The Bride’s Proposition Page 10

  His grin widened. "Yes, cara. I'm quite familiar with how slippery silk can be. It saddens me that you aren't."

  "I like cotton," she retorted defensively.

  "So I've discovered." His comment didn't go over well. Nor would his next, he suspected. "We'll have to see what we can do about that."

  "No, we won't. As of today you're to keep all silk and lace to yourself. Understood?"

  "Kinky."

  "Stefano!"

  "Oh, I understand that's what you'd prefer." He crossed the room to where her suit jacket lay puddled on the floor. "But that's not what's going to happen."

  She balked at his certainty. "And why not?"

  He snagged the jacket and held it for her so she could slip it on. "Because we've agreed to do everything we can to convince people we're now a couple. We were off to a great start right up until you assaulted my brother."

  "You promised to handle things my way."

  "No, I didn't. I promised you could be in charge of our marriage, not our romance. Face facts, Nellie. Now that you've announced to the world that Marco's been sending you silk undies, I'm going to have to work twice as hard to convince everyone that we're serious about each other. I won't have our relationship further compromised.'

  "That's not a problem. Anyone who sees me now won't be in any doubt as to my feelings for you." She glanced down at herself and winced. "Just look at me."

  "You look beautiful." And she did. Before him stood a passionate, vibrant woman, one moreover who'd been thoroughly savored in every sense of the word.

  "You've wrinkled me," she accused.

  He chuckled. "Never let it be said that a Salvatore doesn't give his all." She started to respond and he waved her silent "Relax, cara. You wear wrinkles well."

  "That's a matter of opinion."

  His laughter died, replaced by fierce desire. "My opinion is the only one that matters."

  She released her breath in an impatient sigh, but she didn't bother to argue further. "No more outrageous gifts, Stefano. We can convince people we're indulging in a torrid romance without draping my office with bras and thongs and other assorted lingerie. We can also do it without wrinkling me."

  "You want traditional gifts, is that it? Fine. You've got it. But I intend to wrinkle the hell out of you on a regular basis. No only is it my duty, it's my pleasure."

  She didn't trust the gleam in his eyes. He was planning something and she had a sneaking suspicion she wouldn't like whatever it was. Or maybe she'd like it too much-a far more dangerous proposition. "Perhaps you should run your ideas by me before acting on them."

  He folded his arms across his chest. "I don't think so."

  "It would be safer."

  "Don't even go there, Nellie. I'll let you control a lot in our relationship, but be careful how far you push. You may get more than you bargained for."

  "Let me guess. That's not a threat, it's a promise. Right?"

  "Do you doubt it?"

  He hadn't moved a muscle and yet Penelope found herself backing away. Masculine aggression had never bothered her, she'd been around it for too many years. But something about Stefano resonated within, sparking off her most feminine facets, like light refracting off a polished gemstone. He had the power to bring her to life, to expose her-the depth and richness and clarity, as well as the flaws. He saw too much, could elicit far more than she cared to give.

  Worse, she'd overlooked or ignored the sheer power of the man, both physical and intellectual. It came as a distinct shock to realize that it wasn't a force she could easily handle. She could only hope that his own self-control kept those forces in check. Because she'd already discovered how difficult they were to contain once released.

  "Now that we've gotten everything straightened out, I'm going," she announced.

  His eyes held her, eyes that saw too much. She took another step backward and a knowing smile cut across his face. ''We will finish this conversation," he said. "You realize that? And when we do, it won't be in an office setting. It'll be someplace private where we won't be interrupted until we're through and I've proven my point."

  She lifted her chin and lied with aplomb. "I look forward to it."

  If she stayed any longer she'd lose more than she could hope to win. Turning, she left his office and walked toward the elevators, head held high. It might be a retreat, but it would be a dignified one. She stabbed the elevator button. Instantly she thought of a thousand comments she could have made. Devastating remarks and logical arguments. When she returned to her office, she'd write them all down. That way she'd be prepared next time he swept her into his arms and kissed her senseless.

  She attempted to smooth a few of Stefano's wrinkles with only limited success. If only she hadn't responded on a physical level. It would have resolved everything. Darn it! She stabbed at the call button again. Where was the elevator?

  "Impatient to leave?"

  She swiveled and glared at Stefano. "Don't start with me. I think you've done quite enough for one day."

  "Excuse me?"

  "Oh, don't give me that innocent look." Perhaps in the few seconds she had available before the elevator arrived she could put a few of those arguments she'd come up with to good use. ''You seem to think that all you have to do is touch me and I'll do whatever you want. Well, you're wrong and I'm going to prove it."

  She marched over to him, grabbed him by the lapels of his suit jacket and yanked him downward to a reachable level. Before he had time to take charge of their latest embrace, she planted her mouth on his and kissed him for all she was worth. Then she let go and stepped back, not giving any inconvenient chemistry an opportunity to kick in. Not that it did.

