The truth was she’d enjoyed this time with Franco. He brought out her creative side. He coaxed her to think outside the box...in more than one way.
Their lives had taken on a certain routine. Monday had become their day for collaboration, and the rest of the week they split up to work with their own staffs. When the weekend rolled around, she spent Saturday with her father, who refused to speak of her husband. Carla was all right with avoiding the subject of Franco, as her feelings for him were too confusing to explain.
But when Sunday came, they were expected at Franco’s grandparents for dinner. At first, it had been awkward with Franco not putting off the wedding until they’d been back in the country. Franco insisted that he just couldn’t wait another day to make her his wife.
He was so charismatic that she almost believed him. His grandmother grudgingly forgave him while his grandfather didn’t give any hint of his feelings toward their marriage.
With the circumstances of their marriage sorted, his grandmother welcomed Carla with open arms. His grandfather, on the other hand, wasn’t as friendly, but he at least acknowledged her presence, which was more than her father was willing to do for Franco. With each passing week, she’d grown more comfortable attending Sunday dinner—almost as though she belonged there.
However, this sunny Monday morning, she glanced across the desk anticipating Franco’s reaction as he examined the mockup of their new menu. It had a colorful center insert introducing the new Marchello Spices. Her gaze took in his dark eyes to his smooth cheeks and strong jaw. And then there was his mouth. Oh, the delicious things he could do with it.
The longer her gaze lingered on him, the faster her heart beat. She should be focusing on these important decisions, but she found herself utterly distracted. What would it be like if they were a real couple?
Would Franco still be so willing to help her with the business? Or would he be angry that she was more focused on things at the office instead of spending time at home with him? Would he understand her devotion to her father and her need to do whatever it took to care for him?
She’d like to think that Franco would be understanding about all of it. After all, he was a workaholic just like her. And if he understood her career drive, then would he understand her other needs—needs that had nothing to do with spreadsheets and profit margins. Would he be more than willing to satisfy them?
It wasn’t like they didn’t have chemistry—they had that in spades. In fact, their problem was keeping all those sparks from erupting into a flame—
“Carla?” Franco’s voice drew her from her fantasy.
“Um, what?”
“I said this looks really good.”
“Really? You like it?” She’d been unsure if she’d chosen the right color combinations.
“Yes, I do. You did great.” He smiled at her, making her heart flutter. “We make a great team.”
Carla stood and moved to his side of the desk. “Yes, we do. Just sign here.” She pointed to the form that required both of their signatures. “And then we can get these off to the printers.”
When she offered him a pen, their fingers touched. Every cell in her body tingled. Her gaze caught and held his a moment longer than necessary. Her heart tumbled in her chest.
In that moment, she had to wonder why she’d insisted on a platonic relationship. He took the pen and scrolled his name on the appropriate line. And then he turned to her, but she was standing a little too close and his shoulder brushed against her. She should step back, but her feet refused to comply.
“Shall we celebrate?” Her voice came out in a breathy tone.
Desire flared in his eyes. “What did you have in mind? Maybe an early dinner?”
“No. I don’t want to wait that long.”
He reached out, gripping her waist. “I like the way you think.”
His mouth pressed to hers, making time stand still. And yet her heart beat wildly. It didn’t matter how many times he kissed her, it always had the same intoxicating effects as the first one.
As he drew her to him, she willingly followed his lead. Her arms wrapped around his neck, allowing her fingertips to comb through his thick, dark hair. As she gave herself over to the moment, a moan of pleasure swelled in the back of her throat.
She was kissing her husband. Those last two words played over and over in her mind. It was so strange to know they had a piece of paper that said this display of affection was all right and encouraged. Not that she needed any encouragement.
She took over the lead and intensified the kiss. It was impossible for her to get enough of him. She pushed him back against the edge of the desk, ignoring the sound of pens and papers falling to the floor. Reality had no room in this moment. Her fingers moved to his tie, pulling it loose so she could get to the shirt buttons beneath—
“What is going on here?” The boom of her father’s disapproving voice immediately chilled her blood.
She jumped back. Her heart stilled as she groaned inwardly. She couldn’t believe she’d been caught making out with her husband by her father, of all people. Where was her assistant? Why hadn’t Rosa headed him off? She knew Carla didn’t like to be surprised by her father.
Carla smoothed her hands down over her clothes, making sure nothing was out of place. And then, with heat warming her whole face, she turned to him. It didn’t seem to matter how old she got, her father had that effect over her. Why was she acting like she was a teenager again, getting caught making out on the couch with her boyfriend?
She swallowed hard. “Papa, what are you doing here?”
His gray brows furrowed together. “This is a business office. I didn’t think I had to explain my presence. So am I to presume this so-called marriage is real?”
Carla chanced a glance at Franco. She sent him an apologetic look as he straightened his tie. She’d never meant for this to happen. Of all the times for them to lose their focus on work and let the passion between them flare up and consume them.
