Table of Contents
Cover Page
Excerpt
Dear Reader
Title Page
Dedication
Dearest Reader
Books by Marie Ferrarella
Books by Marie Ferrarella writing as Marie Nicole
1
2
3
4
5
6
7
8
9
10
Epilogue
Copyright
Mama Tripopulous on How to Hook a Husband
My Demetria, she thinks she knows what the world is about. She works so hard, day and night, to keep the restaurant going. But when it comes to her love life, she has a lot to learn. Back in my day…Oh, well. Lucky for her, Jared Panetta is a persistent young man. I knew the first time he walked in the door that he was the one for my Demi. If only she weren’t so stubborn!
But who knows? Maybe a little hard to get is good. Jared seems to be enjoying the challenge. And I can see all the signs—those two are in love up to their elbows! Maybe things are going better than I’d thought. Now where did I put that wedding cake recipe…?
Dear Reader,
I remember when I first discovered Greek food. I was in college, and there was a Greek restaurant one door down the street from my apartment. The moment my boyfriend took me there and bought me my first souvlaki, I was in love. Not with him, mind you. (That—foolishly!—came later.) With souvlaki. And moussaka. And pastitsio. Not to mention baklava. I continue to love Greek food to this day, so it’s no mystery to me why Jared Panetta, who first encounters Demi Tripopulous when he wants to buy the family restaurant, should not only fall in love with Demi’s Greek delicacies but with the woman herself. Soon enough, he’s making her The Offer She Couldn’t Refuse. And for your sake, I hope you don’t refuse this newest delight from award-winning author Marie Ferrarella.
Of course, you also shouldn’t miss Christie Ridgway’s latest: Ready, Set…Baby! There’s just something about a marriage-of-convenience plot that I can’t resist. And luckily for readers everywhere, heroine Katie McKay is equally unable to resist hero Seth Cooper. And it’s not just the baby on the way making her feel romantic—it’s the man himself. He’s a winner—and so is this book.
I hope you enjoy both these wonderful novels, and I also hope you’ll come back next month for two more wonderful Yours Truly books all about unexpectedly meeting, dating—and marrying!—Mr. Right.
Yours,
Leslie J. Wainger
Senior Editor and Editorial Coordinator
Please address questions and book requests to:
Silhouette Reader Service
U.S.: 3010 Walden Ave., P.O. Box 1325, Buffalo, NY 14269
Canadian: P.O. Box 609, Fort Erie, Ont. L2A 5X3
The Offer She Couldn’t Refuse
Marie Ferrarella
To Daddy,
who refused to let me
into his kitchen
(and forced me to learn how
to cook the hard way)
Dearest Reader,
I’ll be the first to admit that I have trouble letting go of things. Not as much trouble as my daughter, who, if not for me, would still have every single stuffed animal she’d ever received and every single shred of wrapping paper it came in. But I do like to hang on to things. This could possibly explain why I’m still married to the same man I fell in love with in high school. It also explains why I felt that I had to give Demi her own special romance after introducing her just in passing in The 7lb., 2oz. Valentine. I gave a small supporting character (Guy Tripopulous) a warm family, and they in turn needed their own stories. That’s the thing about nice people—you want to see them happy. Although the restaurant kept her more than busy, Demi needed someone special to hold and to hold her. But since she lived and breathed work, she wasn’t likely to find anyone on her own unless he waltzed into the restaurant, which is just what happened.…
If this story gives you a little pleasure, consider it a hug from me to you.
Love,
Books by Marie Ferrarella
Silhouette Yours Truly
?The 7lb., 2oz. Valentine
Let’s Get Mommy Married
Traci on the Spot
Mommy and the Policeman Next Door
**Desperately Seeking Twin…
The Offer She Couldn’t Refuse
Silhouette Romance
The Gift #588
Five-Alarm Affair #613
Heart to Heart #632
Mother for Hire #686
Borrowed Baby #730
Her Special Angel #744
The Undoing of Justin Starbuck #766
Man Trouble #815
The Taming of the Teen #839
Father Goose #869
Babies on His Mind #920
The Right Man #932
In Her Own Backyard #947
Her Man Friday #959
Aunt Connie’s Wedding #984
?Caution: Baby Ahead #1007
?Mother on the Wing #1026
?Baby Times Two #1037
Father in the Making #1078
The Women in Joe Sullivan’s Life #1096
?Do You Take This Child? #1145
The Man Who Would Be Daddy #1175
Your Baby or Mine? #1216
**The Baby Came C.O.D. #1264
Silhouette Special Edition.