  She straightened her cockeyed glasses. "There. See? Nothing. Not a twinge of pleasure."

  "I'm pleased to hear it," a voice gritted from behind her. "I'd be a little upset if my future bride enjoyed kissing my brother more than she enjoyed kissing me."

  Oh, no! Not again. Penelope risked a quick glance over her shoulder and shuddered. Stefano did not look happy. In fact, she suspected they were about to have another "discussion" and this one would no doubt end far differently than the first. To her everlasting relief, the elevator pinged and the car doors opened. She plunged inside and stabbed at the button for the lobby.

  "I have only one thing to say, Stefano Salvatore," she announced as the doors started to close.

  "That's about a thousand things fewer than I have."

  Her mouth slanted into a wry smile. "No doubt."

  "Go on, cara. You're dying to tell me something. Say it. "

  "Thank heaven you're not a triplet." And with that, the doors slid closed.

  ****

  Penelope's gift to Stefano arrived by the end of the day.

  "Aren't you going to open it?" Marco asked his brother.

  Stefano studied the box suspiciously. "I'm almost afraid to."

  "You think this present is her way of getting even for what you sent?"

  "Oh, no question."

  "Come on," Marco goaded with a grin. "Open it and let's see how bad it is."

  Stefano picked up the box. It was much larger than the one he'd sent Penelope and definitely heavier. It also rattled. What had his sweet fiancée sent him? He ripped off the wrapping paper and removed the lid. Inside were a half-dozen smaller gifts, all individually wrapped. He picked up the first, a long triangular object. Peeling off the paper he uncovered a brass name plate for his desk.

  Marco choked on a laugh. "Well, that's one solution. Though if she wants it to do any good, you'll have to hang it around your neck."

  "This is getting ridiculous," Stefano bit out. "How on earth am I going to convince anyone we're in love if she keeps mistaking us? And stop laughing! She kissed you thinking it was me. That's not even a little funny."

  Marco sighed. "It was just a quick one. It barely even qualified as an actual kiss. And she said herself-she didn't feel a thing."

  "That's supposed to make me any happier?"
<
br />   "It could have been worse. What if she'd enjoyed it?"

  "I suspect Hanna would have had something to say about it."

  "Oh, Hanna has plenty to say. None of it polite enough for me to repeat." Marco peered into the box. "What else did Penelope send?"

  Stefano removed the next box and ripped it open.

  Inside he found a gold key ring with his name spelled out. His anger faded, replaced by amusement. The next package contained a tie clip, the one after that a pen, then a briefcase, followed by a pair of suspenders. Every last one was embossed with his name in huge, gold lettering.

  He began to chuckle, "It would seem Nellie has a sense of humor:' It pleased him no end. He didn't think he could deal with a woman without one. He'd discovered that unfortunate fact during his engagement to Kate Bennett.

  "There's still one more gift." Marco poked at it.

  "Care to guess what it'll be?"

  "Whatever it is, I'll lay odds it has my name on it."

  "I think that's pretty much a given."

  Stefano ripped open the last package and chuckled softly. His laughter grew in volume as he removed the pair of boxers he found inside, his name stamped across the backside in huge black lettering. "One hundred percent cotton," he informed his brother with a grin. "That's my bride-to-be. A cotton sort of woman."

  "I take it you plan to get even?"

  "Count on it." He swiveled to face the windows, eyeing Penelope's building. "Though not, I think, with this next one. I promised my bride-to-be a traditional sort of gift and that's precisely what I intend to give her."

  He was curious to see how his rational, practical, logical Penelope responded.

  ****

  Stefano's gift to Penelope arrived first thing the next morning. She took one look inside the box and fell instantly in love-a perfectly rational, practical, logical response to what she found there. Or so she'd swear with her dying breath.

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  STEFANO stormed off the elevator, intent on getting hold of his soon-to-be fiancée and kissing some sense into her. Cindy stood up as he approached Penelope's office. Taking one look at his expression, she ducked down and hid behind her computer monitor, typing frantically.

  He thrust open the office door and slammed it behind him. To his astonishment, Penelope lay on her couch, a man in a white lab coat fanning her with a towel. "What the hell...?"

  "Are you a doctor?" the man asked nervously. "I think she's all right. She just passed out. It happens sometimes."

  "Nellie?" Acute concern overrode his anger and he started for the couch. "Cara? What has happened to you? Why did you faint?"

  Before he could reach the couch, a tiny orange fur ball leapt into his path, arching its spine and hissing at him. Penelope jerked upright. "Be careful! Don't step on Honor."

  "Honor?"

  "The kitten you sent. That's his name. It's short for Honorable." She smiled tentatively. "It seemed appropriate, somehow, considering who'd given it to me."

