The Bride’s Proposition

by Day Leclaire

  "Oh, please. Allow me," Stefano interrupted, lounging back in his chair. "My fiancée and I were going to offer to buy you out. If you're interested, we can discuss it over lunch."

  Cornell chuckled. "Buy me out? Is this some sort of joke?"

  "Not at all."

  "You've got a nerve, Salvatore. I'll give you that. Would you mind telling me why you think I'd be the least interested in selling? If anything, I should be making you the offer. With your current reputation, I can't see you remaining in business for much longer."

  "You're mistaken. Salvatores is allowing you the opportunity to bow out gracefully while you still can." Stefano's expression iced over. "Before we go public as the new owner of Janus Corp."

  "What the hell's the meaning of this?" He turned an infuriated gaze on Penelope. "You said you had something I might be interested in acquiring. You didn't say anything about buying me out."

  She impressed Stefano by smiling blandly. "Oops."

  "I don't know what game the two of you are playing, but you're making a mistake." He shoved back his chair and stood. "I don't play well with others."

  "I've heard that about you," Stefano murmured. Cornell planted his hands on the table and leaned close. "You're both going to regret this. No one plays me for a fool." His pale gaze switched to Stefano. "Janus Corp isn't yours yet, Salvatore. And even if you do end up acquiring it, I'll see that you don't benefit."

  Stefano slowly rose, his height enough of an intimidation to cause the other man to draw back. "Give me an excuse. You think I want to buy you out?" The sound of his laugh sent a shiver of reaction coursing down Penelope's spine. "I want to see you pay for what you've done to my family."

  "Your Salvatore charm is failing you," Cornell snarled. "That's the second time I've seen it happen. First with Kate Bennett and now here. What do you say to my making it three for three?" He snagged one of Penelope's curls. "How about it, Nellie? Dump Salvatore and back me instead. I guarantee you'll come out a winner."

  "Take your hand off her."

  The deeply accented order came as the softest of rumbles. For some reason, it made the demand all the more lethal-the male of the species staking his claim as clearly as though he'd howled it from a mountaintop. The elemental current carried, causing conversations to ebb and heads to turn. Silence reigned for an endless moment, the only sound the ragged give-and-take of Cornell's breath. Slowly his hand dropped from Penelope and he stepped away.

  "This isn't over, Salvatore."

  Stefano bared his teeth in a ferocious parody of a smile. "I hoped you'd say that."

  There was a certain lack of dignity in a man trying to look casual as he turned tail and ran. Not that Cornell ran. His pace remained sedate. But no one could doubt that he'd been forced to back down before a more dominant male. Stefano grinned at the sight. He'd savor the memory for a long time to come. Too bad his brothers hadn't been able to witness it, as well.

  "You're enjoying this," Penelope suddenly announced. There was no mistaking her indignation.

  "You have no idea."

  "Well, I won't stand for it. You said I should trust you. You said nothing about fighting over me like a feral dog." She rose and faced him. The full, sweet mouth he'd taken such pleasure in exploring formed an ominous line. "I see I'll have to take charge. Let's go, Stefano. We'll continue this meeting at my office where we can hash this matter out in private."

  "Sit down, Nellie."

  "You can't order me around like you did Cornell."

  They were still the center of attention, now even more so than before, and hot color swept across her cheekbones. "I won't stand for it."

  He didn't raise his voice, but the intonation held the same ruthless intent as when he'd laid claim to her in front of Cornell, "I said ... Sit Down."

  She leaned toward him until they were nearly nose to nose. Her eyes flashed more brilliantly than the golden rims of her glasses. "Listen up, Salvatore, and listen well."

  The fact that she stood her ground pleased him. Most women wouldn't have dared, not after the scene with Cornell. It suggested that their marriage would match strength with strength. And the kiss they'd exchanged suggested they'd also match passion with passion. He folded his arms across his chest. "I'm listening."

  "I'll sit down again since it's apparent you're not willing to return to my office. But that doesn't mean you've won. You got that? I don't take orders from anyone, no matter how well they snarl and growl."

  He lifted an eyebrow at that. "You think I snarl and growl well?"

  "Exceedingly well."

  "Got it." He waited a beat before asking, "Mind telling me why you've decided to stay?"

  "Because I'm hungry. I like the food at Benjamin's. And it takes forever to get reservations, " She resumed her seat and picked up the menu, burying her nose between the pages. "People are watching. Please sit down."

  He did as she requested. "Are you staying because you don't want to cause a scene or because you want lunch?"

  "After considering all the options at my disposal, I've decided lunch is the most reasonable choice available." She flipped a page. "It's also the only reason I'll admit to."

  Hidden behind her menu, she missed his smile, one he suspected was edged with tenderness. He was beginning to find his bride-to-be downright irresistible. "That's what I thought."

