The Bride’s Proposition

by Day Leclaire

  "Yes."

  "I'll also assume you don't intend to give me all the facts?"

  "No more than you intend to give me all your facts regarding Robert Cornell."

  He remained silent for a moment before asking, "I take it you're still planning to proposition him?"

  "I don't have a choice."

  "Mind if I make a suggestion?" He didn't wait for her answer. "Don't tell him the purpose of your meeting. At least, not the true purpose. Don't propose to him in that initial get-together like you did to me."

  "Why not?"

  He turned to stare out to sea again, his remoteness belied by the iron-tight grip he maintained on the railing. "Get a sense of the man first. Will you do that much?"

  "What if my uncle hears about my meeting with him? How will I explain it?"

  "What if your uncle hears about our meeting? I suspect you'll have even more trouble explaining that, especially considering my reputation."

  "Your reputation doesn't worry me."

  "It should," he bit out.

  She approached, joining him at the railing. "As I've told you, I don't believe you're guilty. Therefore your reputation has no bearing on my actions or decisions. What I need to know is ... can you keep Marco and Hanna from talking?"

  "For a short while."

  "A short while is all that's necessary." It was time to wrap up their meeting. If she stayed with him any longer, she'd be tempted to do something incredibly stupid. Like beg him to marry her. "I owe you an apology, Stefano. I've made matters awkward for you with your family."

  "I'll survive."

  "I also appreciate your suggestions."

  "No charge."

  She smiled at that. "Well ... " She offered her hand. "Thanks again."

  His fingers swallowed hers. "Just so you know, Nellie ... There's something about all this that doesn't add up. I know it. You know it. And Cornell won't be fooled, either."

  She stared, momentarily stunned. Oh, dear. How in the world had she given herself away? She released a silent sigh. Not that the entire situation wasn't suspicious enough in and of itself. "I have no idea what you're talking about," she managed to say with a modicum of serenity.

  "Sure you do. You're just unwilling to explain." His mouth slanted upward in a dangerous smile. "But I'll figure it out."

  "You won't have the opportunity, remember? I'll be seeing Robert Cornell tomorrow."

  He didn't bother arguing further. "So you've said."

  "And ... and you're finished with the whole business, right? You've made your decision, so I'm free to approach someone else?"

  "It's a free country, cara." His gaze intensified. "Or were you asking my permission?"

  "Of course not." She glanced toward the light streaming from the ballroom. "I should go now."

  She took a single step in the direction of the doorway before he stopped her. Catching her around the waist, he swung her into his arms. "When you go to Cornell, you should take one final point into consideration."

  She read the determination in his gaze and knew what he intended. "You're going to kiss me, aren't you?"

  "The thought crossed my mind."

  Her response was instantaneous. Never had she felt so aware, so alive, her senses sharper than she could ever remember experiencing. Not even in the most spirited board meetings had she been this sensitive to every nuance in a man's voice, every inflection in every word, every look and breath and expression.

  "And what's the kiss supposed to prove? Am I supposed to find you more attractive than Cornell? Should I let him kiss me, too, so I can compare?"

  Stefano's eyes caught fire. "I'd rather you didn't."

  "Why? You don't want me."

  "I didn't say that." He cradled her close, holding her as though she were infinitely precious. "I said I didn't want to marry you in order to acquire Janus Corporation.'

  She relished the forbidden sensation. Her entire life had been spent in the pursuit of the appropriate and necessary. This was neither of those things. And in that moment she found she craved it more than anything else in the world. "Okay, Stefano. Go ahead and kiss me. But it won't prove a thing."

  "No?" His breath grazed her temple, catching in the soft waves of her hair. It was the most subtle of caresses. A touch without touching. She shivered in anticipation. "I think it'll prove something very important."

  As he spoke, he splayed her arms outward, away from her sides. A wash of cool air funneled in, stealing away the warmth of his touch. She wished she could close the distance between them, but his silent request was implicit. He wanted her to hold the position. Unable to resist, she stood acquiescent, waiting to see what he intended. He didn't keep her waiting for long.

  Murmuring what could only have been an Italian endearment, he leaned in. He still didn't take her in his arms, though his warmth returned, eclipsing the cool sea air and splashing across her skin in delicious waves of scented heat. Just when she thought she couldn't bare it a moment longer, he reached for her. It was a butterfly touch, the very tips of his fingers skimming with feather light strokes. He traced a leisurely path across her bared shoulder blades and down her arms to the center of her palms, arousing her with stunning ease.

  She shuddered in reaction, and a delicious lassitude radiated to the very depths of her being. How was that possible? How could he kindle such intense passion with only the most subtle physical contact? She moistened her lips, swaying closer, desperate to know his full embrace. Damn it all! Why didn't he yank her into his arms and kiss the hell out of her?

  "You still haven't explained," she said, fighting for coherency, "What will kissing me prove?"

