Kitabı oku: «The Sicilian's Marriage Arrangement», sayfa 2

CHAPTER TWO

LUCIANO’S head snapped up at the sound of Joshua Reynolds’ humor-filled voice and reality came back with a painful thud. Hope was still clinging to him, her expression dazed, but the rest of the room was very much aware. And what they were aware of was that he’d been caught kissing the host’s granddaughter like a horny teenager on his first date with an older woman.

He set Hope down with more speed than finesse, putting her away from him with a brusque movement.

She stared up at him, eyes darkened with passion and still unfocused. “Luciano?”

“Didn’t know you two knew each other so well.” A crafty expression entered Reynolds’ eyes that Luciano did not like.

“It is not a requirement to know someone well to share a New Year’s kiss,” he replied firmly, wanting to immediately squelch any ideas the old man might have regarding Luciano and Hope as anything other than passing acquaintances.

“Is that right?” Reynolds turned to Hope. “What do you say, little girl?”

Hope stared at her grandfather as if she did not recognize him. Then her eyes sought out Luciano once again, the question in them making him defensive.

He frowned at her. “She is your granddaughter. You know as well as anyone how little I have seen of her over the years.” His eyes willed Hope to snap out of her reverie and affirm his stand to her grandfather.

At first, she just looked confused, but then her expression seemed to transform with the speed of light. She went from dazed to hurt to horrified, but within a second she was doing her best to look unaffected.

It was not a completely successful effort with her generous lips swollen from the consuming kiss.

She forced a smile that hurt him to see because it was so obviously not the direction those lips wanted to go. “It wasn’t anything, Grandfather. Less than nothing.” She spun on her heel without looking back at Luciano. “I’ve got to check on the champagne.” And she was gone.

He watched her go, feeling he should have handled that situation better and wishing he’d never come to the party in the first place.

“It didn’t look like less than nothing to me, but I’m an old man. What do I know?”

The speculative tone of Joshua Reynolds’ voice sent an arrow of wariness arcing through Luciano. He remembered the gossip he had overheard earlier. Rumors often started from a kernel of truth. The old man could forget trying to buy him as a husband for his shy granddaughter.

She might kiss with more passion than many women made love, but Luciano Ignazio di Valerio was not for sale.

He had no intention of marrying for years yet and when he did, it wouldn’t be to an American woman with her culture’s typically overinflated views on personal independence. He wanted a nice traditional Sicilian wife.

His family expected it.

Even if kissing Hope Bishop was as close to making love with his clothes on as he’d ever come.

Hope slammed the door of her bedroom behind her and then spun around to lock it for good measure.

It was after three o’clock and the last guest had finally departed. She’d made herself stay downstairs for the remainder of the party because she was guiltily aware her grandfather had arranged it for her benefit rather than business. He’d said as much when he told her he planned to have a New Year’s Eve bash at the Boston mansion.

She wished he had not bothered. At least part of her did. The other part, the sensual woman that lurked inside her was reveling in her first taste of passion.

Luciano had kissed her. Like he meant it. She was fairly certain the whole thing had started as a pity kiss, but somewhere along the way, he’d actually gotten involved. So had she, but that was not so surprising.

She’d wanted to kiss the Sicilian tycoon for the better part of five years. It had been an impossible fantasy…until tonight. Then a combination of events had led to a kiss so devastating, it would haunt her dreams for years to come.

She plopped down onto the side of her bed and grabbed a throw pillow, hugging it to herself.

He had tasted wonderful.

Had felt hard and infinitely masculine against her.

Had smelled like the lover she desired above all others.

And then he had thrust her from him like a disease ridden rodent. She punched the cushion in her lap. He had been enjoying the kiss. She was sure of it, but then her grandfather had interrupted and Luciano had acted embarrassed to be caught kissing her.

Okay, maybe it did nothing for his sophisticated image to be caught taking pleasure in the kiss of an awkward twenty-three-year-old virgin who never dated. But surely it wasn’t such a tragedy either. Not so bad that he had to shove her away like something he’d found under his shoe in a cow pasture.

The tears that had seemed to plague her for one reason or another all evening once again welled hot and stinging in her eyes. He’d made her look like a complete fool. She’d been forced to smile while cringing inside at the teasing and downright ribald comments tossed her way for the last three hours.

People were saying that she’d thrown herself at him. That he’d had to practically manhandle her to get her off of him. That as desperate spinsters went, she had won the golden cup.

Wetness splashed down her cheeks.

She’d heard it all while circulating among the guests. People had gone out of their way to speak loudly enough so she could not help overhearing. Some had made jokes to her face. A few of the male guests had offered to take on where Luciano had left off.

