The Bride’s Proposition Page 15

  He brushed a lock of hair from her face, the gesture unexpectedly intimate. "What about taking care of you?"

  "I'm used to working for my living." She laughed, the sound empty of humor. "Though I doubt anyone will hire an executive officer who managed to ruin her family’s business the minute she got her hands on it. Do you?"

  "I already told you. This isn't your fault."

  "Maybe not. But it's my responsibility."

  Stefano sighed. "I apologize, Nellie. I promised to protect you and I've let you down. I knew Cornell would make good on his threat. But instead of going after him and finding out what he planned, I waited."

  "You couldn't have known he'd do this."

  "Maybe not." Stefano's mouth tightened. "But he's made one mistake. A big one."

  "And what mistake is that?"

  "No one harms what belongs to me. He'll pay for what he's done. I'll see to it personally."

  She stirred uneasily. "I don't belong to you."

  "Don't you?" His dark eyes gleamed with amusement. "After what happened last night, after all that was said between us this morning, you can still think that? Do you even realize that you almost knocked Marco over trying to get to me a few minutes ago? There's only one explanation for that. You know. You feel the difference between us now. You and I belong to each other."

  He'd alarmed her again, just as he had this morning.

  "How many times do I have to say it? Our marriage is not real," she retaliated. "In fact, if this new offer works out and I sell Crabbe and Associates, we won't need to maintain even that fiction."

  "Our marriage is not fiction." His accent was stronger than she'd ever heard it, underscoring his fury. "The vows we spoke were sacred."

  She pulled free of his arms, determined to put some distance between them. "They were also supposed to be temporary. We agreed to that."

  "And what about the other promise you made? Or will that be broken, as well?"

  "If you're referring to restoring your reputation, we don't have to be married to accomplish that."

  Without a word, he stood and crossed the room to stand by the windows. Light surrounded him like a halo, flashing in the darkness of his hair and emphasizing the intense pitch-black of his suit. Very gently he set his empty whiskey tumbler on his desk, then turned to face her. His features were thrown into shadow, making it impossible to read his expression.

  "It's clear you've thought this through. What are your plans, Penelope?"

  She froze. He'd called her Penelope again. It was only the second time he'd ever done that. She fought a rush of dread. Why should she be so worried? She wasn't attached to Stefano. Not really. They shared an enjoyable physical relationship and that was all. If they parted, she'd regret it, but life would continue. Wouldn't it?

  "I'm going to schedule a meeting with Obit and see if selling Crabbe is feasible," she informed her husband.

  "And then?"

  "Stefano, please. We don't need to decide this now."

  "I think we do." He folded his arms across his chest.

  "What happens after you've sold out."

  She flinched at his phrasing. "Then I'll do everything I can to prove your innocence."

  "What about us?"

  "We'll ..." She moistened her lips. "We'll do the sensible thing. We'll separate."

  "Very logical."

  "I warned you I was," she said, desperation creeping into her voice. "This can't come as a surprise to you."

  He shook his head, the movement infinitely weary. "You've picked the damnedest time to start acting logical, my love. I just hope you don't regret your choice." He crossed to his office door and opened it. It was clear their discussion was over. "Call me when you've scheduled the meeting with Obit."

  She stood, startled to discover that her legs were reluctant to support her. "You want to attend?"

  "Not only do I want to attend, but I also want your assurance that you won't conduct the meeting without me by your side." He waited until she'd drawn level to him before sliding a hand across her cheek. "Do this one thing for me and I won't ask for anymore."

  She inclined her head in agreement. "All right. I'll let you know as soon as the arrangements have been made."

  The open doorway yawned before her. She glanced at Stefano. Always before he'd kissed her whenever they'd parted. A part of her longed for that kiss, but one look warned it wasn't to come. Setting her chin, she forced herself to walk out the door.

  "One more thing, Mrs. Salvatore."

  She swung around with embarrassing eagerness.

  "Yes?"

  "About that other promise. I wasn't referring to your restoring my reputation. I was referring to a promise you made last night." His gaze held hers, fierce with determination. "It's a promise I intend to hold you to."

  ****

  Stefano stood at his office window and stared across the street toward Crabbe and Associates. Dammit all! He slammed his fist against the shatter-proof glass. He'd pushed too hard, too soon, forcing emotions on her that she wasn't ready to accept. He'd also forced her to confront her own emotions, something she really wasn't ready to accept. And as a result his darling wife had flat-out panicked. Worse, she'd turned tail and run.

  He'd thought after they'd made love that she'd face the truth, that the bond between them would break through her fear. That she'd realize that her emotions weren't something to avoid, but to embrace. For one brief moment, she'd done just that. And then morning had come and she'd launched a full-scale retreat.