With his tie straightened, Franco draped an arm around Carla’s waist and drew her near. “Yes, it’s a real marriage.”
Franco’s unwavering stare met her father’s. It appeared there was to be a battle of wills. Oh no! This is not good, not good at all.
Carla pulled away from Franco’s hold. She stepped closer to her father. “Papa, what did you need?”
Her father’s gaze turned to her. “He’s lying to you and you don’t even know it.”
“Lying? Lying about what?”
“Everything. This marriage. This business deal. When it’s all over—when he gets what he wants—he’ll leave you with nothing but a broken heart. He’s a liar just like his grandfather—”
“That’s not true.” Franco’s restrained voice held a thread of anger. “If anyone here is a liar, it’s you.”
Her father’s gaze narrowed as his face filled with color. “I don’t know what your grandfather told you—”
“He didn’t have to tell me anything. There’s proof. I know for a fact that you cheated.”
“Is that what you’ve been telling my daughter?” Her father stepped toward Franco.
“Stop!” Carla stepped between the two men. There was absolutely no way she was going to let them come to blows.
And quite frankly she wasn’t even sure what they were fighting over. It seemed that both men knew something she didn’t, and she was so tired of being left out of things. Her mother had done it with her illness. Her father did it with the business. And now Franco had done it with the secret he knew about her father.
Her father continued to glare at Franco. “Then tell your husband to take back his empty accusation—”
“It isn’t empty,” Franco ground out. “I can prove it.”
For the briefest second, surprise lit up her father’s eyes. But in a blink, it was gone. It didn’t matter. Carla had
seen it, and she wondered about this proof.
She stepped up to her father. “Tell me it isn’t true. Tell me I haven’t been falsely defending you all this time.” When her father didn’t immediately respond, she said, “Papa, say something.”
Her father stepped around her and approached Franco. “I’m telling you that if you hurt my daughter, you’ll have to deal directly with me.” And then her father turned to her. “And when you’re in my office, I expect you to act like a respectable businesswoman.”
He didn’t say another word as he strode out of the office, leaving her speechless. She felt as though the ground beneath her feet had shifted.
Did he lie to me?
All this time she’d just taken it for granted that her father was an honorable man, who always spoke the truth. She’d have defended him until her final breath. But had she been wrong about him?
No. That is not possible.
But she’d caught a glimpse of worry in his eyes before he’d moved to confront her husband. She didn’t know what to believe.
She wanted to go after him and have it out, but she resisted. She vividly remembered the doctor’s stern warning about avoiding undo stress.
Hurt and angry, she turned to Franco with an accusing glare. “How dare you speak to him like that?”
“Me?” He pressed a hand to his chest. “What about him? He’s the one throwing around insults.”
She crossed her arms and frowned at him. “And you’re the one that kept egging him on.”
“Why are you mad at me? He’s the one that barged into your office—an office that had the door closed, I might remind you—and yet you’re attacking me.”
“Because you’re strong and healthy. He’s not.” With each word uttered, her emotions rose, as did her voice. “He needs to be taken care of. He doesn’t need you yelling at him—”
“I didn’t raise my voice, but if he’d kept it up—”
“You’d what?”
Franco huffed out a breath as he raked his fingers through his hair. “Nothing.”
“Oh, it was something, all right.” She tapped her foot. “And I want to know what you were going to do if he hadn’t left.”
His intense glare met hers. If he thought she was going to back down, he had another thought coming. Because as fiery as their passion could be, it appeared their tempers ran just as high. “I wasn’t going to just stand by quietly while he insulted me, my family...and most especially you. I had to speak the truth. I’m sorry you ended up getting hurt. That was never my intention.”
“Is that why you kept this secret all this time? Why did you let me make a fool of myself defending him?”
He glanced downward. “I know what it’s like to have a distant relationship with my father. I didn’t want to say anything to cause trouble between you and your father.”
She paused as she took in his words. And suddenly the fire went out of her temper. But she refused to get swept off her feet by his chivalry. Still, she wanted to be sure she heard him correctly. “You were coming to my defense?”
He glanced away as he shrugged. “Yeah. Sure. I guess. Now can we move on?”
It wasn’t the strong affirmation that she’d been hoping for, but it definitely wasn’t a denial. “You were lying when you told my father there was proof, weren’t you?”
She really needed him to say yes. Because if he said something else, that would mean what she believed about her father—being an honest, loyal and respectable man—wasn’t true. And...and that just couldn’t be so.
Franco turned his back to her as he bent down to start gathering the evidence of their moment of reckless passion. That exquisite moment seemed so long ago now. If her father had set out to drive a wedge between her and Franco, he’d succeeded.
“Franco, answer me.” Her voice wavered ever so slightly with emotion. “Do you have proof?”
He didn’t answer her as he continued to pick up papers and pens from the floor. Once everything was placed on the side of the desk, he straightened. And then he turned to her. “We should drop the subject. I shouldn’t have said anything to your father. I’m sorry. It’s just that he got to me.”
