The Bride’s Proposition Page 2

  "Well, I'm in a position to see that your family gets its wish."

  "And all it's going to cost me is marriage to you?"

  "Exactly."

  "Why?"

  She left the chair with less than her usual care. To her distress, she found this an emotional issue, one she had difficulty articulating. How would a man like Stefano Salvatore understand what she'd come to realize was vital to her future ... not to mention her uncle's?

  "If you marry me, I'll sell you Janus Corporation at a rock-bottom price,"

  "Once again ... Why?"

  "Because marriage is the only way I'll receive full possession of my inheritance." She wandered through his sitting area, running her hand over a large, cushy couch and matching chair. The colors appealed, the warm earth tones accented by splashes of invigorating jewel colors. Realizing Stefano was patiently waiting for her to continue, she faced him from behind the comforting buffer of the furniture. "Until I'm either forty or married, my assets remain in my uncle's control."

  "So you want my help in staging a coup." His accent was back, a bit heavier this time and edgy with emotion. "At the great age of twenty-six, you've decided you can do a better job than your uncle, is that it?"

  She chuckled, a ridiculously deep, rumbling sound that would have been better suited to a large, bass-voiced man. It invariably provoked delighted laughter in response. But aside from a betraying twitch of his lips, Stefano remained silent. "No, I don't think I can do better than my uncle. Loren is an excellent businessman. In the years he's been managing my inheritance, it's grown tenfold."

  "Then why are you so anxious to take over?"

  She couldn't tell him that-at least, not the true reason. It would be inappropriate and quite likely unethical. She wandered to another section of his office, this one displaying a grouping of photographs. They were all family pictures and envy filled her. It would seem the Salvatores were as prolific as they were handsome. There were at least a half dozen men in a variety of shots, varying in age from their mid-twenties to mid-thirties. She scanned them swiftly. Stefano-dangerously charming smile in place-popped out at her from all the photos, far too many images for her own peace of mind.

  Penelope picked up one of the portraits and examined it. Oh, dear. Her vision was definitely playing tricks on her. She could swear that more than one Stefano grinned up at her. The odd warmth she'd experienced earlier returned with stunning impact. She wasn't interested in him as a man, she tried to tell herself. And yet ... What other explanation could there be for her peculiar reaction? She returned the frame to its former position with awkward haste. The metal frame clattered against the wooden table and she backed cautiously away. This was neither the time nor place for sexual attraction. To have it crop up with Stefano was as annoying as it was inconvenient.

  "You still haven't answered my question," he prompted.

  She cleared her throat. "I know."

  "Is it such a difficult one?"

  Taking a deep breath, she turned. He stood far too near. Thank goodness he wasn't destroying her concentration with a smile, though the intentness of those rich brown eyes disturbed her almost as much. He'd also doused himself with a delicious cologne. Well ... Perhaps "doused" overstated the fact considering how the light, spicy fragrance only teased her senses when he came uncomfortably close. If she wanted to complain about anything it should be about the height and breadth of him looming over her. Even covered by the civilized trappings of a business suit she could detect the subtle ridging along his shoulders and chest, warning of the hard muscular frame beneath. And this unsettling-not to mention gorgeous--example of manhood was the one she'd selected to marry. She almost groaned aloud.

  How disastrous.

  "Sometimes I have trouble putting all my cards on the table," she confessed, shifting to give herself a bit more room.

  He blocked her with a graceful twist of his body.

  "Try."

  "Okay."

  She eased past him and crossed to a large picture window overlooking the city of San Francisco. Ironically his office building faced her own, only the width of a city street separating them. He followed, crowding close once again, and she glanced over her shoulder in exasperation. Did this man have no sense of personal distance? Apparently not.

  "My father owned Crabbe & Associates. He was the one who built it up from a tiny firm to a rather impressive corporation. My uncle was his right-hand man. When my parents were killed in a small plane crash, Uncle Loren took over both me and the business."

  "How old were you?"

  "Ten."

  "But you said he's a good businessman?"

  "Oh, he excels at it."

  "Was he also a good parent?"

  She smiled at the hint of concern in Stefano's voice.

  Despite his hardness, a strong protective streak ran wide and deep through the man. She suspected it came from being part of such a large family. Having so many siblings to look after could account for his attitude toward her. "Uncle Loren's a bit gruff and was rather bewildered by everything involved in raising a little girl. But he loves me."

  "Then what's the problem?"

  "When my uncle took me in, he decided that I should learn about my inheritance and how Crabbe and Associates operated. So I began attending a few select board meetings."

  It didn't surprise Stefano that she'd dodged his question, despite her apparent directness. In the short time he'd known her, he'd discovered the delectable Ms. Wentworth didn't like discussing personal matters, Tough. She'd forced herself on him with her insane marriage proposal. That opened the door to any damn question he cared to ask. "Did you enjoy the meetings?"

