A bachelor's life is a fine breakfast, a flat lunch, and a miserable dinner.

-Francis Bacon

Marco Orsini's POV

"...so what do you think of that brunette over there." She discreetly nodded in the direction of the young woman talking animatedly to a group. "She came from a good family. I think she will be good enough to meet your grandfather's expectations."

I have gone long enough to stop listening to the woman beside me who babbled non-stop to every single eligible woman who might be suitable for my quest. She invited me to a luncheon hosted by a wealthy Italian prince.

Honestly, I am not interested in those women but I kept that information to myself. Ever since the day I kissed her in my grandparent's vineyard, Francesca Marcolini maintained our distance. It's frustrating, all I wanted to do was kiss those sinfully delicious lips but managed to slip away as fast as she could.

"Marco?" Francesca inquired a little irritably. "Are you listening to me, Marco?"

"Of course, my dear." I lied smoothly, giving her a reassuring smile.

"No. You are not."

"How cold," I replied, moving closer to her. As usual, she backs away lighting fast, and avoids my gaze. "Why not loosen up, cara?"

"I can't." She whispered while looking down at the perfectly trim lawn. "The reason why we are here is to find your prospective bride."

"I know." I feel like a predator advancing in her direction. I kept reminding myself to take it easy because this is the first time in months that I kissed her that I can monopolize her again. "But take it easy, mia bella. My grandfather's birthday is still far away."

"But..."

"Signora Marcolini." A voice broke our conversation. I took every ounce of my patience not to throttle the bastard as it turned out he's the host of this party.

"Principe Agostini." Francesca curtsied regally. "Thank you for inviting us to your party."

The prince took Francesca's hand and kissed it. I nearly leap at the old fat prince when his lips linger a little longer to Francesca's delicate hand for my liking. "Are you enjoying the party, my lady?"

"Of course," She answered conversationally. "It's fantastic as well as your home, sir."

The prince had laughed loudly as if Francesca's answer was so witty. "How clever, Signora. I believe I don't believe you introduced me to your date."

"Pardon me for my rudeness, sir. May I present Marco Orsini." She performed the introduction, slipping her hand to my arms. "Marco, this is the respected Prince Vittorio Agostini." I hid my smile. The formidable woman seemed to be also leaning for support when meeting an intimidating person like this one—not that I am intimidated with him.

I am the great Marco Orsini who never bowed to anyone.

"I heard a lot about you, Signore Orsini." The prince offered his hand with a wide-ginned smile on his old face.

"Likewise," I answered. I heard a lot about his womanizing and vices. Like the woman in his arms right now. She's probably half the age of this old prince. The woman wore a show-stopping dress and draped with diamonds it was enough to blind me when it caught with the sunlight.

The prince never failed to show off his wealth with his current mistress.

"Excuse us, will you?" The prince had inquired. "I have other guests to look after."

"Of course, sir," Francesca replied with a grateful smile.

Once the old fat prince and his mistress left us, Francesca scowled at me. "That's rude."

"I, rude?" I repeated, not following why she's suddenly mad at me. "I don't think so."

"Yes, you are." Francesca insisted. "You are rude to our host."

"I don't know what you're talking about, mia bella. I suggest not to accuse me again or you will not like what I will do to you."

Francesca's eyebrow snapped with anger. "What will you do?"

I advanced again to her. "Something like...kissing you?"

The look on her face was priceless.

"...oh, really? That's good news. All right, thank you for telling me. Ciao."

My wife's cheerful voice as she answered a phone call broke into the library. While I continued to read the local newspaper, I couldn't help but wonder who had just called to have my lovely wife beam happily after ending the phone call.

"Oh, Alfonso." My wife had said. "You won't believe you just called and delivered happy news."

"Who was it?" I tried to remain not too interested in the information as I let my gaze remain on the newspaper. "Your spy, I presume."

"Spy?" She asked innocently. "Why would I need a spy? It's Anna."

"Oh? What does she want?" Anna Bellini was probably the best friend of my dear wife and to think that she just called, she probably shared some gossip with Claudia Orsini.

"She told me that she just attended the luncheon prince Vittorio Agostini just threw in his palatial home."

"And..." Oh, come on, mia moglie. I told my wife silently. Can't she see that she's killing me with the suspense?

My wife couldn't contain her tears of joy. What could possibly be the news she heard? "Anna just told me that our dear Marco showed up with a beautiful woman in his arms." Claudia dried her eyes with her handkerchief. What a fine actress that she was. "I knew it. They're perfect for each other."

I lowered the newspaper I've been reading. "Who are you talking about?" I asked my wife in confusion. "Who is perfect for each other?"

The fearsome Claudia Orsini eyed me as if I am plain stupid. "Really, Alfonso? Really? Have you lost your brain somewhere, dear?"

I frowned at the beautiful woman standing in front of me with such a sharp tongue. She's the only person on earth who didn't fear the head of Orsini Industries. "If you could just explain to me who you were talking about, my dear? I think I will understand."

She expelled a heavy breath. "I'm talking about our Marco and his pretty Francesca, you imbecile."

Imbecile. My lovely just called me an imbecile. And I would like to ask her since when did Francesca belong to Marco? I'm sure the lady will have a thing or two to say in that matter.

"How did you know that Marco's date was Francesca?" I asked as I resumed my reading.

"Simple." She answered haughtily as she poured herself a cup of tea. "I asked Anna if there's any chance that the woman with Marco was brunette with pretty hazel eyes."

"And Anna said..."

"Absolutely!" Claudia sipped her favorite tea. "She also told me that our Marco is smitten to the lady."

I hid my smile from the newspaper I've been reading. "Oh, really?"

"Yes." My wife replied, placing the saucer cup on the table and walked toward the window, and stared outside. "All I need to do is set my plan into motion."

Uh-oh. Run, Marco. Run. And when I say run, my dear boy. Run as fast as you can. Because when your nonna catches you there will be a wedding. You and your lady friend will play the central characters.

All I need to do is sit back and watch my wife work her scheme and see what will happen.

The sun here in Italy never shone this bright not until this afternoon.

"Good night, Francesca."

That deep dark sexy voice haunted me all the way from my penthouse. He just dropped me in front of my penthouse building and whispered those sinfully sexy words. Ever since the last kissed that he stole from me in his grandparent's vineyard, I avoided him like plague.

For weeks, I managed to avoid him not until I saw this opportunity to search for his bride again in the luncheon given by the wealthy prince. As usual, his predatory manner kept my guard up.

I don't like the way his eyes gazed at me. It keeps my heart thundering in my chest. It's so disturbing to think that my nemesis can manage to do that.

My mobile phone rang. I picked it up to look at the screen. A smile fitted my lips.

"Tatiana!"

"Sorry to disturbed you Francesca but I am in a dilemma." Tatiana's worried voice sounded on the other line.

"What's the matter, dear?" I asked, as alarm sneak in my spine. "Is it about the twins? Are you okay?"

A laugh escaped Tatiana. "Oh, no. Francesca. We're all fine."

"Thank goodness."

"Francesca, dear?" Tatiana inquired on the other line. "How far can you help your friend in her dilemma?"

"Of course. I will help you with anything Tatiana, just tell me." I told her as I started to change my clothes.

"Really?" A grateful voice sounded on the other line. "Actually, I need a favor. Please meet me tomorrow if you are not busy. Thank you very much in advance, Francesca. You are an angel to me."

When I ended the phone call, why do I have a feeling that I might get into trouble for this favor?