Harlequin Romance September 2021 Box Set

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Harlequin Romance September 2021 Box Set Page 18

by Andrea Bolter


  “You’ll soon see.”

  She turned to him. Her expression was very serious. “We don’t have time for distractions. We have to get the papers signed and then we have to get straight to work. I have to let my key people know that we’re shifting gears and focusing full-time on our collaboration.”

  “That can wait for a day.”

  “No, it can’t—”

  “Yes, it can.” He could hardly believe he was saying these words. And all this time his family had accused him of being a workaholic. Obviously they didn’t know Carla very well, or they might realize that she definitely outdid him.

  “Franco, if we’re going to make this all work out in time, we can’t waste a moment.”

  “But for any of it to work, we must marry—”

  “Quickly and without fuss—”

  “Aw...but you forget that your father needs to believe in this marriage—a marriage to a Marchello. You know as well as I do that he’s going to fight this marriage. If we aren’t careful, he’ll prove us frauds, and then our agreement will be null and void.”

  Her mouth opened. No words came out. Then she pressed her lips together with a deep sigh. “Fine. What do you have in mind?”

  “You’ll see. Trust me.”

  “That’s the problem,” she said. “I don’t trust you.”

  He let out a laugh. The truth was that he didn’t trust her, either. It definitely wasn’t the correct way to start a marriage. But then again, this was a business partnership. And when it came to business agreements, there was always a bit of distrust. So the way he saw it, they were okay with this. But as they headed out of the city, he realized there was one other thing they needed to deal with sooner rather than later.

  He swallowed hard. “There’s something else we need to do to seal the deal.”

  Carla turned to him with concern reflected in her eyes. “Do I even want to ask what you’re referring to? Because if this is about consummating our marriage—”

  “It’s not, I assure you.” Though that’s one part of the day that might be quite enjoyable. As soon as the thought came to him, he dismissed it. Blurring lines between business and pleasure was never a good idea.

  He pulled off to the side of the road. He reached in his pocket and pulled out the ring. There was a distinct gasp from Carla. He glanced at her, but she wasn’t looking at him. Her full attention was focused on the ring in his hand.

  “If we are going to do this right—” his voice wobbled, at least to his ears “—we need to be properly engaged. So... Carla Falco, will you marry me?”

  Her gaze flickered to meet his. He could see the wheels of her mind spinning. He hadn’t thought this would catch her so off guard. Didn’t all women look forward to receiving a diamond ring? Her gaze moved back to the ring, but she didn’t reach for it.

  “Go ahead. Take it.” He moved it closer to her. “It won’t bite you. I promise.” When she still didn’t reach for it, he said, “You know you have to play the part, just like I do.”

  At last she took the ring from him and slipped it on her finger. “I guess you’re right.” She held up her hand, letting the light twinkle off the diamond. “It’s very pretty.”

  “It was my great-grandmother’s ring.”

  “Oh.” She quickly pulled it off and handed it back to him. “I can’t accept this, even on a temporary basis.”

  “I want you to wear it.” And then realizing how that might sound, he clarified himself. “I mean my grandmother expects my wife to wear the ring. If you don’t, everyone will wonder why you don’t have it on. Do you really want to answer those questions?”

  “No. I suppose not.” She placed the ring back on her finger. “But it’s going to make me very nervous. What if I damage it?”

  “You won’t.”

  “But I might.”

  “It’ll be okay because I have no intention of using the ring for a real marriage, so no one will know.”

  “I’ll know.”

  They continued to ride on quietly, each lost in their own thoughts. What had sounded like a good idea at one point—a means to an end—was now sounding so much more involved with so many entanglements. He couldn’t help but wonder what details he’d forgotten about for this big day. He’d just have to hope they wouldn’t be big enough to be noticed by anyone—including their families.

  * * *

  It had been a week of negotiations.

  A week of hammering out the details of their future.

  If Carla had any doubts about proposing a marriage between herself and Franco, those doubts were quickly quelled. Nothing about this upcoming marriage felt personal in the least. Her gaze strayed to the heirloom diamond ring on her finger. Okay, maybe it was a little personal.

  The thought that her father’s reckless disregard for his own health had pushed her to this drastic decision hadn’t gone unnoticed. Though she was very upset with him, her concern about his teetering health trumped everything. And so she would go through with this crazy plan.

  She leaned back against the buttery-soft black leather of the chauffeured sedan. She glanced over to Franco. A large gap yawned between them. She took comfort in knowing that he wasn’t any more anxious for this union.

  And though when they’d first met she’d thought he was attracted to her, she now realized it must have all been in her imagination. Because ever since she’d proposed to him, he’d kept a respectable distance from her.

  This was going to work out just the way she’d planned. Still, the thought of a loveless marriage left her saddened. Call it the romantic in her or maybe she’d read one too many romance novels, but she’d been under the illusion that marriage was supposed to be about love. Nothing could be further from the truth where they were concerned.

  But without emotional entanglements, she’d be able to focus her full attention on the family business. That was what she wanted after all. She just had to keep that in mind.