“My father is good at pressing people’s buttons. But that still doesn’t answer my question.”
“Does it matter?”
“It matters very much.”
Franco blew out a deep sigh. “There’s a video of your father cheating at a high-stakes poker game.”
Her gaze searched his. Nothing in his demeanor said he was lying or in any way out to get her. Instead, sympathy reflected in his eyes.
She pressed a hand to her mouth as she gasped. It was true. Her father had cheated at cards and then publicly shamed Franco’s grandfather by calling him a liar to friends and business associates alike.
Her vision blurred. How could he have done such a thing? The man that she’d looked up to her whole life—the man that she’d given up her dreams for—had lied to her. He had told her that her sweet, kind husband was a liar—he’d insisted on it—and all along he was the liar, the cheat.
Her heart ached. Her father hadn’t respected her enough to tell her the truth. Did he think she’d stop loving him? That would never happen. But she was hurt and disappointed. A tear splashed onto her cheek.
The next thing she knew, Franco was drawing her into his embrace. He held her and stroked her hair. “It’s okay. It was a long time ago.”
Her tears spilled onto Franco’s blue dress shirt. It was only then that she realized she was crying. She hated to cry. She wasn’t this weepy person. She was strong.
But hearing that about the one person in her life whom she thought she could trust thoroughly had broken something within her. Maybe it was the childhood belief that her father could do no wrong. Maybe it was losing her mother so quickly and far too soon that had her putting her father up on a pedestal. Whatever it was, she’d never look at him quite the same way again.
Drawing on the strength she knew lurked deep down inside her, she pulled back from Franco. She swiped at her eyes that must be a smear of mascara by now. “I’m sorry about that.”
“Don’t be.” His voice was soft and warm like a giant hug. “I’ll take any excuse to hold you in my arms.”
Her gaze dipped to his lips. And then, throwing caution to the wind, she leaned forward, pressing her mouth to his. At first, he didn’t move, as though he was totally caught off guard by her boldness.
As his mouth began to move over hers, she felt careless, reckless. It was as if by finding out her father wasn’t the man she thought him to be that she no longer had to hold herself back and play by the rules.
“Hold that thought,” she said. And then she lifted her phone and dialed her assistant. She sent her home early. Then she locked her office door.
When she turned back to Franco, his eyes lit up with interest. “Should I be worried?”
She kicked off her heels and slowly approached him. “That depends. What are you worried about?”
A smiled toyed at the corners of his mouth. “With the way you’re eyeing me up, I have a feeling you’re about to take advantage of me.”
She felt freer than she’d felt in a very long time, which was funny because she was married and not free at all. And in this moment, being married to Franco was all right with her. “Do you want to be taken advantage of?”
When she came to a stop in front of him, he gazed deep into her eyes. “Oh yes, I do.”
That’s all she needed to hear. She once again tugged at his tie, loosening it. And then her fingers fumbled with the shirt buttons. This time there were no reservations, no doubts about her actions.
In this particular moment, all she wanted was Franco—all of him. She loosened two buttons before he swept her up into his strong arms and carried her to the couch. He laid her down and then joined her.
; His lips pressed to hers. It was like a balm upon her broken heart. As the kiss intensified, she momentarily forgot about the lies, the pain and the disappointment. In this moment, she felt wanted and cared about. She didn’t want this moment to end.
CHAPTER TWELVE
CARLA WASN’T GOING to be outdone.
Three weeks of working practically nonstop and they were making great strides. With all the pressing matters to be resolved, she hadn’t had time to visit her father. She still phoned each day, but their conversations were short and stilted. However, she made sure to send over updates on this new venture with Marchello Spices out of courtesy.
Oh, who was she kidding? She’d purposely been avoiding seeing him or having any meaningful conversation. She knew the subject of the infamous poker game would inevitably come up, and she wasn’t ready for what he would say.
Because even though she’d denied the truth as long as she could, she knew the one man she’d trusted most in this world had lied to her. But hearing him admit it...it would change their relationship forever.
When he called, she always rushed off the phone. And when he’d invite her over for dinner, she said she had work to do on her big project. She noticed that he was going out of his way to be nice to her, but she wasn’t ready. Not yet.
She knew she couldn’t avoid him or the subject forever. But she told herself that she’d deal with it when the time was right. She just wasn’t certain when that might be.
Right now, she had other matters on her mind. In exchange for putting Marchello Spices in all of the Falco restaurants, Franco was advertising their restaurants on their website and print ads, as well as adding a “Now featured in Falco Fresco Ristorantes” to their spice labels.
Their joint staff had pushed for promoting their marriage as a marrying of the restaurants and the line of spices. And under normal circumstances it would be an ideal PR campaign with the two heirs marrying, but they both knew this marriage would soon end, and they didn’t want their divorce to tarnish all their hard work.
Falling for Her Convenient Groom Page 10