The Bride’s Proposition

by Day Leclaire

  "Don't you understand?" she protested. "I have no choice."

  "Sure you do." How could such a smart woman be so dense? "You have the option of finding a man you can love. Of pursuing a real marriage. Do things the old-fashioned way."

  "It wouldn't work. All the men I know expect to marry Penelope Wentworth."

  He lifted an eyebrow at that. "And they wouldn't be?"

  She faced him with a defiance that transfigured her.

  Gone was the cool, rational businesswoman who'd invaded his office. In her place stood a beacon of flame, fierce and emotional and more desirable than he'd have thought possible. "They want the corporation. Not the individual. They want high finance and business dinners and dealing with the movers and shakers."

  "They want Penelope, instead of Nellie. Is that it?" She stared at him with something akin to shock.

  "Yes," she whispered. "That's exactly what I mean."

  Stefano didn't say a word. To admit he wanted Nellie more than Penelope would give her false hopes. He had no intention of marrying her or anyone else. "Don't do it, cara. Don't go to Cornell."

  He thought he'd gotten through to her. But at the last instant, she shook her head. "I need to marry. And I need to do it sooner rather than later."

  With that, she turned and disappeared into the crowd.

  Stefano let her go. After all...

  She wasn't his to stop.

  Penelope walked briskly across the ballroom, as though she had a specific destination in mind. Not that she did, other than to put as much distance between herself and Stefano. She'd definitely take him off her list of prosspective bridegrooms. He was all wrong. Too controlling. Too demanding. Too insightful. She shivered. Too passionately Italian. It would be illogical to choose him over a more amenable sort of man.

  If only she didn't find him so darned attractive.

  "Penelope?" She turned to discover her uncle beside her. He acknowledged her distracted expression with a curious look. "I've been looking for you."

  "Sorry, Uncle Loren." She linked arms with him. "I had people to see."

  "You never let a business opportunity slip by, do you?" he asked fondly.

  She gave his arm a gentle squeeze. "I learned from the best."

  "Who was that man I saw you talking to? A potential client?"

  "His name's Stefano Salvatore. We met recently."

  Since prevarication wasn't part of her nature and never would be, she added, "To be honest, he's not a client."

  "He's a ... friend? You were having a rather heated discussion with him. Was there a problem?"

  "We were talking about Janus Corporation."

  Loren nodded, relaxing ever so slightly. "Ah, yes. That's where I recall the name. The Salvatores have been interested in acquiring that particular business for some time now. I also have a vague memory of a scandal involving one of them. Or do I have that wrong?"

  "Unfounded rumors." She dismissed the accusation as though it were of no consequence. "It's all an unfortunate misunderstanding. I believe I'll step in and sort it out, if you don't mind."

  "It's none of our affair."

  "No doubt. However, I believe I'll make it our affair."

  An unmistakable determination underscored her comment and Loren released his breath in a gusty sigh. "I'm too familiar with that tone to argue. You always did have a regrettable weak spot for underdogs."

  "Stefano is far from an underdog. He'll resolve this problem on his own at some point. I'm just hoping to speed up the process." She slanted her uncle a thoughtful gaze. "What do you know about the Salvatores? Do they run an ethical business?"

  "I don't recall any rumors of unethical behavior other than this one incident. If I remember correctly, the Salvatores have always maintained an excellent reputation. Why?"

  She gave a brisk nod. "That's my impression, too. I just wanted your take on the firm since I trust your judgment in these matters. And what about Robert Cornell? Have you ever met him?"

  Her uncle hesitated. "Yes."

  "And?"

  "A very astute businessman."

  "What about on a more personal level?"

  Her uncle's brows pulled together. "Why the sudden interest in Salvatore and Cornell? Is this business related or personal?"

  "Both. Humor me, Uncle Loren. Consider the two on a purely impartial basis. If you had to trust one or the other, whom would you choose?"

  "And my choices are Salvatore and ... "

  "Cornell."

  "Stick with Salvatore."

  "I was afraid you'd say that," she murmured.

  She glanced toward Stefano. He was talking to a stunning redhead, smiling in a way that filled Penelope with a peculiar longing. She trusted her uncle's instincts as much as her own ability to sift and weigh and analyze. Although on the surface, Cornell seemed the more trustworthy of the two, certain elements didn't add up. Perhaps it was because all the information she had on him appeared too perfect. She'd never trusted total perfection. It rarely lived up to its press. That combined with Stefano's warning ...

  It didn't take long to evaluate her options. She'd give Mr. Salvatore one last try, she decided. If he turned her proposition down flat, she'd search out Cornell and judge the man for herself. Perhaps perfect on paper really did mean perfect. And even if the man was flawed, she could work with flawed. She grinned. After all, she'd planned to work with Stefano and he was most decidedly, arrogantly, deliciously flawed.