Grandfather remained blissfully ignorant, having closeted himself in the study with a businessman from Japan after the official New Year’s toast. If she had anything to say about it, he would remain that way.

Luciano, the rat, had left the party within minutes of his humiliating rejection of her.

Even the joy of being kissed with such heady abandon by the one man she had ever wanted could not overshadow her degradation at his hands in front of a room filled with her grandfather’s guests. She hated Luciano di Valerio. She really did.

She hoped she never saw him again.

“The shares are not for sale.”

Luciano studied the man who had just spoken, looking for a chink in the old man’s business armor, but Reynolds was a wily campaigner and not a speck of interest or emotion reflected in his gray eyes.

“I will pay you double what you gave my uncle for them.” He’d already offered a fifty-percent return on investment. To no avail.

Reynolds shook his head. “I don’t need more money.”

The words were said with just enough emphasis to make a very pertinent point. Whatever Joshua Reynolds wanted in exchange for those shares, it wasn’t money and he could afford to turn down Luciano’s best offer.

“Then, signor, what is that you do need?” he asked, taking the bait.

“A husband for my granddaughter.”

Impossible! “Che cosa?”

Joshua leaned back in his chair, his hands resting lightly on his oversize executive desk. “I’m getting on in years. I want to make sure I leave Hope taken care of. Regardless of what young women these days believe, and young men when it comes to it—that means seeing her married.”

“I do not think your granddaughter would agree with you.”

“Getting her to agree is your job. The girl doesn’t know what is best for her. She spends all her free time working for the women’s shelter, or the local animal shelter, or doing things like answering phones for the annual MDA telethon. She’s a worse bleeding heart than her grandmother ever was.”

And it was unlikely she found the slightest understanding from the ruthless old bastard sitting across from Luciano. “Are you saying that Hope doesn’t know you’re trying to buy her a husband?”

“I’m not interested in discussing what my granddaughter knows or doesn’t know. If you want those shares, you’re going to have to marry her to get them.”

The shares in question were for the original family-held Valerio Shipping, a company started by his great-grandfather and passed through each successive generation. While it rankled, having a nonfamily member holding a significant chunk of stock was not the end of the world.

He stood. “Keep the shares. I am not for sale.”

“But Valerio Shipping is.”

The words stopped Luciano at the door. He turned. “It is not. I would never countenance the sale of my family’s company.” Although his interests in Valerio Shipping represented a miniscule portion of his business holdings, his family pride would never allow him to offload it.

“You won’t be able to stop me.”

“My uncle did not hold majority stock in the company.” But the fool had sold the large block he had held to Joshua Reynolds rather than approach his nephew when gambling debts had made him desperate for cash.

“No, but with the proxy of some of your distant cousins as well as the stock I have procured from those willing to sell, I do control enough shares in the company to do what I damn well please with it.”

“I do not believe you.” Many of those distant cousins had emigrated, but he could not believe they were so lost to family pride as to give an outsider their proxy or worse, sell their portion of Valerio Shipping to him.

His uncle he could almost believe. The man was addicted to wine, women and casinos. He had the self-discipline of a four-year-old and that was probably giving the man more credit than he deserved.

Reynolds tossed a report on the desk. “Read it.”

Luciano hid his mounting fury as he crossed the room and then lifted the report to read. He did not sit down, but flipped through the pages while still standing. Outraged pride grew with each successive page and coalesced into lava like fury when he read the final page.

It was a recommendation by Joshua Reynolds to merge with Valerio Shipping’s number one competitor. If that were not bad enough, it was clear that while the other company would maintain their business identity, Valerio Shipping would cease to exist.

He tossed the report onto the gleaming surface of the walnut desk. “You are not trying to buy Hope a husband, you are trying to blackmail one.”

Reynolds shrugged broad shoulders, not even slightly stooped by his more than seventy years. “Call it what you like, but if you want to keep Valerio Shipping in the di Valerio family and operating business under the Valerio name, you will marry my granddaughter.”

“What is the matter with her that you have to resort to such tactics to get her a husband?”

For the first time since Luciano had entered the other man’s office, Reynolds’ guard dropped enough to let his reaction show. Luciano’s question had surprised him.

It was in the widening of his eyes, the beetling of his steel gray brows. “There’s nothing wrong with her. She’s a little shy and a bleeding heart, I admit, but for all that she’ll make a fine wife.”

“To a husband you have to blackmail into marriage?”

In many ways, he was a traditional Sicilian male, but Joshua Reynolds made Luciano look like a modern New Man. Hope’s grandfather was more than old-fashioned in his views. He was prehistoric.

“Don’t tell me, you were waiting for love eternal to get married, man?” Derision laced Reynolds’ voice. “You’re thirty, not some young pup still dreaming of fairy tales and fantasies. And you’re plenty old enough to be thinking about a wife and family. Your own father is gone, so cannot advise you, but I’m here to tell you, you don’t want to leave it too late to enjoy the benefits of family life.”