  Her expression reflected sheer bliss, her entire body vibrating with the strength of her enthusiasm. "Yes, I did, much to my uncle's delight. It gave us something in common. As the years went by, I became more and more involved. I have a degree in business and international finance and have an active position on the board of both Crabbe and Associates and Janus Corp."

  He frowned. "I still don't-"

  "I've lived and breathed the corporate world for sixteen years now. That's long enough to know what I want from the businesses I own." Drifting from the window to his bookcase, she plucked free a heavy volume and flipped through it without any real interest. He suspected she was using it as an excuse not to look at him. Interesting. "It's time to point Crabbe and Associates in a new direction."

  "So you are intent on taking control away from your uncle." An inexplicable disappointment gripped him. "What makes you think I'd help?"

  She slammed the book closed and returned it to the shelf before facing him. She had the most unusual golden eyes he'd ever seen, as penetrating as they were disconcerting, a thick sweep of brown lashes adding to their allure. "Because you want Janus."

  "There's a lot of things I want in this world, Nellie."

  His voice hardened. "That doesn't mean I take them regardless of the consequences. Or did you think that 'unfortunate incident' as you phrased it earlier, might make me more susceptible to your offer?'

  She shot him another of the wide, appealing smiles he'd found so attractive. "The thought crossed my mind, although not for the reason you might think. I'm not propositioning you because I think you're unethical and therefore likely to go along with my plan. I'm propositioning you because this is the perfect opportunity to prove everyone wrong. To prove that you're an honorable man."

  Harsh lines scored his face. "You're so sure I am? Or is it that you haven't heard the stories?"

  "I've heard the stories."

  "Then what the hell are you doing here?'

  "I don't believe them," she replied with breathtaking simplicity.

  For a moment he could only stare. The air burned in his lungs, fighting for release. He exhaled roughly. "You don't-"

  "No."

  Suspicion was quick to override an irrational surge of hope-a hope he'd thought ripped from him long ago. "And how did you arrive at that brilliant deduction?"r />
  "I had you investigated."

  "If you had me investigated then how can you believe I'm-"

  She waved him silent with an imperious sweep of her hand. He let her get away with it. This time. "It doesn't take much analysis. The whole matter is quite logical. You were engaged to a Kate Bennett. Her family owned a small, but profitable company interested in picking up a lucrative contract with an overseas corporation. You played middleman, putting the deal together. Unfortunately the overseas corporation proved to be fraudulent, nothing more than a paper front."

  "You're not telling me anything I don't already know," he interrupted. "I lived it, remember?"

  She fixed him with an impassive stare, one Stefano suspected she'd cultivated over the course of her business career. No doubt it worked on most men. Unfortunately for her, he wasn't most men. "I'm recapping the points to put the entire story in perspective."

  "Sorry." His tone warned he was anything but. "Do continue.'

  "Where was I? Oh, yes. As a result of the scam, Ms. Bennett's family lost their collective shirts. Salvatores reimbursed the money the Bennetts lost, but it was too late. The damage had already been done. Though nothing could be proven, rumor cast you as the villain of the piece. The appearance of impropriety, you understand." She added the last comment with impressive delicacy. "In my opinion, that appearance was exacerbated when Ms. Bennett called off the engagement and Salvatores paid back the monies that were lost."

  "I understand all about the appearance of impropriety."

  "A shame really," she reflected, as though he hadn't spoken. "Since you weren't the guilty party."

  "Once again, Ms. Wentworth ... How would you know that? We used all of our contacts to try to uncover who was behind that dummy overseas company. We came up empty. What information did you uncover that we've been unable to?"

  "None."

  An irrational anger gripped him. "Then how can you believe I'm innocent?"

  "Because it doesn't make sense," she replied with a calm assurance that amazed him. No one other than his family had ever supported him with such absolute, blanket certainty. "There's no reason for you to cheat the Bennetts. In fact, you went out of your way to help them. Your engagement predated the business arrangement, therefore you didn't seduce her in order to buy her silence. You also aren't in financial difficulties. There was no overt need for you to steal. Not that people steal just for need. But as far as I've been able to determine, there's no underlying factor that would motivate your actions. To suddenly start stealing at this juncture doesn't make sense."

  "Your investigator told you all that?"

  "Some of it."

  "And as a result of his analysis, he decided I wasn't guilty?"

  She adjusted her glasses, the intensity of her huge golden eyes enhanced by the lenses. "Quite the contrary. He assumed you were guilty, the same as all the others. But he was wrong." She made a face. "I'm afraid he's not terribly logical."