  Marching across the floor, she reached Stefano's side and slipped a hand beneath his arm. It took every ounce of nerve to smile at the redhead as though she didn't have a care in the world while tucking herself tight against the man she'd claimed. He glanced down at her with a puzzled expression.

  "I thought we could discuss my proposition a little further," she murmured in a sultry voice that would have shocked her fellow board members if they'd heard.

  But, darn it all! Sometimes logic just didn't belong.

  And she suspected this was one of those few times. Unfortunately the voice was all she had. No doubt a seduction lesson or two would have been far more helpful at this particular juncture than so many finance classes. Ironic, considering she'd never felt the need to seduce a man before.

  "Something you forgot to tell me, darling?" the redhead asked Stefano.

  "Amorata. " He held out the hand Penelope had left unfettered. "Bellissima. Moglie mia. I swear. I've never even seen this woman before in my life."

  Penelope's mouth dropped open. "Never ... I don't believe this! Are you going to stand here and tell me, tell her-we've never met?"

  "Yes." His head bobbed up and down. "Never."

  "Oh, and I suppose I wasn't in your office earlier today propositioning you?"

  Stefano muttered something in Italian, before carefully disengaging his arm and hastening to the redhead's side. "She must be insane. Please, Hanna, don't hold it against her."

  To her amazement, Hanna simply smiled, her amusement indicating a woman secure in her position. She tucked her hand through Stefano's arm in a manner identical to the one Penelope had used. "I think I know what's going on."

  Well, Penelope sure as heck didn't. She planted her hands on her hips and scowled at the two. "Stefano Salvatore. I proposed marriage to you less than twelve hours ago. Are you going to stand there and deny it?"

  The two stared at her, tom between laughter and shock. "Marriage?"

  "That's it." Penelope retreated behind her most businesslike facade-the one she reserved for the grittiest board meetings. "You can forget the twenty-four-hour grace period, Mr. Salvatore. It's been rescinded. As far as I'm concerned, our business ends now. I'm going to find Cornell."

  She spun around and slammed into an impressive wall of chest. Her gaze shifted upward, clashing with a pair of smoldering dark brown eyes-a very familiar pair of smoldering dark brown eyes.

  "Uh-oh," she murmured.

  CHAPTER THREE

  STEFANO dropped a heavy hand on her shoulder, steadying her. "Hel
lo, cara."

  "Stefano?" Penelope whispered.

  "In the flesh."

  She glanced behind her and winced. "If you're Stefano, then who...?"

  "Allow me to introduce you to my twin brother, Marco, and his wife, Hanna."

  "No, thank you," she managed with remarkable composure. "I believe I'll just go slink into the most convenient corner and suffer my humiliation in private."

  "I don't think so." Grasping her shoulders, he spun her around to suffer her humiliation in all too public a fashion. "Marco, Hanna, I'd like to introduce you to Penelope Wentworth. She owns Crabbe and Associates.'

  "I gather Penelope is your new fiancée?" Hanna asked irrepressibly. "Your father will be thrilled."

  "She's not my fiancée, new or otherwise."

  "Gee, that isn't what she told us."

  "Enough, amarata," Marco interrupted. "We should leave them to discuss their differences in private." He shot his brother a broad grin. "We can grill him later. Maybe he can give us a few of the more interesting details during the next Salvatores' board meeting. That way he won't have to repeat the story a half-dozen times."

  Stefano's fingers bit into her shoulders and Penelope winced. To her astonishment he directed a harsh flood of Italian toward his brother. Judging by Hanna's expression, it was probably a good thing Penelope didn't understand a word of it. The instant he finished, he swept her across the room. People moved out of their way, suspicion and dislike in the gazes that settled on Stefano, surprise in the gazes that landed on her.

  Heaven help him! Penelope thought, horrified. Was this the sort of treatment he received on a regular basis? She had a terrible feeling it was. She slanted him a quick, concerned glance. How could he stand coming to these functions? It must be sheer torture.

  They walked through the nearest doorway, which led onto a balcony overlooking the San Francisco Bay. Lights glittered along the sweep of the Golden Gate and Bay Bridges and dotted the darkness of the water. If it weren't for the fury emanating from the man beside her she'd have found the view as relaxing as it was picturesque. A faint glow illuminated Stefano's features, gilding the angles with moonlight. It gave a harsh beauty to his appearance, a stern remoteness she'd never seen before. She tugged against his hold.

  "You can let go of me now."

  He did as she requested, allowing for a meager inch or two of breathing space. She'd hoped his releasing her would have stopped the awareness slamming through her. It didn't, and the unexpected sensation confused her. She'd worked with men all her life and had never experienced such an overwhelming attraction. Why did it have to happen with Stefano? She suppressed a groan. What a pickle! This would make for a most inconvenient marriage.

  "What the hell did you think you were doing?" he finally demanded.

  Penelope wrapped her arms around her waist. "I was giving you a final chance before approaching Cornell."

