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The Sicilian's Marriage Arrangement
LUCY MONROE


Hope Bishop is stunned when darkly sexy Sicilian tycoon Luciano di Valerio proposes marriage. Brought up by her wealthy but distant grandfather, she is used to fading into the background and being ignored. But Luciano's sensual lovemaking makes her feel vibrantly alive.Hope falls in love with her husband and is blissfully happy–until she discovers that Luciano ruthlessly married her…for convenience!









The Sicilian’s Marriage Arrangement



Lucy Monroe









www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)


With thanks to Serena for her help with

Italian phrases and perspective, but most

of all for the warmth of her friendship!




CONTENTS


CHAPTER ONE

CHAPTER TWO

CHAPTER THREE

CHAPTER FOUR

CHAPTER FIVE

CHAPTER SIX

CHAPTER SEVEN

CHAPTER EIGHT

CHAPTER NINE

CHAPTER TEN

CHAPTER ELEVEN

CHAPTER TWELVE

COMING NEXT MONTH




CHAPTER ONE


“HAVE you heard? He’s trying to buy her a husband.” Feminine laughter trilled mockingly.

“With his millions, it shouldn’t be hard.”

“The old man will live to see a hundred and five and keep control of his company right up until he dies,” the woman said. “That means over thirty years married to a woman who is hopelessly introverted, hopelessly ordinary and probably hopeless in bed, to boot. Practically a lifetime before her future husband will see any fruit for his labor.”

“Put in that light,” the man drawled sardonically, “the return on investment does seem pretty low.”

“Why, darling, were you thinking of applying for the job?” Scornful disbelief laced the woman’s too knowing voice.

The masculine laughter that came in reply grated on Luciano’s nerves. He had arrived late to the New Year’s Eve party hosted by the Boston based multimillionaire, Joshua Reynolds. Nevertheless, he knew exactly whom the cynical woman and her male cohort were discussing: Hope Bishop—an extremely sweet and Si, very shy, young woman. She was also the granddaughter of their host.

Luciano hadn’t realized the old man had decided to procure her a husband. It should come as no surprise. While she had the innocence of an eighteen-year-old, she must be twenty-three or four, having completed her degree at university two years ago. He remembered attending a formal dinner to celebrate.

The dinner, like any other social gathering hosted by Reynolds, had turned into a business discussion and the guest of honor had disappeared long before the evening was over. He had thought at the time he might be the only person to have noticed. Certainly her grandfather had not, nor had any of the other businessmen present remarked upon Hope’s absence.

Luciano turned away from the gossiping couple and stepped around a potted plant easily as tall as most men. Its bushy foliage obstructed his view of what was behind it, which was why he didn’t realize Hope Bishop was standing there in frozen mortification until he had all but stepped on her.

She gasped and moved backward, her corkscrew curls catching on the leaves behind her, their chestnut color a startling contrast to the plant’s bright green shrubbery. “Signor di Valerio!”

He reached out to stop her from landing on her bottom in the big Chinese pot housing the plant.

Wide violet eyes blinked in attempt to dispel suspicious moisture. “Oh, I’m sorry. How clumsy I am.”

“Not at all, signorina.” The skin beneath his fingers was soft and warm. “I am the one who must apologize. I walked without looking ahead of myself and am at your feet in regret for my precipitous behavior.”

As he had hoped it would, his overly formal, old-fashioned apology brought a small smile to tilt the generous lips that had a moment before been trembling. “You are very kind, signor.”

She was one of the few people who believed this to be so. He let go of her arms, finding it surprisingly difficult to make his fingers release their captive. “And you are very lovely tonight.”

It had been the wrong thing to say. Her gaze flitted to the shrub and the still gossiping couple beyond, her expression turning pained. Their voices carried quite clearly, now discussing an adulterous affair between two of their acquaintances. No doubt Hope had heard their earlier words.

She affirmed his thoughts when she softly said, “Not lovely, I think, but hopelessly average,” telling him too that she knew he had heard the unflattering comments.

He did not like the sadness in her eyes and he once again took her arm, leading her toward the library. It was the one room unlikely to have a lot of New Year’s Eve guests milling about. “Come, piccola.”

Little one. It suited her.

She did not demur. That was one of the things he had always liked about the girl. She did not argue for the sake of it, not even with her overbearing and often neglectful grandfather. She was a peaceful sort of person.

They reached the library. He guided her inside, quickly ascertaining he had been right and no one else was present. He shut the door to keep it that way. She needed a few moments to collect herself.

Once again he was surprised by a desire to maintain his hold on her, but she tugged slightly on her arm and he released her. She faced him, her tiny stature accentuated by her three-inch heels, not diminished as he was sure she had hoped.