Not only did Luciano find the very idea of taking advice from a man trying to blackmail him offensive, but Joshua Reynolds was the last person to hand out platitudes about enjoying family life. He’d spent his seventy plus years almost completely oblivious to his own family.

“I’m offering you a straightforward business deal. Take it or leave it.” The tone of Reynolds’ voice left no doubt how seriously he felt about following through on his threats.

“And if I leave it my family company ceases to exist.”

The other man looked unconcerned by the reminder. “No company lasts forever.”

Gritting his teeth, Luciano forced himself not to take the other man by the throat and shake him. He never lost control and he would not give his adversary the benefit of doing so now.

“I will have to think about it.”

“You do that and think about this while you are at it. My granddaughter left two weeks ago for a tour of Europe in the company of four other girls, a tour guide and five young men. Her last letter mentioned one of them several times. David something or other. Apparently, they are developing quite the friendship. If you want Hope to come to the marriage bed untouched, you’d better do something about it soon.”

Hope peered through the viewer of her state-of-the-art digital camera that had been a parting gift from her grandfather before her trip. She knelt down on one knee, seeking the perfect shot of the Parthenon in the distance. The waning evening light cast the ancient structure in purplish shadows she had been determined to catch on disc.

It was a fantastic sight.

“It’s going to be dark before you get the shot, Hope. Come on, honey, take your picture already.” David’s Texas drawl intruded on her concentration, making her lose the shot she’d been about to snap and it was all she could do not to ask him to take himself off.

He’d been so nice to her over the past three weeks, offering her friendship and a male escort when circumstances required it. She’d been surprised how at ease she’d felt with the group right off, but a lifetime of shyness did not dissipate overnight. Feeling comfortable had not instantly translated into her making overtures of friendship. David had approached her, his extroverted confidence and easy smile drawing her out of her shell.

Because of that, she forced back a pithy reply, despite her surge of unaccustomed impatience. “I’ll just be a second. Why don’t you wait for me back at the bus?”

“I can’t leave my best girl all by herself. Just hurry it up, honey.”

She adjusted the focus of her camera and snapped off a series of shots, then stood. Interruptions and all, she thought the pictures were going to turn out pretty well and she smiled with satisfaction.

Turning to David, she let that smile include him. “There. All done.” She closed the shutter before sliding her camera into its slim black case and then she tucked that into her oversize shoulder bag.

“Okay, we can return to the bus now.” She couldn’t keep the regret from sliding into her voice. She didn’t want to leave.

David shook his head. “We’re not scheduled to go back to the hotel for another twenty minutes.”

“Then why were you rushing me?” she demanded with some exasperation.

His even white teeth slashed in an engaging grin. “I wanted your attention.”

She eyed the blond Texan giant askance. In some ways he reminded her of a little boy, mostly kind but with the self-centeredness of youth. “Why?”

“I thought we could go for a walk.” He put his hand out for her to take, clearly assuming her acquiescence to his plan.

After only a slight hesitation, she took it and let him lead her away from the others. A walk was a good idea. It was their last day in Athens and she wanted this final opportunity to soak in the ambience of the Parthenon.

David’s grip on her hand was a little tight and she wiggled her fingers until he relaxed his. She was unused to physical affection in any sense and it had taken her a while to grow accustomed to David’s casual touching. In some ways, she still wasn’t. It helped knowing that he wasn’t being overly familiar, just a typical Texas male—right down to his calling her honey as often as he used her name.

She stopped and stared in awe at a particularly entrancing view of the ancient structure. “It’s so amazing.”

David smiled down at her. “Seeing it through your eyes is more fun than experiencing it myself. You’re a sweet little thing, Hope.”

She laughed. “What does that make you, a sweet big thing?”

“Men aren’t sweet. Didn’t your daddy teach you anything?”

She shrugged, not wanting to admit she couldn’t even remember her father. She only knew what he looked like because of the pictures of her parents’ wedding her grandfather had on display in the drawing room. The framed photos showed two smiling people whom she had had trouble identifying with as her own flesh and blood.

“I stand corrected,” she said. “I won’t call you sweet ever again, but am I allowed to think it?”

The easy banter continued and they were both laughing when they returned to the tour bus fifteen minutes later, their clasped hands swinging between them.

“Hope!”

She looked away from David at the sound of her name being called. The tour operator was standing near the open door of the bus. She waved at Hope to come over. A tall man in a business suit stood beside her, dwarfing her with his huge frame. The growing darkness made it difficult to discern his features and Hope could not at first identify him. However, when he moved, she had a moment of blindingly sure recognition.