  "By propositioning my brother? What is it? Any Salvatore is acceptable, even the married ones?"

  "Oh, cut it out, Stefano." She shot him her most quelling look. It didn't do the least bit of good. He continued to regard her with one of his more intimidating glares. Not that she was intimidated. Not a chance. "Why do men always leap to the most absurd conclusions when confronting women?"

  "For your information, cara, being upset because you propositioned my brother, isn't the least absurd. It's downright reasonable."

  "Reasonable?" She experienced an irrational flash of anger. When was the last time she'd lost her temper? She couldn't even remember. Planting her hands on her hips, she glared at Stefano. "It is not the least reasonable to be upset. For your information, I did not proposition Marco." She cleared her throat. "Not exactly."

  "What 'exactly' would you call it?"

  "You're being deliberately obtuse. You know I thought Marco was you. It was..." She lifted her chin. "It was a natural error. Perfectly understandable."

  "Meaning you couldn't tell the two of us apart. What happened to your impressive ability to weigh, analyze and deduce?"

  Her hands collapsed into fists, anger shattering her composure. How did he do it? How did he manage, with a few choice words, to decimate years of experience controlling her emotions? "In case no one's bothered to mention it, you two are identical twins. Deduce that, if you would."

  "Hanna could tell the difference between us."

  "Oh, that's totally unfair! Hanna's married to Marco. I'd hope she could tell the difference between the two of you."

  "She could tell from the beginning," Stefano maintained stubbornly. "The first time we met she knew I wasn't Marco."

  "Well, bully for her!" Penelope paced in front of him, her glasses bouncing on the tip of her nose with each infuriated step. Muttering impatiently, she shoved them into her hair and out of the way. Her poor vision caused Stefano to appear blurred around the edges when she looked in his direction. But for now, she preferred him a bit blurry. "I've met you precisely once and that's supposed to be enough to distinguish you from your brother?"

  "You saw the photos in my office of the two of us. You knew I had a twin. You're a smart woman, a virtual female Sherlock Holmes with your logic this and analyze that. You couldn't have utilized a portion of your infamous deductive skills in order to uncover your mistake?"

  "I did uncover my mistake!"

  "Sure you did. The instant you body-slammed me. A little late in the day, considering you'd already let slip about that ridiculous marriage proposal."

  She understood then. "That's why you're so mad, isn't it? You're upset that they know I proposed to you."

  "Yes."

  Now that she'd figured out what had set him off, her temper cooled a trifle. It came as an immense relief. She didn't like losing control. "Just tell them it was a business proposition and that you refused me," she suggested. "That's simple enough, isn't it?"

  "You don't know my family, or you wouldn't say that. Do I need to remind you that I have five brothers?"

  She stared blankly.

  "Hello? Five brothers. Five brothers who won't let this go without having something to say about it."

  "Oh, I get it." She dismissed his concern with a careless shrug. "So they'll tease you a little. I assume that's what brothers do? I never had any so I admit I'm unfamiliar with the process."

  He eyed her in a way that suggested they'd be talking about her background in greater detail at some point in the future. "I'm used to being teased," he informed her. "That doesn't bother me. What does have me concerned is what will happen when word leaks as to why you propositioned me. What happens when your uncle gets wind of your activities?"

  "Is that likely? Your family will-"

  "Take great delight in discussing it. Discussing it at length, I might add. That's often accompanied by the occasional eavesdropping secretary or visitor. My family won't deliberately leak the information, but these things have a way of getting out."

  She frowned. "Uncle Loren will be hurt if he hears about my marital plans from an outside source."

  "I suspect he'll be more than hurt. I suspect he'll be flat-out furious. I also suspect he'll do everything he can to stop you."

  It was a distinct possibility. Loren had controlled the reins of her corporation for a lot of years. He was accustomed to it, enjoyed it, planned to continue for a long time to come, And she would have been perfectly happy to let him if ..

  "You don't understand, Stefano. Once I'm married-"

  He cut her off again. "Once you're married, you'll have control of an infuriated board. I doubt they'll understand or sympathize with your need to take over. How will a power struggle affect your business? Or don't you care?"

  "Of course I care. It's my company we're talking about."

  "Then I suggest you leave everything status quo. You've said your uncle's doing a good job. Let him continue doing a good job."

  "You don't understand."

  "No, I don't." He crossed to stand beside her, resting his arms along the railing of the balcony. H
is anger faded, but the tension remained, implicit in the taut set of his shoulders and rigid length of his spine. "Look, Nellie. I can't pretend to understand the relationship you have with your uncle, but in my family, Salvatores stick together. Loyalty is everything to us. We don't go behind each others' backs and we don't act in a way contrary to what's in our collective best interests."

  "There are facts not in your possession."

  He glanced over his shoulder at her, his mouth twitching into a smile at her phrasing. "I assume these facts would influence my opinion?"