  Carla turned her attention back to the passing scenery. “Where are we going?”

  “You’ll like this. Just relax,” Franco said.

  Carla sighed. The truth was she couldn’t relax. She’d barely slept a wink the night before. She’d watched infomercials, thinking they’d bore her to sleep. No such luck. She’d tried chamomile tea. Nothing. At last, she’d lain in the dark, tossing and turning. Sometime in the middle of the night, she’d nodded off. She wondered if all brides were this nervous.

  Not that this was a real wedding. It wasn’t like she had feelings for Franco. Though he was gorgeous. He was so serious most of the time.

  She chanced a glance at Franco. He was staring out the window. And then he consulted his Rolex. He was probably wondering how soon this wedding would be over so he could get on with his business.

  But what would he be like if he were marrying for love? Would his sole focus be on his bride? Would he be able to think of anything else but spending every waking moment with his beloved? An uneasy feeling churned in the pit of her stomach.

  She let out a soft sigh and turned away. It wasn’t like she wanted him to look at her that way. She knew how fleeting love could be. And when things fell apart, it was messy and painful. She refused to set herself up to be hurt again.

  Just outside the small village of Gemma, where her cousin lived, the car slowed and turned into a short drive. It led them up to a stately house that sat right on the edge of Lake Como. The house appeared to be three stories with tall windows. She didn’t recognize it.

  She turned to Franco. “What are we doing here?”

  “I thought it’d be a good place to have a wedding.”

  As the car pulled around to the front of the villa, she caught a quick glimpse of the lush garden bordering the lake. Her attention turned to the impressive villa. It had floor-to-ceiling windows, allowing a picturesque view of the lake.

 
Whoever owned this villa was most fortunate. She couldn’t even imagine how much a house in this stunning setting would cost. Though she’d always thought her father had the most beautiful house in the Lake Como region, she had to admit that this house definitely rivaled it. No, it surpassed it in size, location and sheer beauty. What a place for a wedding.

  “Who owns this place?” Carla asked.

  “I do. Now that my brother lives here, I wanted to have a place close by.”

  “It’s beautiful.”

  Standing off to the side of the driveway was a stylish young woman with a digital notepad clutched in her arm. A smile lit up her face as she looked expectantly at Carla. Who was she? Carla glanced over at Franco, waiting for some sort of explanation.

  “Go ahead,” he said. “Everything is waiting for you.”

  “Everything?” She didn’t know what to expect.

  He lowered his voice so as not to be overheard. “We both know this has to look real or else your father isn’t going to believe it.”

  She opened her mouth to argue but then wordlessly closed it. As much as she hated it, Franco was right.

  “I’ve seen to all the details, including a few guests as well as my brother and your cousin.”

  “You invited them, too?” she whispered. “But why? Couldn’t you have just invited people from your office?”

  “You do want people to believe this marriage is real, right? Isn’t that the only way your agreement with your father will be ironclad?”

  “Yes, but...” Her frantic thoughts were fragmented. “This...it feels wrong. We invited everyone under false pretenses.”

  “You don’t think they’ll be excited by the surprise wedding?”

  She frowned at him. “That’s not what I mean. They’ll assume that you and I...that we’re...”

  “In love? I know.” His hushed tone was matter-of-fact.

  “And it doesn’t bother you?”

  He shrugged. “I guess I’m just used to people making assumptions about me.”

  This stirred her interest. “What sort of assumptions?”

  This time he glanced away. “All sorts of things. That I’m a bloodthirsty businessman. That I ran off my father so I could assume the CEO position.”

  “But that’s ridiculous. He left when you were just a little kid.” When Franco’s surprised gaze turned her way, she realized she’d overstepped. “I’m sorry. My cousin told me a little of Dario’s background, which is also your background.”

  Understanding flashed in his eyes. “Anyway, people are going to think what they want, but in the end, I think our families will understand that we did what we thought was best for everyone.”

  She had her doubts. “I really hope you’re right.”

  He reached out and gave her hand a quick squeeze. “It’s going to be okay.”

  She wanted to believe him. This was her one chance to get her stubborn father to do the right thing—hand over the reins to the company so he could get his strength back. And whether she wanted to admit it or not, it was the right thing for her, too.

  Her gaze searched his. She’d had no idea Franco would go to these lengths. But why shouldn’t he? He had a lot riding on this wedding. The entire future of his company was on the line.

  “I don’t know if I can do this,” she whispered.

  “Sure, you can. Everything is in motion. All you have to do is act like the loving fiancée.”

  “Everyone thinks we’re in love?” When he nodded, she asked, “Even your assistant?”

  “Most especially her.”

  “Why?”

  “Because she is our front person. She has to legitimately be able to sell our whirlwind love story to the guests.”

  “You mean my father?”

  He nodded once more. “I don’t think your father is going to be happy about you marrying a Marchello.”

  “No, he won’t. He wasn’t happy when my cousin married your brother. He’ll be furious about our marriage.”

  “But your agreement with him didn’t say whom you had to marry, so we’re good.” His gaze searched hers. “Do you think you’ll be able to pull this off?”