  His hands trailed a path of fire back upward, branding her all over again. "Nellie. Cara mia." His thumbs brushed her cheekbones. "Look at me."

  She didn't want to look. That would force her to think about what he was doing, force her to take action instead of allowing him to determine the full depth and scope of their embrace. "Please, Stefano." Kiss me, dammit!

  "What are you feeling, Nellie? What are you thinking?"

  She opened one eye. "To be honest, I'm feeling pretty darned desperate. And I'm thinking that if you don't do something about it soon, I might have to show you how it's done."

  She shut her eyes again and waited as an impossibly long minute ticked by. When was he going to kiss her? Unable to contain her impatience, she peeked up at him. Passion marked his face, the male aggression as blatant as she'd ever seen it. But he made no move to act on his desire.

  "You want my kiss, don't you?" The quiet urgency in his voice only served to underscore the strength of his need.

  "Yes, I want it," honesty compelled her to admit.

  "Very much, if you don't mind. And soon. Like now."

  He didn't take the hint. "That should tell you that it's more than a business alliance you're after. In fact, I'm willing to bet that business is the last thing on your mind."

  "You'd win that bet," she muttered.

  "Don't you understand? You want something else. You need something more. Don't settle for less than a full relationship."

  Curiosity consumed her. "Did you? With your ex-fiancée, I mean? Is that the point of this demonstration?"

  "Dammit, woman." She'd asked the wrong question.

  Darkness descended in his gaze and the mouth she'd hoped to explore as thoroughly as humanly possible compressed into a straight line. "You really are determined to annoy me, aren't you?"

  "It's not deliberate." Her chuckle rumbled in the air between them. "I believe Uncle Loren describes it as a talent."

  "Have you listened to a word I've said?"

  "I've listened to all of them. Right up until you said you were going to kiss me. Then I was hoping you'd replace words with action." She grinned. "You can take that as a serious request, by the way."

  "So I gathered."

  Ever so gently he slid her glasses from her hair and placed them on the tip of her nose. Penelope sighed in disappointment. "You're not goin
g to kiss me, are you?"

  "Smart woman."

  A small noise coming from the direction of the ballroom distracted her and she glanced over Marco's shoulder. Bill Marks, the organizer of the charity benefit stood in the doorway of the balcony, watching them. "Hello, Bill," she called. "Looking for someone?"

  He hesitated for a second, then nodded. "As a matter of fact, I was. I'd like to speak to Mr. Salvatore."

  "Listen to me, Nellie," Stefano said in an undertone. "I need you to leave. Now."

  She glanced from one man to the other. "Why?"

  "I don't want you caught in the middle of this."

  "In the middle of-" Comprehension hit and she spun around to regard Marks with a suspicious, narrow eyed stare. "What's going on, Bill?"

  "Ms. Wentworth, please. I'd prefer to speak to Mr. Salvatore in private."

  "I don't doubt that for a minute." She took up a defiant stance in front of Stefano and folded her arms across her chest. "But I'm not leaving. So I suggest you tell me what's going on."

  Stefano dropped his hands to her shoulders. "Don't interfere. This is my problem and I'll deal with it."

  "But-"

  "He's come to ask me to leave, as I'm sure you're aware." He gently propelled her out of the way. "I don't hide behind women, Penelope. Nor do I allow them to stand in the line of fire when someone comes gunning for me."

  Penelope. He'd called her Penelope. That hurt more than anything else he could have said. It also infuriated her. "Is Mr. Salvatore right?" Beside her Stefano muttered a short word in Italian. It did not sound complimentary. "Are you here to ask him to leave, Bill?"

  The poor man looked most unhappy. "I'm afraid so. As the organizer of the event, I'm required to take care of the situation. If it were up to me ... " He shrugged. "But it isn't. And since this is for charity, we can't afford even the appearance of-"

  Penelope smiled sweetly. "Impropriety?"

  "Yes."

  A sudden thought occurred. "Is it all the Salvatores or just this Salvatore?"

  The split-second hesitation gave Marks away. Stefano stiffened beside her and she could practically smell the fierce aggression take hold at the threat to his family. "Who's behind this?" Whereas before his lilting Italian accent had stroked each word, now it hardened into fierce demand, a whip instead of a caress.

  "No one. Everyone! I really can't say, Mr. Salvatore. I've simply been asked to deal with the situation."

  "Who asked you? Give me a name."

  "I can't do that. I'm sorry. It would mean my job."

  Penelope decided to step in again. No doubt it would rile Stefano, but that couldn't be helped. "I'm disappointed in you, Mr. Marks. Crabbe and Associates, as well as Salvatores, has always been happy to support these benefits. I see we'll have to reassess our position."

  "Please, Ms. Wentworth. I'd rather you didn't do that. You've always been quite generous."

  "Tell me ... has there ever been the appearance of impropriety as far as my company is concerned?"

  "Never!"

  "And if I vouch for the Salvatores?"