No one moved like Luciano di Valerio except the man himself. He had always reminded her of a jaguar she’d once seen in a nature special when she was an adolescent, all sleek, dark predatory male.

David stopped when they were still several yards from the bus, pulling her to a halt beside him. “Is that someone you know?”

Surprised by the aggressive tone in her friend’s voice, she said, “Yes. He’s a business associate of my grandfather’s.”

“He looks more like a don in the Mafia to me.”

“Well, he is Sicilian,” she teased, “but he’s a tycoon, not a loan shark.”

“Is there a difference?” David asked.

She didn’t get a chance to reply because Luciano had started walking toward them the moment David stopped and he arrived at her side just as David finished speaking. Regardless of her wish to never see the man again, her eyes hungrily took in every detail of his face, the strong squarish jaw, the enigmatic expression in his dark brown eyes and the straight line of his sensual lips.

“I have come to take you to dinner,” he said without preamble or indeed even the semblance of having asked a question.

“But how in the world did you come to be here?” Bewilderment at seeing him in such a setting temporarily eclipsed her anger toward him.

“Your grandfather knew I would be in Athens. He asked me to check on you.”

“Oh.” Ridiculously deflated by the knowledge he was there under her grandfather’s aegis rather than his own, she didn’t immediately know what else to say.

David had no such reticence. “She’s fine.”

The comment reminding her of not only his presence, but her manners as well. “Luciano, this is David Holton. David, meet Luciano di Valerio.”

Neither man seemed inclined to acknowledge the introduction.

David eyed Luciano suspiciously while the tycoon’s gaze settled on their clasped hands with unconcealed displeasure. Then those dark eyes were fixed on her and the expression in them was not pleasant. “I see you have decided to go for option two after all.”

At first, she couldn’t think what he meant and then their conversation in the library came back to her. Option one had been a husband, she supposed. Which meant that option two was a lover. He was implying she and David were lovers.

Feeling both wary and guilty for no reason she could discern, she snatched her hand from David’s. “It’s not like that,” she said defensively before coming to the belated conclusion it wasn’t his concern regardless.

David glared down at her as if she’d mortally offended him when she let go of his hand. “I planned to take you out this evening.”

“I am sorry your plans will have to be postponed,” Luciano said, sounding anything but. He inclined his head to her. “I have apprised your tour guide that I will return you to your hotel this evening.”

“How nice, but a bit precipitous.” She didn’t bother to smile to soften the upcoming rejection. After the way he had treated her at the New Year’s Eve party, he didn’t deserve that kind of consideration. “It was kind of Grandfather to be concerned, but there is no need for you to give up your entire evening in what amounts to an unnecessary favor to him.”

“I agreed to check on you for your grandfather’s sake. I wish to spend the evening with you for my own.”

She couldn’t believe what she was hearing. She refused to believe it. She glared helplessly at him. Six months ago, he had kissed her to within an inch of her life, then thrust her away as if she were contaminated. He’d left her to face hours of humiliating comments and loudly spoken asides. And…she hadn’t heard word one from him in all the intervening months.

David moved so that his body blocked her view of Luciano. “I thought I would take you to that restaurant you liked so much our first day here, honey.” The accusation in his voice implied he had exclusive rights to her time, not to mention the altogether unfamiliar inflection he gave the word honey.

Nothing could be further from the truth.

“You could have said something earlier,” she censored him.

“I wanted it to be a surprise,” he responded sullenly. “I didn’t expect some arrogant Italian guy to show up and try to spirit you away.”

The situation was getting more unreal by the minute. Men never noticed her and yet here were two battling for her company.

She was tempted to tell Luciano to take a flying leap, but part of her also wanted a chance to rake him over the coals for his callous treatment of her. An insidious curiosity about why he wanted to be with her after rejecting her so completely was also niggling at her.

It would probably be downright brainless to give in to that curiosity or her desire to get a little of her own back, however. She had the awful feeling that her stupidly impressionable heart would be only too ready to start pining for him again if she allowed herself the luxury of his company.

When did you stop pining for him? Was that before or after the ten times a day you forget what you’re doing remembering how it felt to be kissed by him? She ignored the mocking voice of her conscience, infinitely glad mind reading was not one of Luciano’s many accomplishments.

Going with Luciano would not be a bright move.

On the other hand, she was uncomfortable with the proprietary attitude David was exhibiting. It struck her suddenly that he’d been growing increasingly possessive of her time over the past days. She hadn’t minded because it meant she didn’t have to put herself forward in unfamiliar situations, but they were just friends. It bothered her that he thought he could plan her time without her input.

She chewed her bottom lip, unsure what to do.

She felt wedged between two unpleasant alternatives, neither of which was going to leave her unscathed at the end of the evening.