  It took an instant for the full implication to sink in. When it did, Stefano closed his eyes, fighting for control. Honorable. Did Penelope have any idea what her choice meant to him? To his astonishment, he found he couldn't respond to her explanation, the words catching in his throat. Desperate to give himself a moment to regain his composure, he scooped up the marmalade and crossed to the couch, perching on the arm. Taking his time, he tickled the belly of the animal and was rewarded for his efforts by a loud rumbling purr. The sound held an uncanny resemblance to his bride-to-be's chuckle, Stefano realized, amused.

  "Do you like my gift?" he finally managed to ask.

  Her face lit up, leaving him in no doubt that she adored the kitten. "You couldn't have picked anything nicer. Thank you."

  "My pleasure." The cat curled all four paws around his hand, hooking needle-sharp claws into his flesh. Then, still purring, it gnawed on his finger. Stefano could swear he saw a smug expression gleaming in the animal’s amber-colored eyes. He sighed in resignation. Little beast. "Before we discuss the gift you've given me in return, tell me what happened. Why did you faint?"

  Her face paled slightly. "It was the pop."

  "Pop?"

  "When Daniel pierced my ear. I didn't realize it would ... " She swallowed. "That it would make such a terrible sound."

  She'd caught him by surprise. "You're having your ears pierced?"

  "Just the one, so we'll match." She frowned. "You didn't think I was going to make you do it unless I was willing to, as well?"

  "I assumed your ears were already pierced."

  "I never saw the need. Well ... Until I decided you should have one done." She lifted a hand to her earlobe, concealing her wince behind a brave smile. "It doesn't hurt too much anymore. How about you?"

  "That's why I'm here." Honor gave up ravaging his hand and squirmed for release. He set the kitten down on the couch. It scrambled over Penelope's legs and curled up on her chest. Clearly the cat he'd chosen had excellent taste. He wouldn't mind curling up there himself. Stefano glanced at Daniel. "Would you excuse us, please? My fiancée and I would like to discuss the situation before proceeding further."

  "Of course." The technician addressed Penelope. "Should I call a doctor?"

  "That's not necessary." Her gaze turned to Stefano and she smiled happily. "I'll be fine now."

  The minute they were alone, he addressed Penelope.

  "Why did you want me to get my ear pierced?" He fought to keep his tone neutral. "I don't suppose it has anything to do with your effort to tell me from my brother?"

  "No!" She jerked upright, tumbling the kitten to her lap. With a horrified gasp, she gathered up the bit of fluff and cuddled it close. Instead of ripping her to shreds it proceeded to lick every inch of bare skin it could reach. "No, that wasn't it at all."

  "In that case," he said. "I have a confession to make."

  She shifted to make room for him on the couch, drawing her legs beneath her. "Go for it."

  "I was very angry when I came here."

  Penelope nodded sagely. "Ah. That explains Honor's reaction when you walked in the room. A testosterone to testosterone moment."

  Stefano plucked the mewling fur ball from her grasp and studied it with a skeptical expression. "Somehow I doubt that."

  Her brows drew together in confusion. "I don't understand. Why were you angry? Because you thought my ear-piercing gift was a clever way to tell you from Marco?"

  "Yes." He captured her chin in his palm and tilted her head slightly, studying the gold earring she wore. Damn, but it looked painful. "My apologies, cara," he offered gently. "I see I was mistaken. Instead of being clever and logical about the situation, you were being sweet and romantic."

  "There's no need to be insulting," came her indignant protest. "I was not being any such thing. And I resent you suggesting otherwise."

  "Let me guess. That's why you're wearing an earring that's half a heart, right? Because you're being logical?"

  Her mouth formed a stubborn line. "Exactly."

  "And I assume if I'd allowed my ear to be pierced, I'd be wearing the other half of the heart?"

  A hint of uncertainty crept into her expression. "You don't like it, do you? You think it's a terrible idea."

  "I think it's a brilliant idea," he corrected. He set the kitten on the floor and gathered her close. "And as soon as I tell you how much, I'll have Daniel come in and take care of my ear, too."

  Relief caused her eyes to glitter like gold. "Fair warning. Watch out for that pop. It's a killer."

  "I appreciate your concern."

  Her breath trembled between them. "How much do you appreciate it?" she whispered.

  He answered by taking her mouth in a slow, leisurely kiss. She shivered in delight, opening to him with unrestrained passion. The intensity of her response never failed to amaze him. He'd never encountered such sweet generosity in a woman, an openness that ignited a raw intensity within himself, an elemental drive to take and conquer. He knew it was
n't considered politically correct, but when he held her in his arms, all thought deserted him but one-to possess. To brand her with his taste and scent and touch. To make her his own in the most basic way possible.

  He deepened the kiss and she drank him in, catching his lower lip and tugging gently. With a soft laugh, he returned the favor, exploring the lush swell of her mouth with his tongue and inhaling her passion-laden moan. She fumbled with the buttons of his shirt, and he couldn't help wondering if she was even aware of her actions. She didn't seem to be the last time.