  "You two know each other, don't you? You and Cornell." She peeked at him over the top of the menu, a scowl lining her brow. "I mean, on more than a business footing."

  He didn't pretend to misunderstand. "We've run up against each other once or twice."

  "So I gathered from what you said about him last night. But there's more to it than that, isn't there? There's real history between you." The menu lowered another inch. "Why didn't you tell me?"

  "Because it has nothing to do with you."

  She made a show of closing the menu, though she still clutched it close. "You mean it had nothing to do with me. 'Had' being the operative word. As your future wife, I deserve to know the truth."

  "If you were going to be a real wife, I might agree," he retorted evenly. "As a temporary business partner, it's none of your concern."

  "It has to do with a woman, doesn't it?" she guessed. "Your ex-fiancée, perhaps?"

  "Try a bread stick."

  "What did he do? Date her after she left you? Encourage her to leave?"

  "You're not going to give up until I answer your questions, are you?"

  "I'm persistent."

  He shook his head ''I'd say nosy was a bit more accurate. "

  "Determined."

  "Stubborn."

  "That's a matter of perspective," she retorted, brushing aside the criticism. "Tell me the truth. Was he the reason your engagement failed? Or did he come along after the fact."

  "Oh, he preceded the fact."

  "That was why you warned me about him, because you were afraid he'd pull the same tricks with me that he did with her." Her lush mouth tilted into a lopsided smile and her deep, sultry laughter rang free. "That's really sweet of you."

  He leaned toward her and plucked the menu from her hands. "I hate to destroy your illusions, cara, but I'm not being sweet. We've agreed on a business deal, remember?"

  Her smile dimmed. "Of course I remember."

  "You had the choice of either me or Cornell." He caught her chin in his palm, forcing her bewitching gaze to fix on him. "You've made your choice and now you're going to stick to it. I intend to see to that."

  A hint of anger stirred in her expression. "I've never gone back on a deal in my life."

  "So my investigator said. That's one of the reasons I'm sitting here."

  "You have trust issues," she accused. "You expect me to trust you, but you can't trust me."

  "Got it in one."

  "Wait a minute ... You also said investigator."

  He smiled blandly. "I hope you'll understand my need to play it safe, considering my trust issues."

  "I think we understand each other per
fectly. You were burned by your fiancée and Cornell and now you don't trust anyone."

  "Wrong," he instantly denied. "It's Cornell I don't trust. He's ruthless. And now that he knows my plans, he'll do anything-no matter how unethical-to stop me. I want you to go into this relationship with your eyes wide-open. You're not going to back out of your marriage proposition. It's too late now."

  "I have no intention of backing out."

  "Good. Then there's only one last detail we need to discuss."

  "What is it?"

  His hand slid slowly from her chin, leaving behind a path of fire. "The conditions of our marriage."

  CHAPTER FIVE

  PENELOPE waited until the waiter had taken their order and left before continuing the conversation. "I assume you have terms you want me to agree to?"

  "A few."

  Despite the volatile nature of the conversation, she felt comfortable with this part of the discussion. Business came naturally to her. She had no problem discussing contractual options and conditions and negotiating a deal. Anything that avoided the emotional aspects of marriage sat well with her. Besides, after what she'd learned about Stefano and his trust issues, avoiding those aspects struck her as a wise move.

  "Name them."

  "Obviously I require free and clear title to Janus Corporation at the rock bottom price you referred to when we first met."

  "Done."

  "You're to live in my home for the duration of the marriage."

  Uh-oh. She didn't like the sound of that. The waiter arrived with the bottle of wine Stefano had ordered and she suffered through the prolonged ritual of the opening and tasting before she had the opportunity to question his latest demand. "Why? Why do I have to live with you?"

  "How's the wine?"

  "I'm sure it's fine:' She took a hasty sip to prove her point. The taste exploded on her tongue, catching her by surprise. The distinctive flavor filled her mouth, rich and full-bodied, and as delicious to the senses as Stefano's accent. "Oh, my. This is incredible. Very unusual."

  "We import the label from Italy."

  "I can see why. I rarely drink wine at lunch, but I'm willing to make an exception for this."

  "Let me guess. Wine doesn't mix well with business, right?"

  "Not at all."

  "Now why doesn't that surprise me?"

  She grinned, taking his teasing with good grace. "Oh, but it gets better. I'm also trained to ignore pure physical pleasures since they tend to be a distraction, too."

  Humor gleamed in his eyes, along with an alarming spark of determination-determination that warned he planned to change all that in the near future. "Quite right. We can't allow ourselves to become distracted by such disruptive impulses."

  "No, we can't." She responded to his amusement with a quick grin. "Hasn't anyone explained how this works? Food is to fuel the body, drink to quench thirst, clothes for protection, warmth and custom:' A laugh broke loose. "At least, that's what I try to tell myself."

  "A conclusion reached after due thought and consideration, no doubt based on pure rationality, deductive reasoning and prolonged intellectual analysis."

