Taming Mariella

by Dara Girard

  “I don’t need his help,” she said through clenched teeth. “Even if I did, I would rather hang on to a broken branch over a fifty-foot cliff or face falling into a sandpit than grab a hand he offered.”

  “You’re just upset.”

  Mariella raised her hands to the ceiling. “I’m furious. I hate him.”

  “Think of your modeling career,” Gen said softly. “Didn’t you have to work with people you didn’t like?”

  “Not often.” She flexed her fingers. “He kept me waiting for over an hour.”

  “But Mariella, you did leave home rather early.”

  “He wasn’t busy. He could have seen me.”

  “Sometimes, Mariella, you have to compromise. I know you’re not used to doing that, but—”

  “This man doesn’t know the meaning of the word. I’m sick of talking about him.” Mariella kicked off her shoes, and went to open her portfolio. She noticed two glasses on the side coffee table. “You’ve had a visitor.”

  Gen suddenly looked shy. “Josh came by.”

  “I see. Don’t let him monopolize your time. You should see other men. You might get attached too easily. It isn’t that way for men.”

  “I want to see Josh.”

  “The Cooper men are sly.”

  “Josh isn’t like Ian.”

  “No, but he falls prey to Ian’s influence. You wouldn’t want your life dominated by the opinions of someone else, would you?” Mariella said.

  “No.” She sighed. “There is no way it will work anyway.”

  “Why not?”

  Gen sent her a glance. “You know. We talked about it. Remember?”

  “Maybe Josh wouldn’t mind,” Mariella said, thinking that having a sister-in-law with Gen’s past would be a stain on Ian’s image in his mind.

  “But Ian would and you just said Josh listens to him. Ian wouldn’t want someone like me married into his family.” She bit her lip. “But if you could persuade him—”

  Mariella widened her eyes and rested a hand on her chest. “Do I look like a magician? I couldn’t persuade that man to do anything.” She waved a dismissive hand. “You wouldn’t want him as a brother-in-law anyway.”

  Gen shook her head as Mariella sat down beside her. “I think you’re making a big mistake. What is six months to a lifetime of success?”

  “I’ve already said no and I couldn’t go back.” She felt some of her anger ebbing as she thought of the possibilities. “He would love to see me grovel and I’ll never give him the satisfaction of seeing me do so.”

  “Well, I guess that’s that.”

  “Yes,” Mariella said with a twinge of regret. She then felt annoyed with herself. She’d done the right thing. Her mother had taught her and her sisters about the important things in life. Being born beautiful had its downsides, her mother had always said, and since Mariella was considered the most beautiful, her mother had taken much effort to indoctrinate her regarding how and when to use her natural given power.

  Men like Ian liked to dominate and she would not be dominated by anyone no matter how much he could help her career. She’d seen what women, especially beautiful ones, had done to succeed. She’d seen models sleeping with flabby, lecherous men in order to secure a contract; marry controlling older men who kept them as prisoners in order to access their fortunes and live well. She, and her youngest sisters, Daniella and Gabriella had known from an early age that they had been blessed with good looks, and their mother had raised them well. Growing up, she remembered the lavish balls, and countless courting, by wealthy men, who wanted her as their showpiece. Unlike her two sisters, who had succumbed to love, she planned on avoiding it at all costs.

  “Remember, Mariella,” her mother had said, shortly before she died, her lyrical island voice now weak, “you are the most beautiful flower in my garden, don’t let just anyone pick you. When the flower is plucked from the branch, at that moment, it begins to die. You have been blessed with incredible beauty, don’t ever give it away. Keep it, and use it to get what you want, but never let it be taken from you.”

  Mariella took a moment to reflect. Unlike her sisters, she had always been given whatever she wanted, but there was something that she knew she lacked. Had the way her mother raised her made her different? Why was it that in spite of having the best dress, the very best of everything, at times she wondered, what would happen to her if her looks failed?

