That would take him away from the bitter memories of his childhood and young adulthood. It would civilise the Delucca name, make him invulnerable, and in time no one would ever remember that Delucca had once been one of the Mafia’s most notorious names.
O’Connor’s voice came from behind him. ‘Keelin is a beautiful woman. Well educated. She’ll be an asset on your arm as you move forward and expand.’
Gianni’s mouth tightened as the kind of domestic scenario he hadn’t ever envisaged took root in his mind, much to his disgust. He didn’t want O’Connor to see the myriad emotions he was feeling in his eyes, so didn’t turn around. ‘You think that I can’t find a wife of my own choosing?’ Not that he’d contemplated it!
Liam O’Connor laughed dryly. ‘Delucca, I have no doubt that you could click your fingers and find a wife in seconds. Your reputation—’
Gianni swung around then, cutting the other man off. He forced his voice to sound calm when inside he felt hot, irritated. ‘Be very careful, O’Connor.’
The other man stood up from behind his desk and came around it. He was tall and imposing. Handsome, with a head of thick silver hair. The older alpha male squaring up to the younger one, even if Gianni was taller, younger and infinitely more handsome than O’Connor ever had been. Gianni knew all about alpha males; he’d squared up to the most alpha of them all: his father.
O’Connor spoke bluntly. ‘No other company can give you the instant sheen of respectability that we can, merely by association. If we merge, people trust our name enough to automatically trust you. Your products will be on shelves across the world within months. I am offering you the chance to prove your commitment to both your brand and your family name. You don’t need me to tell you that the people you will be dealing with will be more likely to put their trust and investment in a family man.’
Again the unspoken rang as loudly as a bell in the room: And in someone who didn’t have links to the underworld, or who had the damaging reputation of a playboy. Damn him. O’Connor was right. So how badly did he want this? Badly enough to embark on a union he’d never wished for? For the sake of a deal? Social acceptance? Professional respectability?
But it’s the deal of a lifetime, whispered a little voice.
Wanting to assert his position more, Gianni pointed out, ‘That may very well be the case but don’t forget that your own business will be reinvigorated by a new association with a luxury Italian brand of products, the first merger of its kind.’
O’Connor inclined his head with a spark in his eyes. He obviously didn’t like to be reminded that his motives weren’t exactly altruistic.
And then Gianni asked abruptly, ‘Why is it so important to you that marriage to your daughter is part of the deal?’
The spark in O’Connor’s eyes was quickly veiled as he said easily, ‘She’s our only child and heir. I’m an old-fashioned man, Delucca. I want her future to be secure, and through her and you, we keep our name alive.’
Gianni felt a niggle of suspicion but then something caught his peripheral vision and he looked past O’Connor to where a group of framed photos were hung on a wall. He walked over. There were pictures of O’Connor with various celebrities, including two American presidents, and then presumably his wife—an attractive woman with strawberry blonde hair and green eyes.
And below them all was an image of a young woman on a horse, head back and wide generous mouth open, clearly laughing. Slim shoulders. A snug T-shirt hugged generous firm breasts. He could just make out a narrow waist, gently flaring hips. Taut thighs. She was stunningly beautiful. Almond-shaped green eyes, lighter than her mother’s. Vibrant red hair pulled back into a messy ponytail. Pale skin with flushed rosy cheeks. Freckles.
Something deep in Gianni’s gut clenched at her unadorned beauty. Even though she wasn’t remotely his type.
He barely picked up on the faintly smug tone in O’Connor’s voice when the man said, ‘That’s my daughter, Keelin. So have you come to a decision?’
Gianni didn’t answer out loud. He didn’t need to. They both knew the answer.
Copyright © 2015 by Harlequin Books S.A.
ISBN: 978-1-472-09841-2
CLAIMED BY THE SHEIKH
© 2015 Rachael Thomas
Published in Great Britain 2015
by Mills & Boon, an imprint of Harlequin (UK) Limited
Eton House, 18-24 Paradise Road, Richmond, Surrey TW9 1SR
All rights reserved including the right of reproduction in whole or in part in any form. This edition is published by arrangement with Harlequin Books S.A.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, locations and incidents are purely fictional and bear no relationship to any real life individuals, living or dead, or to any actual places, business establishments, locations, events or incidents. Any resemblance is entirely coincidental.
By payment of the required fees, you are granted the non-exclusive, non-transferable right and licence to download and install this e-book on your personal computer, tablet computer, smart phone or other electronic reading device only (each a “Licensed Device”) and to access, display and read the text of this e-book on-screen on your Licensed Device. Except to the extent any of these acts shall be permitted pursuant to any mandatory provision of applicable law but no further, no part of this e-book or its text or images may be reproduced, transmitted, distributed, translated, converted or adapted for use on another file format, communicated to the public, downloaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of publisher.
® and ™ are trademarks owned and used by the trademark owner and/or its licensee. Trademarks marked with ®are registered with the United Kingdom Patent Office and/or the Office for Harmonisation in the Internal Market and in other countries.
www.millsandboon.co.uk
Claimed by the Sheikh Page 17