  "Are you telling me that even though we've never met, even though all the evidence is stacked against me, even though your own investigator agrees with the general consensus as to my guilt...you don't?"

  Her lopsided smile flickered to life. "Exactly."

  "You don't seem to understand," He kept every scrap of emotion from his voice. "No one believes me except my family. Not friends who've known me all my life. Not business associates I've worked with for years. Not my former fiancée nor her family. No one."

  "I do,"

  He stared at her in utter disbelief. Her brilliant gaze held his, the sincerity in her eyes forcing him to realize the truth. She believed him. "You're serious."

  "Dead serious. And if you marry me, I'm hoping we'll have an opportunity to prove it."

  "How?"

  A small frown eclipsed her smile. "To be honest, I'm not sure. I thought we could work that out between us at a later date. Of course, marriage to me will help. Believe it or not, people trust me. If I say you're trustworthy, few will stand up and question my judgment."

  "And why's that?"

  She shrugged modestly. "Because I'm usually right. To be honest, I can't remember the last time I wasn't."

  "But, what if you're wrong?" He couldn't explain what drove him to ask the question. Still, he had to know. "What if I am a thief? What if you simply haven't discovered my particular motivating force?"

  Her deep laughter reached out to enclose him, her fine-boned stature at odds with the lush, full-bodied sound. The incongruity fascinated him. "I'll certainly look foolish, won't I? But I doubt that will happen. I trust my analytical skills and ability to formulate logical deductions.'

  "Very intimidating," he said dryly.

  She grinned. "But you're not intimidated, are you?"

  "Not even a little." He thrust a hand through his hair. "This is crazy."

  "I've caught you by surprise," she sympathized.

  "I'm afraid it couldn't be helped. I want to keep my proposition quiet."

  His eyes narrowed. "You still haven't told me why you've decided you should have control of Crabbe."

  For the first time since she'd walked into his office, her expression closed over. It made him realize just how open she'd been with him until that point. "I'm sorry, but I can't answer that question. There's more to the story than I can explain at this juncture."

  "Why doesn't that surprise me?"

  She tilted her head to one side, the light catching in the strands of her dark blond hair and highlighting the scattered threads of gold. "Should I assume your disapproval means you won't marry me?"

  "Of course I'm not going to marry you," he snapped.

  "Salvatores only marry for-"

  "Love?"

  Her voice had acquired far too gentle a tone, her keen gaze revealing entirely too much sympathy. "Non ne posso piu!" In fact, he'd had more than enough. "I no longer believe in that particular myth."

  "Then I don't understand the problem."

  He fought to control his temper, a fierce impatience straining it to the limits. "One near miss does not encourage me to make another."

  "I'm not asking for a permanent relationship, you understand.'

  "And I'm supposed to find that more attractive? A failed engagement followed by a failed marriage? That would sit well with my family. And it will do wonders for my reputation in the business community."

  "Oh, dear. I didn't think of that." Dismay bronzed the gold of her eyes. "I see your problem."

  "Good. Now let me counter your offer. Once you marry, drop by for a visit. I'd be happy to divest you of Janus Corporation."

  "What if that's the corporation my husband wants in exchange for marrying me?"

  "Is that likely?"

  She hesitated, catching a lush lip between her teeth.

  "Didn't I mention?"

  He released his breath in an impatient sigh. "Mention what?"

  "The next name on my list is your chief competitor."

  CHAPTER TWO

  STEFANO fought back a groan. Aw, hell. "Tell me you're not talking about Cornell."

  "If you mean Robert Cornell of Cornell Industries, International, then yes." Apparently Penelope Wentworth didn't see the need to pull her punches. "He's also single, in case you didn't know."

  Stefano gritted his teeth. "No, I didn't."

  "If it makes you feel any better, you're my first choice."

  "Lucky me."

  "As you know, if you owned Janus Corporation you'd have the majority interest along the West Coast." She pressed home her point. "Your import/export firm would be unrivaled."

  "Salvatore's is a little more than an import/export business.'

  She nodded impatiently. "I understand that you specialize in procurement of goods and services. As I mentioned, I had your company thoroughly investigated. The bottom line is this-you either acquire Janus or Cornell does. If Cornell gets it. .. " She shrugged. "I don't have to tell you what that would mean."

  "I'm well aware that your actions would have severe consequence
s on my family's business."

  "I'd think that would make your decision all the easier." Her smile turned mischievous. "Don't you think I'm the lesser of two evils?"

  He almost laughed, despite his predicament. "I think that sums it up perfectly."

  Her rumbling chuckle teased his senses again, at odds with her businesslike attitude. "Let me mention a few final details." She ticked off on her finger. "I won't inflict myself on you for long, I promise. And I wouldn't expect you to consummate the relationship. Nor do I plan to make any marital demands on your time. Does that help at all?"