  She’d once caught the way her brother-in-law, Alex, looked at Isabella. Lovely, small Isabella who couldn’t hold a candle to her looks, had a man gazing at her in a way no man had ever looked at Mariella. Briefly a jealous pang had gripped her and then left. Isabella needed a look like that from one man, but Mariella could elicit the admiration and desire of many men. Men who’d wanted to own her, but never would.

  Men still ruled society, but no one would rule over her.

  “Mom, will you stop worrying?” Josh said that evening, trying to soothe Shirley, who’d called him in hysterics.

  “How can I help it?” she wailed.

  “I’m sure he was kidding.”

  “I wouldn’t be in this state if I knew he was kidding. You know Ian. To think he would consider linking up with that woman.”

  “I’ll handle it.”

  “How?”

  “You’ll see.” Josh hung up the phone and stared at his father’s papers. He’d been shifting through them over the last week. “I bet you think this is funny. I’d probably laugh if it were happening to someone else.” But he knew that handling Mariella was no laughing matter. She had her addictive charms and he’d built up his immunity by watching her around his father, but obviously Ian hadn’t had that opportunity.

  She was a Venus flytrap. He needed to give his brother some protection. He searched through the papers hoping for some damaging proof that his father and Mariella had been more than friends. He didn’t care what she claimed, the will was proof that there was something more, he just had to find it. “Come on, Dad. I know you have something.” At that moment he saw something and smiled. “Eureka!”

  However, he wasn’t in the same high spirits early that Thursday morning.

  Josh hated meetings. What he hated more were meetings with his brother. What he hated more than that were meetings with his brother when someone didn’t show up. Josh knew better than to look around the conference room at the others, who tried not to squirm in their seats, in the silence with the ominous ticking clock in the background. He didn’t glance at the clock or his brother; instead, he pretended to type on his laptop. He resisted the urge to say “I told you so,” because he had. He had warned Ian not to be overconfident when it came to Mariella.

  “She’ll show up,” Ian confidently told him only two days before in his office.

  “But Mom said she stormed out of your office and you’ve admitted that she didn’t sign anything,” he said, hoping to force his brother to see reason. He wasn’t sure when to tell him about the evidence he’d found against her. He’d use it as Plan B if his brother refused.

  “She was just upset.” Ian stroked the top of Sylvester’s head. “Once she’s thought things over she’ll come back.”

  “No,” Josh said, grimly staring at Ian’s smug companion. “She won’t.”

  Ian clasped his hands together. Sylvester looked at both of them with hope, that maybe they’d acknowledge him and give him his afternoon treat, but when they didn’t he rested his head back down on his crossed paws, resigned. “She stormed out of my office once and returned. She knows how much this contract means to her career. Trust me, she’ll come.”

  “Look, she can’t ruin this for us. Did you tell her everything?”

  “No.”

  “Should I?”

  “No. The less she knows the better. Don’t worry. She’ll come.”

  But she hadn’t come and Josh knew she wouldn’t.

  “Where does she live?” Ian asked, his low voice piercing the quiet of the room.

  Josh hit a key on his l
aptop, his mind racing for the right words to calm his brother’s anger. “I think we need to use a different tactic with her.”

  Ian rested his palm on the table. “Where does she live?” he repeated in the same low voice, which could be both frightening and soothing at the same time.

  “Perhaps you should buy her something or take her out to dinner. I can think of a few great places.”

  Ian slowly stood. “Josh.” He walked over to his brother, closed the laptop and shot him a glance. “Where does she live?”

  Josh gave him the address.

  Ian looked at the rest of the group. “This meeting is over.”

  Everyone hastily gathered their things and scurried out of the room.

  “I told you she would be difficult,” Josh said, following his brother out of the conference room. “You can’t—”

  “I can handle her.”

  “She could destroy this project.”