  "Don't forget experience. If that's taught me anything, it's to never allow emotion to eclipse reason. I shudder just thinking about it" She took another, slower sip of wine, fully savoring the taste and sensation. "But perhaps I've been a little too practical."

  "I think we can consider that a given." He held up the glass so the deep ruby color shimmered in the overhead light. "It's a nice little wine, though I admit I'm prejudiced. The vineyard is owned by Salvatore relatives. My father's visiting them as we speak."

  "A popular brand, I assume?"

  "Very." He returned the glass to the table and captured her hand in his. Caught within his hold, her fingers appeared tiny in comparison, fine-boned and frighteningly fragile versus his, which were long and capable and powerful. "I want you to live with me, Nellie, because I intend our marriage to look as normal as possible."

  "Back to the practical?" she questioned wistfully. Of the two of them, it would seem Stefano was having an easier time staying focused on business. A shame. She'd been taking such pleasure in forgetting a few of those hard-won lessons Loren had drummed into her over the years.

  "It won't last long, I promise. It's not my style."

  "In that case, I can be magnanimous." She swept a hand through the air. "Proceed."

  For an instant she thought he'd drop the wedding negotiations. But then he continued. "Considering the haste of the ceremony, I suspect there will be a lot of talk. I'd rather not provide any more than necessary."

  "Talk." Why hadn't she thought of that? Naturally there'd be gossip about their actions. They were both too well-known in the business community to avoid it. And no doubt the current stain on Salvatores reputation would add fuel to the discussion. "I don't suppose there's any way of avoiding a certain amount of talk about our personal affairs. But it shouldn't last long."

  "Particularly once they realize you're not pregnant."

  Penelope reached for her wineglass with an unsteady hand. "Pregnant?"

  "That's the first assumption people will make. Care to take a wild stab at what their next guess will be?"

  She didn't wait for Stefano to refill her glass. She helped herself. "That we're madly, passionately in love?"

  She didn't know where the words came from, but had the uneasy suspicion they escaped from some deep, closely guarded part of herself. Worse, she was willing to bet her comment resulted from wishful thinking rather than a more palatable excuse--like the wine she'd been drinking. Something about Stefano and the intimate aspects of their conversation had unlocked the forbidden. And once out in the open, she feared she'd have the very devil of a time locking those emotions away again.

  "Whether or not people believe we're in love will depend on how we act toward each other. No, the second round of gossip will start up as soon as they discover that you're in control of Crabbe and Associates. I assume the particulars of your parents will aren't general knowledge?"

  "No, they're not."

  "Once you officially take over, people will suspect you married in order to oust your uncle, particularly when news leaks that Salvatores has purchased Janus Corp." He paused a beat before adding, "And it will be the truth, won't it?"

  "Yes," she whispered. "There are reasons-"

  "Which brings me to my third condition."

  She didn't need him to spell it out. There wasn't a doubt in her mind what he wanted for his third condition-an explanation for her actions. "Don't make it a condition, Stefano. I can't tell you why I'm doing this. Not yet. Not until we're safely married."

  "Why?"

  "It's confidential. If I explained further it could put Crabbe and Associates at risk. And I won't do that. I can't. My business interests have to come first."

  "You'd allow others to suspect you don't have any confidence in your uncle's abilities?"

  She stared in alarm. "What do you mean?"

  The waiter appeared with their lunch and Penelope waited impatiently while he unloaded his tray. Her grilled chicken salad--dressing on the side-didn't look nearly as tempting as Stefano's blackened tiger prawns and scallops. To her astonishment, he took one look at her expression and slipped a portion of his meal from his plate to hers.

  "What are you doing?"

  "What do you think? I'm giving you what you really want."

  "If I'd wanted prawns, I'd have ordered them."

  The darkness of his gaze was far too penetrating for comfort. "Somehow I doubt that. You strike me as someone who makes her choices based on everything except personal desire. You've practically said as much." He forked a succulent morsel of shrimp and held it to her lips. "Let go, cara. Enjoy yourself."

  Giving in to temptation would set a bad precedent, especially when it was Stefano doing the tempting. But she couldn't resist. She took the forbidden bite and sighed, savoring the flavor. The prawn tasted as good as it smelled, particularly accent
uated with another sip of wine. "Red wine and seafood aren't supposed to go together."

  "Are you enjoying the wine?"

  "Yes."

  "And the seafood?"

  "Very much."

  "Then don't analyze what you should do or what's supposed to work. Simply appreciate the unexpected pleasure." He waited until she'd finished her meal before resuming business. "About your uncle ..."

  She looked up in abject guilt. How could she have forgotten their discussion? She'd never done that before meeting Stefano. And yet with him, it had become all too regular an occurrence. "Yes, of course. You were going to tell me how our marriage would adversely affect my uncle."