  Part of her said that it was too much, but the other part of her—the business part of her—said she could do this if it meant saving her father from himself.

  “Yes.” Her answer was soft but firm, even if all the while her stomach roiled with nerves.

  “Relax. It’s all been arranged. I’ll see you shortly.” And with that he walked away with an older woman who wore a dark skirt suit with her dark hair pulled up in a bun.

  Carla wasn’t sure what to expect. When she’d initially broached the subject of marriage, she’d expected something quick, efficient and businesslike. But this lakeside villa was so far from anything she’d had in mind. This was the setting for a real wedding. Not what they were about to do.

  Still, as the young woman continued to stare at her with that plastered-on smile, Carla had no choice but to step out of the car and find out what Franco had in store for her.

  Carla approached the young woman. “Hello. I’m Carla Falco.”

  “Oh, I know who you are. I’ve seen your photo on the internet. It’s an honor to meet you.” The young woman’s face filled with color. “I can’t believe I got to plan your wedding. We better hurry inside before the guests begin to arrive.” The young woman set off down the stone walk toward the large double doors of the villa.

  It was true. Carla was in the news quite often, as she sat on many charity boards. And lately, her father’s health scare had propelled them into the headlines. The public had a vested interest in the welfare of Falco’s Fresco Ristorantes.

  What in the world had Franco planned? It really seemed like a lot of trouble for a fake wedding. Well, it would be real on paper, but still, it wasn’t like they were in love or anything. But she had to admit that her curiosity was piqued, and so she followed along.

  CHAPTER FOUR

  “WHAT ARE YOU DOING?”

  It was the same question Franco had been asking himself ever since he’d agreed to Carla’s absolutely off-the-wall idea. And what made him think a brief marriage—a marriage based on a mutually beneficial business arrangement—would end any better than his parents’ painful and disastrous divorce?

  His gaze focused on his younger brother, Dario. There was expectation on his face. If he couldn’t get his brother to believe in this marriage, what chance did he have of convincing anyone else? Still, he had to do his best.

  Franco raked his fingers through his hair. “I’m getting married.”

  Dario moved to stand in front of him. His gaze searched his face. “You don’t look like a man anxious to walk down the aisle.”

  Franco attempted a reassuring smile, but catching his reflection in the mirror, he realized his smile ended up as some distorted look that was more a frown than a look of happiness. He glanced away. “It...it’s complicated.”

  “She’s pregnant, too?” Dario’s eyes widened.

  “No!” Franco’s voice thundered through the room. He swallowed hard and then lowered his voice. “Wait. You said too.” It took him a second to string his thoughts together. “Are you saying Gianna is pregnant?”

  Dario smiled and seemed to stand a bit taller. “She is.”

  “Congrats!” Franco hugged his younger brother and clapped him on the back. “That’s awesome.”

  “Thanks. It is pretty great.” Dario wore a big, happy grin. But then he sobered up. “But we’re talking about you and Carla. Are you sure—”

  “I’m sure she’s not pregnant. You know I wouldn’t let that happen.”

  Relief reflected in Dario’s eyes. “I should have known after what you went through with Rose that you would be extra cautious. But sometimes things happen.”

  Franco tried to block Rose from his th
oughts, because every time he thought of her, he once again grew angry at her deception. Rose had lied to him about being pregnant, knowing he could never turn his back on a child of his own. In the end, it’d all been a ploy to get him to marry her. And after a fake pregnancy test, she’d almost snared him into a loveless marriage. But when he’d insisted on a second test with his doctor, the truth came tumbling out.

  “Carla is nothing at all like Rose,” he ground out.

  “I didn’t mean to imply that she was.”

  “Good.” Franco began to pace the floor, feeling like a caged animal.

  “I’m no expert on marriage, even if I am married. But I’m just going to put this out there—marrying the woman you love shouldn’t be complicated. It should be all about you and her and being anxious to share your life with her.”

  Franco’s head snapped back around to look at his brother. “I can’t believe you said that. I thought you were the one who was totally opposed to marriage.”

  Dario shrugged. “What can I say? Gianna changed my mind.”

  “Apparently. But what you two have, well, it isn’t the same with Carla and me.”

  Dario’s dark brows furrowed together. “How is it, then?”

  Franco hesitated. It was on the tip of his tongue to tell his brother everything. But then he recalled promising Carla that he’d keep this all to himself. It was the only way this was going to work.

  “It’s just nerves.” Franco’s tone was firm.

  Dario reached out and gripped Franco’s shoulders. “Listen, if you aren’t sure, back out now. It’ll be best for the both of you—”

  “No. This is what’s best.” He pulled free from his brother’s hold. He turned away from Dario’s concerned look. It’s what was best for his family’s future. It’s what was best for Carla’s very stubborn father. It’s what was best for their respective businesses. “Trust me.”

  Silence filled the room, and for a moment all Franco could hear was the pounding of his heart echoing in his ears. In all his life, he never imagined that he’d be standing in this position. Today was his wedding day—a wedding to a woman he didn’t love and who didn’t love him.

 

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