, “you’re just in time. Since you’re such a good friend of the family, I’m sure you’d like to perform our marriage ceremony.”
Ka boom!
Stunned, Julianne tried to force a protest past the lump in her throat, but all that came out was a gasping sound. Carly and Nicky were both speaking, but she couldn’t make out what they were saying as she struggled to breathe. Married? No way had she agreed to that!
Will’s hand was tapping her back as she choked on her angry rebuttal. She gasped again and Will scooped her up in his arms. He carried her over to a bench, where he sat down with her in his lap, his palm still kneading between her shoulders as he calmly told her to breathe.
Breathe? What she really wanted to do was kick him, only she was too busy choking.
Carly knelt before her, a bottle of water in her hand. “Take small sips. Slowly.”
The water helped to unlock the muscles in Julianne’s throat and enabled her to take several gulping breaths. As her breathing returned to normal, she relaxed into the crook of Will’s arm. He continued to rub her back. The instinct to sink into his caress was overwhelming and Julianne began to wonder if he’d cast some spell over her, just like the night at Chase Jordan’s wedding.
Wedding!
She blinked back the tears that had formed in her eyes while she’d been gasping for air and stiffened her spine. Will’s fingers tightened their grip on her back, as if they sensed she’d returned to full mental capacity.
Slowly, she turned her head and shot a death glare over her shoulder at him. “I’m sorry, I thought you said we were getting married?”
The muscles in his face remained impassive, but triumph briefly flared in his eyes. “I did. And we are. As soon as it can be arranged. It comes under the provision of anything I want, according to our little agreement.”
Julianne’s stomach lurched again and she felt her pulse ricocheting at the base of her neck. This man was infuriating! She dug her elbow to his belly only to be met with the definition of Abs of Steel. The pressure on her back became more firm.
Don’t even think about it, his eyes warned her.
“Jules?”
She looked ahead at Carly. Her friend’s face was full of anguish as she glanced between Julianne and Will. “Is this true? You agreed to this?”
“We were just working out the details before you two arrived,” Will lied. Julianne was too angry to find the words to refute him.
“This is wonderful news! Of course I’ll preside over a ceremony. But you understand, we won’t be able to have it in a church.”
Nicky’s words shook her to the core. She was getting married. To someone she didn’t love. Even worse, to someone who didn’t love her. Yet Nicky sounded . . . happy.
“Julianne, sweetie.” Carly’s voice permeated the storm of emotions fogging up her brain. “Is this what you want?”
“It’s what’s happening.” Will’s tone was final.
“Shut up, Will.” Carly had obviously learned a thing or two being married to a football player because her tone was just as lethal as Will’s. She took one of Julianne’s hands in her own. “I’m talking to Jules.”
Frequently throughout these past two days, Julianne thought her friend had been on Will’s side. But when she’d needed her most, Carly was there. With her. She swallowed to keep the tears at bay, relieved to know she could still count on her friend. But Carly’s question weighed heavy in her heart. It didn’t matter what Julianne wanted; her wants had been sacrificed when she’d committed the egregious sin against Will by trying to deny him his son. The guilt of that offense was eating her alive. Julianne owed Will and apparently, he’d found his pound of flesh. If she was going to agree to this—and she still wasn’t sure she could—she’d do so for the sake of her son, another innocent victim in all of her deceit.
That didn’t mean she was giving in to Will without a fight. Her son’s father might be holding all the cards right now, but she had some ground rules she intended to lay down before any wedding—even a fake one to pacify Will’s enormous ego—took place.
She squeezed Carly’s hand. “I’m good. Would you both mind going to check on Owen while we finish”—she wanted to say negotiating, but she didn’t want Carly to worry—“working out the logistics?”
Carly hesitated a minute before standing and releasing her hand. Nicky stood, too, giving Julianne a gentle squeeze on the shoulder. “This is for the best. You’ll see.” Neither his words nor his gesture pacified her. Instead they left her feeling as if he were placating her. Again.
Julianne attempted to jump off Will’s lap, but he held her there. “Wait until they’ve gone inside before you start spitting nails at me,” he breathed into her ear.