  Ian spun around. “Are you suggesting that she’s more powerful than I am?” he said, a deadly edge hardening his tone.

  Josh halted then shook his head, realizing his blunder. “No, I didn’t mean that. I just—”

  “Then stop worrying. I underestimated her pride.”

  “You underestimated her.”

  “Relax. She’ll show up next time.”

  “You haven’t even gotten her to sign the contract.”

  “She’ll sign it.”

  Josh followed Ian to the elevators. “Don’t fall for her ploy. You even had Mom afraid that you were interested in Mariella. You know…as a woman,” he said as though the idea was preposterous. “Fortunately, I know that you’re not. I know that it’s just a strategy.”

  Ian pushed the Down button.

  “It is just a strategy, isn’t it?” he said, now unsure.

  “No,” Ian said softly, staring at the elevator doors. “It’s not.”

  “What?” Josh jumped in front of him and waved his hands in his face. “Are you out of your mind?” Ian moved to the side and pushed the button again. “She’s dangerous, not to mention she was Dad’s lover.”

  “She said that she wasn’t.”

  “She might say it, but—”

  “But what?” Ian challenged. “You think she’s lying?”

  “Dad never had just female friends. I saw how he looked at her.”

  “So?”

  “I saw how she looked at him.”

  “Yes?”

  “And I found pictures.”

  Ian paused, then said, “How convenient.”

  “You don’t believe me?”

  “I believe you found pictures, but they’re probably doctored.”

  Josh pulled out the pictures determined to prove his brother wrong. “That’s not doctored.”

  Ian looked down at the series of photographs of Mariella in intimate lingerie in Jeremiah’s bedroom.

  “That’s evidence,” Josh said tapping one very convincing picture. “Don’t get involved with her. I want this project to work.” He shook his head. “No, I want this project to end, but first we have to get it started.” He sighed. “I know we haven’t always seen eye-to-eye, but trust me on this. I know Mariella more than you do. She’s manipulative, vain and spoiled. The behavior she displayed today by not arriving, is just the tip of the iceberg.”

  The elevator doors opened and Ian stepped inside then turned to Josh. “That’s fine,” he said. “because I know how ice melts.”

  Chapter 6

  Mariella didn’t like mornings. Especially mornings when she woke up to the sound of someone pounding on her front door. She knew it couldn’t be Gen, she had her own key, and besides, she had left early that morning to attend an appointment at the unearthly hour of 8:00 a.m.! The pounding continued. Mariella slowly grabbed her pink silk robe, removed her headscarf, slipped on her fur-lined slippers and walked toward the front door. Too irritated to look through the peep-hole, she opened the door with a force strong enough to knock someone over.

  “What is it?” she demanded.

  Ian stood there with his arms folded. “You lied to me.”

  She hardly heard the words. They were spoken so softly they could have been a whisper, but the hard edge to his tone made that distinction impossible. She’d seen him annoyed, playful, even smug, but never angry. He looked dangerous angry. Her dark puma looked ready to rip her to shreds. A knot formed in her stomach, but she refused to be afraid. “About what?” She tied the sash of her robe and saw his gaze dip to her figure with deliberate appraisal as though he’d reached out and stroked her. But the appraisal was quick and his heated gaze soon returned to her face.

  “You lied about your relationship with my father.”

  Her fingers continued to fumble with the sash. “No, I didn’t.”

  “Then what are these?” He held up the pictures.

  She took them and flipped through them, pretending they meant nothing to her even though each one felt like a gunshot to the chest. “None of your business. Goodbye.” She went to close the door.

  Ian put his foot strategically in between, stopping her with such speed and fierceness that for a moment a shiver of fear crept up her spine. “Don’t toy with me, Duvall.”

  “If you want to come in just say so,” she said with an air of flippancy she hoped would defuse his anger. Mariella turned away unable to meet the heat of his gaze and tossed the pictures on the table as though they didn’t matter to her. “Why should you care about these?”