It Happened One Night #597
A Girl’s Best Friend #652
Blessing in Disguise #675
Someone To Talk To #703
World’s Greatest Dad #767
Family Matters #832
She Got Her Man #843
Baby in the Middle #892
Husband: Some Assembly Required #931
Brooding Angel #963
?Baby’s First Christmas #997
Christmas Bride #1069
Wanted: Husband, Will Train #1132
Silhouette Desire
?Husband: Optional #988
Silhouette Intimate Moments
*Holding Out for a Hero #496
*Heroes Great and Small #501
*Christmas Every Day #538
Callaghan’s Way #601
*Caitlin’s Guardian Angel #661
?Happy New Year—Baby! #686
The Amnesiac Bride #787
Serena McKee’s Back in Town #808
Fortune’s Children
Forgotten Honeymoon
Silhouette Books
Silhouette Christmas Stories 1992
“The Night Santa Claus Returned”
? Baby’s Choice
? The Baby of the Month Club
* Those Sinclairs
** Two Halves of a Whole
Books by Marie Ferrarella writing as Marie Nicole
Silhouette Desire
Tried and True #112
Buyer Beware #142
Through Laughterand Tears #161
Grand Theft: Heart #182
A Woman of Integrity #197
Country Blue #224
Last Year’s Hunk #274
Foxy Lady #315
Chocolate Dreams #346
No Laughing Matter #382
Silhouette Romance
Man Undercover #373
Please Stand By #394
Mine by Write #411
Getting Physical #440
1
“…And in conclusion, I am sure we can arrive at an amount that will prove to be mutually satisfactory to all parties involved.”
“Mutually satisfactory, my foot.” Why was she even bothering to waste her time reading this condescending garbage through to the end?
A
ngry with herself and the sender, Demetria Tripopulous balled up the letter between her hands and tossed it toward the wastepaper basket in her small office. Even at close range, the uneven ball skimmed against the rim and then landed on the floor beside the basket.
“You missed.”
Startled, she whirled around in the swivel chair that, along with the desk, basket and file cabinet, took up all the available space within the windowless office. She didn’t have to look to know who it was. Guy, making one of his pit stops. Normally, though she made a point not to admit it, she welcomed the sight of her older brother. But today she wasn’t feeling particularly friendly.
With a careless shrug, Demi rose to her feet “Some of us didn’t have time to shoot baskets after school when we were in high school.” Picking up the letter, she threw it in the trash. “Some of us had a sense of responsibility and went to help out where we were needed.”
The jab was unfair and she knew it. It was choice more than duty that had had her putting in more hours at the family restaurant than Guy. He’d been an allaround athlete who’d had legitimate demands on his time. And he’d had dreams that took him beyond the kitchen and the tables out front.
Her dreams were all bound up here.
To each his own, she supposed.
“Aw, give it a rest, Demi.”
Sergeant Augustus. “Guy” Tripopulous’s mouth curved in tolerant affection as he leaned a shoulder against the doorjamb of the tiny room that was no bigger than a large cubicle. From within this room, his grandfather, then his father, had run the family restaurant. Now the ball had appropriately been passed to Demi, bypassing Guy to his eternal, undying relief. Demi was a lot better at this sort of thing than he was. But it had taken the combined persuasive powers of both of them and Theo, their grandfather, to convince their father that there was no shame in letting a female member of the family take over and run the restaurant. So far, Demi had done a better job than either one of her predecessors.
She was upset, he thought, recognizing the signs, and wondered what was up. He knew better than to ask. Demi didn’t like being—as she called it—“interrogated.” She either volunteered the information on her own or remained silent on the subject. He wasn’t about to get his head bitten off.
The more easygoing of the two, Guy drawled, “You know, you’ve been playing that old tune so long, it’s ready to collect Social Security.”
She pushed past him into the kitchen, her mind still on the letter. Who the hell did this Winfield character think he was, trying to buy her out?
Demi didn’t spare Guy a glance as she crossed to the large oven, but she knew her brother had followed her. She also knew without looking that the baklava was ready. Walnut this time. She nodded to her cousin George, silently reminding him to take the pastry out.
“So, did you stop by to harass me?” She debated putting on a fresh apron and decided against it. Lena would be back soon. She glanced toward the rear door leading to the alleyway. Hopefully. “Slow day on the streets, Sergeant Tripopulous?” A smile rose to her lips as George took out the baklava. Perfect. Every one of them.
“I stopped by to get one of these.” With fingers accustomed to skimming things off a hot baking sheet, Guy plucked a prize up for himself, then passed it back and forth between his cupped hands until it cooled sufficiently for him to pop it into his mouth. He’d had a weakness for baklava ever since he was a small boy, and Demi made the best around. “And a little friendly conversation.”
Demi shook her head. How could he bear to eat something so hot? The man had a mouth made out of asbestos. Still, she liked watching his reaction. It was as close as he came to giving her a compliment. She’d taken a treasured family recipe and improved on it, adding her own special twist. The result was, to quote one of her friends, “a bit of heaven that was to die for.”
Guy closed his eyes, savoring the taste as it melted into his tongue and slid down his throat. He sighed, content, then opened his eyes again.