  The irony drove him insane. Everything she did, every decision she made came from the passionate core within her. Not that she could see that. She'd spent too many years believing herself cool, analytical and logical. But she wasn't. She was a woman made for love. His love. All he had to do was prove that to her.

  Stefano splayed his hand over the glass and stared hungrily across the street. Come back to me, Nellie. I love you.

  Penelope stood at her office window and stared across the street toward Salvatores. Darn it! She leaned her forehead against the shatter-proof glass. She'd sure handled that brilliantly, hadn't she? He'd pushed too hard, too soon, forcing emotions on her that she wasn't ready to accept and she'd panicked. Worse, she'd turned tail and run. And all because he'd made such a big deal about her newfound ability to tell him from Marco.

  So they'd made love. And right after that she'd known-with a visceral certainty-which of the two men was her husband. Well, what did he expect? It was bound to happen eventually. It didn't mean they'd forged any sort of mystical, emotional connection. Did it? The whole incident was perfectly logical, attributable to her analytical skills and deductive reasoning.

  Plus the fact that she loved him.

  Penelope fought to breathe, to think, to acknowledge any sort of sensory input other than that one startling discovery. Staring in disbelief, she stepped back from the window. After all her fiery denials, after all her talk of lust over love, somehow she'd done the unthinkable, she’d allowed her heart to overrule her head.

  She loved him!

  The more she thought about it, the more positive she became. Just repeating the words brought with them a bone-deep certainty, a rightness, such as when she evaluated a problem and deduced the perfect solution. Or when she negotiated a contract and all the pieces came together in a perfect whole. How could she have been so blind? It was so obvious. So logical. So eminently rational. It made perfect sense, considering Stefano's charm and grace and integrity. It would have been strange if she hadn't fallen in love with him. Nor could she have given herself to him if she hadn't been in love.

  Relief surged through her. She didn't need to be afraid or shy away from emotions that were so reasonable. Stefano was an honorable man. He'd never hurt her. He'd promised to protect her and that meant he'd even protect her from himself. If he said he loved her then she could trust him to love her for all the days of her life. She nibbled on her lower lip. Now she faced one small problem. How did she fix what had gone s
o terribly wrong between them? After the way they'd parted, how in the world did she tell him that she'd suddenly discovered she loved him?

  And then she remembered her wedding night promise-and that he planned to hold her to that promise. A lopsided grin broke across her face and she stared out the window with renewed determination. There was one thing she could do. She could get rid of Crabbe. And maybe she could even get the facts necessary to restore his reputation. With those goals accomplished there wouldn't be anything else standing between them, at least no business reasons for their marriage to continue. Then she'd have a chance of convincing him that she loved him and only him.

  Penelope splayed her hand over the glass and stared hungrily across the street.

  Hang on, my love. I'm coming.

  CHAPTER TEN

  "READY?" Stefano asked.

  Penelope nodded. "As ready as I'll ever be." She hesitated, aware that it was much too soon to say anything about her recent discovery, but unable to help herself. "After this is over, we need to talk."

  "You're damned right," her husband concurred in a grim voice.

  Cindy peeked into the conference room. "The people from Obit are here. Shall I send them in?"

  Penelope nodded. "Yes, please." The sooner the better.

  "Prepare yourself," Stefano muttered.

  Before she could ask what he meant, a man stepped over the threshold-the last man she'd expected or ever wanted to see. Robert Cornell.

  He smiled expansively at them. "Why, hello, Penelope, Salvatore. I did warn we'd meet again."

  Years of practice came to her rescue. She didn't miss a beat, but accepted his comment with calm acknowledgment. "So you did. I shouldn't be surprised to see you here. But I am."

  "Your husband isn't."

  She turned and looked at Stefano, registering the truth for herself. A hint of vulnerability betrayed her before she could suppress it. "Cornell's right. You're not surprised, are you?"

  "No," Stefano admitted.

  She started to speak, then broke off, switching her attention back to Cornell. "Excuse us, won't you? My husband and I need to confer."

  "I suspected you might." He took a seat at the head of the table and made himself comfortable, eyeing the room with a proprietary air. "Don't take too long, though. I'm not a patient man."

  Head held high, Penelope led the way from the conference room to her office. Once there she turned on him. "How could you? You knew Cornell was behind the offer, didn't you?"

  "I suspected."

  "Why didn't you warn me?"

  "Because I couldn't prove anything." He smiled dryly. "Cornell is a tough man to pin down. You should know that by now. I could have been wrong and I didn't see any point in getting you upset over something that might not happen. Now that the worse has been confirmed, we can deal with it."

  "I won't sell to him!"

  "I was hoping you'd say that. In fact, you don't have to sell at all."

  She paced the length of the room. "I should allow Crabbe to go bankrupt instead?"