  “You know why.”

  She turned and studied him. “Yes,” she said, drawing out the word. “I do, but somehow I thought you would be different. Silly me.” She folded her arms. “So you’re jealous. What do you expect me to do about that?”

  “I expect you to explain.”

  “No.”

  “Right,” he said with contempt. “Because there is nothing to explain.”

  Her arms fell to her side as anger heated her words. “Let me tell you something, I didn’t lie. I don’t lie and I’m not going to explain those pictures to you or anyone because I don’t have to.” She pointed a finger at him. “But let me tell you one thing. Your father didn’t own me and neither do you. Now I want you to leave.”

  Ian walked over to the table and opened his briefcase. He pulled out the contract and held it out to her. “I will after you sign these.”

  Mariella looked at the papers as though they were rotted fish. “I thought I made myself clear—”

  “I don’t care how you feel about me. This isn’t about me. This is what Dad wanted.” He raised a brow. “Doesn’t that matter to you?”

  “That’s emotional blackmail.”

  “That’s business. You can look it over.” He rested the contract down and opened it to the third page showing the generous compensation.

  She closed it. “I’m not that broke.”

  “So there’s nothing I can do to convince you?”

  She tapped her chin thoughtfully. “Have you ever considered jumping off a cliff?”

  “I’ve done it. Three times. I took a course on gliding. You should try it.” His mouth pulled into the hint of a smile. “I wouldn’t mind being there to give you a nice push.”

  She glanced at the contract. “So who are you going to use now?”

  “No one. The project won’t get done.”

  “What?”

  “That’s what Dad said.” He placed the contract in his briefcase and averted his gaze. “Either you finish it for him or it’s left incomplete. For some strange reason he thought you would be honored to finish his last gift to the world. He’d hoped—”

  “Please don’t speak for your father, you didn’t even know him.”

  Ian did not look up. He became so still that the air seemed to thin and Mariella thought she would stop breathing, but she managed to hold her ground determined to fight him. Got you, she thought. He would never have the benefit of victory over her. She sat on the table and glanced down at the papers in his briefcase.

&nbs
p; “I knew Jeremiah,” she said. “I loved him. I loved his work and I loved the gifts his photographs gave. He never told me about this project and wanting me to do it. I’m sure he would have mentioned it to me. We were very close. And not in the way you and everyone else thinks.”

  “So now you know what I think?”

  Mariella ignored his comment. “I bet you made this story up because you want to use me, or get back at me for—”

  His eyes caught and held hers. “Don’t flatter yourself, Duvall. You may think you knew my father, but I can assure you there’s a lot about him you don’t know. He was good at making people think they were close when they weren’t. He mentored you and did a satisfactory job, but you’ve still got a long way to go before you could consider yourself among the best.

  “However, his will didn’t ask for my opinion, nor was I given an option to hire the best. I like to work with professionals, not someone who might expect preferential treatment. There are thousands of excellent photographers who would like an opportunity like this, but you’re willing to throw it all away because I won’t bend over like the rest. And you talk about love, but I don’t think you loved my father one bit, otherwise it wouldn’t be so easy to walk away from a project like this.”

  “You don’t know anything.”

  “I know that if he’d asked me—” He stopped and snapped his briefcase shut.

  Suddenly she saw how the situation looked to him, how painful it would be to have your father choose someone else to fulfill his last request. “He was probably afraid to ask you,” she said softly.

  Ian shook his head. “My father wasn’t afraid of anything.”

  “He was afraid of being forgotten.”

  “You wouldn’t let that happen.”

  She held out her hand. “Give me the contract.” He did and Mariella scanned it, asked a few pertinent questions then signed. When she glanced up she saw the satisfied look on Ian’s face. A realization struck her. “Why you,” she sputtered. “It was all an act.”

  “No, not all of it.”

  “I actually thought you had a heart.”

  “Be careful not to make that mistake again.”