  "I told you not to interfere, cara," Stefano interrupted.

  She kept her gaze trained on Marks as she replied.

  "This might be a good time for you to learn I don't take instruction well. I'm much more accustomed to giving it." A sudden idea occurred-the perfect solution to their problem. "I know. We'll dance."

  "Excuse me?"

  "We'll dance." She faced him, offering a broad, satisfied smile. "You and I. After that, I'll dance with all of your brothers while Uncle Loren dances with their wives. And we'll laugh. A lot. We'll also talk to a few key individuals who have enough influence to put an end to any further comments for the evening, and will be only too willing to cooperate if they wish to continue doing business with my firm."

  "Don't put yourself in the middle," Stefano warned.

  "You might find you don't have as much influence as you'd hoped."

  Her smile faded. "Do you remember when you asked me to trust your judgment on a certain matter of mutual interest?" She asked the question with pointed delicacy.

  He sighed. "You want me to trust yours now?"

  "I'll make a deal with you. I'll do as you suggested. I won't approach this particular business deal the same way I did today:'

  "And in exchange?"

  Her smile returned, even more brilliant than before.

  "We dance." She glanced at Marks. "Bill, I suggest you wait here for a little while. Enjoy the view. I don't think you'll need to worry about the appearance of impropriety any further this evening."

  "Thank you, Ms. Wentworth. I suspect you're right."

  "Yes, I suspect I'm right, too. I usually am. And you're quite welcome." She slipped a hand into the crook of Stefano's elbow and walked with him toward the ballroom. "Now then, Mr. Salvatore ... Where were we before we were so rudely interrupted?"

  "I was leaving and you were going to set up your appointment with Cornell," Stefano answered promptly.

  She slanted him a speaking look. "That's not my recollection. I seem to remember you were going to kiss me."

  "As I recall I was going to not kiss you. For once in my life I'd planned to play it safe."

  "A pity."

  His mouth curved into a wry smile. "My feelings, precisely."

  "Do you suppose dancing would be playing it safe?"

  "With you? I sincerely doubt it,"

  She doubted it, as well. Still ... It wouldn't be anywhere near as exciting as kissing Stefano Salvatore. Darn it all. She suspected it would have been an enjoyable activity before getting married and bringing an end to any further pleasure.

  Stefano glanced at the woman clinging to his arm.

  He'd wanted to kiss her. He'd held her in his arms and been consumed with the urge to cover her mouth with his and explore the warm, silken depths. She wouldn't have resisted. No, she'd wanted it as much as he had. So what had stopped him?

  He knew what. The slight shock had reverberated through her body at his touch combined with the sheer astonishment in her brilliant golden eyes had made him hesitate. For one brief moment, he'd jarred her from her goal, had forced her to acknowledge him as a man instead of a solution to her business problem. The fact should have pleased him.

  Instead it had made him wary.

  Penelope had an untouched air about her that scared him spitless-a Sleeping Beauty awaiting true love's kiss. And he wasn't about to be the one to awaken her. Not while his reputation stood in ruins. It wouldn't be fair to either of them. In fact, if it hadn't been for this latest threat to the Salvatore business as a whole, he'd never have allowed Penelope to proceed with her current plan. He'd have simply left.

  But someone out there intended to destroy his family’s business. And he wasn't about to let that happen. He regarded the crowd through fierce eyes. Whoever it was should have stuck with ruining him. Because the moment they'd attacked his family, they'd made a fatal mistake. No one messed with what belonged to him.

  He glanced down at Penelope. "I promise, cara. You won't be harmed by this. If anyone tries-"

  "Let me guess." She slipped into his arms with an innate feminine grace and elegance that aroused all that was most elementally male in him. "You'll make him pay. Just as you'll make him pay for what he's trying to do to your family."

  He swung her onto the dance floor, his expression easing from ferocious to indulgent. "You know me so well?"

  "Nowhere near well enough," Penelope muttered beneath her breath.

  And nowhere near as well as she would have if he'd kissed her. She'd wanted that kiss with a desperation alien to her nature. Stefano had held her in his arms and she'd been overwhelmed with the urge to explore every inch of that fascinating mouth. The minute he'd touched her, every thought but one had consumed her. To revel in the intimacy of his kiss. To wallow in the wealth of emotions his touch inspired. So why had he stopped?

  She could guess.

  He didn't want her. She'd barged
into his office and proposed marriage. Or rather, she'd proposed a business arrangement. Was he afraid that if he kissed her he'd be obligated to accept her offer? Or was he simply not interested in her on any level, business or personal?

  It didn't matter, she told herself stoically. In fact, it was all for the best. For the briefest of moments she'd lost sight of her goal. That had never happened to her before. Never. Clearly Stefano Salvatore was a dangerous man and it would be a serious mistake to involve him in her scheme to gain control of Crabbe and Associates. She couldn't afford to be distracted. Not if she hoped to succeed.