  "Bankruptcy is not the inevitable outcome, Nellie," he argued. "You're part of the Salvatore family now. We can help you hold Crabbe together until you're ready to take over or until the business is rebuilt enough to market for something approaching its true value."

  A frown formed between her brows. This wasn't what she'd planned. She wanted to end all business ties between them, not create more. "But what about your reputation? If you and your brothers step in to help, people will say you deliberately released the information about Loren so you could take control of my firm."

  He shrugged. "It's already being said. Time should put an end to the speculation."

  "Not if Cornell keeps spreading rumors. And not if he finds another way to get at us."

  "With luck he'll grow bored and turn his attention elsewhere."

  She regarded him with a skeptical expression. "He won't give up if he's as vindictive as you believe."

  "Come on, Nellie. Don't let him take your company." Stefano held out his hand. "Let's throw him out together."

  Before she could respond, Cindy walked in. "Excuse me, Mrs. Salvatore. I have papers related to the sale ready for you to sign. Shall I notify your lawyer to come in?"

  Penelope hesitated. "If I sell to Cornell, he gets everything," she said, working it through aloud. "If I don't sell to him, I risk bankruptcy and he still accomplishes his goal. Either way, your reputation is in shreds."

  "To hell with my reputation! What happens to me isn't the issue."

  "It is the issue to me." She reached a decision. "No. I can't walk away. Not until I force Cornell to admit the truth. Chances are good that I'm going down. There's not much I can do about that. But I can still help you."

  "Dammit, Nellie." He thrust his hand through his hair, annoyance glittering in his dark gaze. "Why doesn't it surprise me that you'd end up making this choice, particularly considering it's the least reasonable of all your options? Please, cara. Be sensible. Trying to salvage my reputation isn't worth losing Crabbe over."

  She brushed that aside. "Don't be ridiculous. I never do anything unless it's both reasonable and sensible."

  She switched her attention to her assistant. "Cindy, get the papers."

  "Your lawyer has asked to be present when you sign."

  "Then send him in."

  Mr. Wilfred entered the room a moment later. He nodded at Stefano and took up a stance by Penelope's desk. "You're certain you want to give up your rights, Mrs. Salvatore?"

  "Quite certain."

  "Please read the papers before signing," he instructed.

  "No need. I read everything earlier."

  "Mrs. Salvatore, I strongly urge-"

  She cut him off impatiently. "There's no time, Mr. Wilfred. I promise you. I did read them very carefully earlier."

  Cindy placed a thick stack of papers on Penelope's desk and handed over a pen. She ruffled through the contract and pointed. "Sign here and here."

  "Nellie-" Stefano began again.

  "I have a plan," she interrupted, hastily scratching her signature across the pages. "I think we can salvage the situation. But you have to trust me."

  He removed his suit jacket and tossed it over the back of a nearby chair. Approaching the desk, he rested his hip on the corner. "I trust you with my life. You must know that by now."

  Penelope paused long enough to smile up at him. She'd been so foolish running from her feelings for Stefano. He meant everything to her. And shortly she'd prove it. "I do know you trust me. And I appreciate it very much."

  "Do you also trust me?" he asked.

  She didn't hesitate. "Of course. But that doesn't have anything to do with my plan."

  "What plan?"

  "Sign here, Mrs. Salvatore," Cindy interrupted.

  "And then initial each page."

  Penelope obediently applied herself to the task while continuing to address Stefano. "I think I can get Cornell to confess to what he's done."

  He caught her hand and drew it away from the contract. "How?"

  "Let me get these signed and I'll tell you."

  "Nellie, you're moving too fast. Tell me your idea first. Then if you're still determined, you can sign the papers."

  A glimmer of amusement lit her face. "You mean if you don't succeed in talking me out of it first?"

  His mouth twitched. "That, too."

  She put down her pen. "Okay. Here's the plan. Our boardroom has a video camera tucked away in one corner. Very unobtrusive. You wouldn't even see it unless you knew to look there. We use it during our meetings to make a record of our discussions in case any questions arise later. I'm going to have Cindy activate the camera. Then I'm going to get Cornell to confess before selling Crabbe and Associates."

  "And if he won't?"

  "We'll just have to make sure he does." She signed the last of the pages and shoved the documents across the desk to Cindy. "I made a promise to you, Stefano. I told you I'd restore your honor and that's precisely
what I intend to do."

  Stefano glanced at the lawyer and Cindy, jerking his head toward the office door. They took the hint and left. The minute he was alone with his wife, he gathered her into his arms. "Don't you understand? You restored my honor weeks ago. You did that when you walked into my office and proposed. You were the only one outside of the family who believed in my innocence. And you've continued to believe even when all the evidence indicated I was guilty."