“Good thing the food’s sweeter than you are.” He dusted off his hands as he followed her through the swinging door out into the dining area. “I have a few things I need to ask Theo. He around?”
The question was rhetorical. Demi wondered why he even bothered asking. Their grandfather was where he had been every afternoon for the last fifteen years.
“Back booth, frowning over his next move.” She didn’t bother pointing. Guy knew the way blindfolded and spun around like a top. They’d both grown up here. Every memory worth having was tied up somehow to this small square footage.
Demi could do with a little of that laid-back attitude that Theo had adopted, Guy mused. The old man would probably outlive them all, he thought fondly. Debating, he stole a tiny mint chocolate wrapped in green foil from beside the register. These, too, were made on the premises. “Game progress any?”
Demi laughed shortly. “No one’s made a move in so long, the pieces are collecting dust.” This time she did gesture toward the rear of the restaurant. Her grandfather and one of the restaurant’s oldest customers, his best friend, Alex, sat in the last booth, embroiled in a chess game as if the fate of the world depended on the outcome. “Look at them. They look like they’re posing for a still life.”
She could remember her grandfather moving around the kitchen like a short, squat bull, ordering his wife, daughter-in-law and sister around like a dictator who hadn’t quite decided whether or not he wanted to be thought of as benevolent. He’d had the place running like clockwork. There’d always seemed to be people everywhere back then. Sometimes they’d had to turn patrons away because there hadn’t been enough room to seat them all. She missed those days, Demi thought. Missed just being able to watch and know that everything was all right because someone else was taking care of it.
Now it was she who had to take care of everything, to keep everything moving along through good times and bad. There were times…
The hell with waiting for Demi to tell him what was eating her. Guy got into his sister’s face, hoping to catch her off guard. “You’re even testier than usual, Demi. Anything wrong?”
It was on the tip of her tongue to snap at him, to say that he had picked a fine time to get interested in the business. But he wasn’t interested in the business—he was interested in her, and she knew it. Chagrined at her reaction, she banked it down and shrugged, then wove her fingers through the black hair that rioted around her face like a dark storm.
“The rats are creeping out of the woodpile.”
They had neither a woodpile nor rats, but pointing that out would only irritate her further. Guy knew the value of silence in his line of work. The suspect usually talked if given enough of an opportunity to unburden himself.
His question had made her think of the letter, and Demi became angry all over again. The gall, the unmitigated gall of them, to think that she’d sell something that had her family’s sweat and tears in it. “It seems we’ve caught the eye of Winfield, Inc.”
Guy folded his arms in front of him and gave her his undivided attention. “The restaurant chain?” Why would the fast-growing local organization contact them? Her restaurant certainly wasn’t doing enough business lately to merit attention. Demi didn’t talk about it, but every time he had dropped by in the last couple of months, about half the booths and tables were empty. Of course, they’d had slumps before and always managed to come back stronger than ever. Maybe that was what Winfield had in mind.
Demi barely nodded. She didn’t like this feeling; it was as if she were suddenly under siege. It was bad enough that the bills were mounting up. “It seems they want us to become ‘part of the family.’”
Their late father had been quite vocal about what he thought of the organization that was bent on building a restaurant monopoly in the county. The tirade had been long and wordy, and none of it pleasant. He’d been gone for over a year now, but the sentiment still held.
“Family of what, sharks?” Guy asked.
The furrow i
n the middle of her brow softened as she looked at her brother. He was older, but she’d always felt responsible for him. That was part of her problem, she supposed. She felt responsible for everyone. “Nice to know we agree on some things.”
“Did they quote a price?”
One of the bulbs along the wall was out, she noticed. She had to see about getting that replaced before they were officially serving dinner. Romantic was one thing, dim was another.
Absently Demi shook her head. “No, they said something about negotiating and arriving at a settlement ‘mutually satisfactory’ to both of us.” Demi looked at him sharply as the question solidified in her mind. “Why? Would you be interested if they had?”
He knew that tone. If it had belonged to a marksman, it would have come a moment before a rifle was discharged at a target. “Just curious.”
“Well, stuff it,” she told him tersely. “Nobody’s getting this place.”
It’d been a hard morning for him, following on the heels of a hard night. The twins both had bad colds, which meant that neither he nor Nancy had gotten a lot of sleep. He’d come in to face a mound of paperwork he’d been putting off. He wasn’t at his best right now and Demi’s mood wasn’t helping.
Guy looked around. The restaurant could do with a coat of paint and a couple of the booths needed to be reupholstered. Not to mention that the mural depicting the Olympic Games could stand to be touched up and refreshed. He thought of the outstanding tabs on accounts that were kept open, accounts belonging to people his father had carried from time to time, and his father before him. Extending credit to people down on their luck was almost a family tradition. And though Demi would rather die than admit it, business was down of late, and it was taking its toll on her.
He was thinking more of her than the restaurant when he said, “Yeah, real slice of heaven, this place.”
The Offer She Couldn't Refuse Page 1