She really did look lovely in her formal gown of deep purple. The bodice outlined small, but perfectly proportioned curves while the shimmery fabric of the full skirt floated around her ankles in a very feminine way. She was not ravishingly sexy like the women he dated, but pretty in a very innocent and startlingly tantalizing way.

“I don’t think he’s trying to buy me a husband, you know.” She tucked a reddish-brown curl behind her ear. “He’s tried to buy me pretty much everything else since his heart attack, but I think even Grandfather would draw the line at buying a husband.”

He wouldn’t put anything past the wily old man, but forbore saying so. “It is natural for him to want to buy you things.”

She grimaced. “Yes, I suppose so, but in the past he’s always been impersonal with it.”

A husband would be a pretty personal purchase, Luciano had to admit. “What do you mean, signorina?”

“Oh please, you must call me Hope. We’ve known each other for five years after all.”

Had it been that long? “Hope then.” He smiled and watched in some fascination as her skin took on a distinctly rosy hue.

She averted her face, so she was looking at the overfull bookcase on her left. “Grandfather has raised me since I was five.”

“I did not know this.”

She nodded. “But I don’t think he noticed I even lived in his house except to instruct the servants to buy me what I needed, clothes when I grew out of them, books when I wanted them, an education, that sort of thing.”

It was as he had always surmised. Hope had been relegated to the background of Reynolds’ life and she had known it.

“But just lately, he’s been buying things for me himself. My birthday was a month ago and he bought me a car.” She sounded shocked by the fact. “I mean he went to the car dealership and picked it out himself. The housekeeper told me.”

“This bothers you?” Most women of his acquaintance would find a car a very appropriate birthday gift.

Her pansy eyes focused back on him. “No. Not really. Well, except that I don’t drive, but that’s not the point. It’s just that I think he’s trying to make up for something.”

“Perhaps he regrets spending so little time with you through your formative years.”

Her soft, feminine laughter affected his libido in a most unexpected way. “He had the housekeeper take me out to dinner for my birthday after having the Porsche delivered by the dealership.”

“He bought you a Porsche?” That was hardly a suitable gift for a young woman who did not even know how to drive. Porca miseria! She could kill herself her first time behind the wheel with such a powerful car. He would have to speak to Reynolds about making sure she had received proper driving instruction before she was allowed onto the roads alone.

“Yes. He also bought me a mink coat. Not a fake one, but the real thing.” She sighed and sat down in one of the burgundy leather reading chairs. “I’m, um…a vegetarian.” She peeked up at him through her lashes. “The thought of killing animals makes me nauseous.”

He shook his head and leaned back against the desk. “Your grandfather does not know you very well, does he, piccola?”

“I suppose not. I’m really excited about the six-week European tour he gave me for Christmas, though. Even if I won’t be leaving for six months. He booked it for early summer.” Her eyes shone with undisguised delight at the prospect. “I’ll be traveling with a group of college students and a tour guide.”

“How many other young women will there be?”

She shrugged. “I don’t know. There will be ten of us in all, not including the guide of course.” She crossed one leg over the other and started to swing the ankle back and forth, making her dress swish with each movement. “I don’t know what the ratio of men to women will be.”

“You are traveling with men?”

“Oh, yes. It’s all coed. Something I would have loved to do in college, but better late than never, don’t they say?”

He didn’t know about that, but the idea of this naive creature spending six weeks with a group of libidinous, college age men did not please him. Why he should care, he did not stop to analyze. It was his nature to act on not only his behalf, but that of others as well.

“I do not think it is wise for you to go on such a trip. Surely a wholly female group would be more enjoyable for you.”

Her leg stopped its swinging and she stared at him, clearly dumbfounded. “You’re kidding, right? Half the reason for going on the trip is to spend some time with men close to my own age.”

“Are you saying you object to Joshua buying you a husband, but not when it comes to him buying you a lover?” He didn’t know what had made him say it. Only that he had been angry, an inexplicable reaction to the news she was interested in male companionship.

She blanched and sat back in her chair as if trying to put distance between them. “I didn’t say that. I’m not looking for a…a lover.” Then in a whirl of purple chiffon, she jumped up. “I’ll just get back to the party.” She eased around him toward the door as if he were an angry animal threatening to pounce.

He cursed himself in his native tongue as she opened the door and fled. There had been tears in her lavender eyes. What the gossiping duo had not been able to do with their nasty commentary, he had managed with one sentence.

He had made her cry.



Two now familiar hands grabbed her shoulders from behind. “Please, piccola, you must allow me to once again apologize.”

She said nothing, but she didn’t try to get away. How could she? The moment he touched her, she lost all sense of self-will. And he did not have a clue, but then why should he? Sicilian business tycoons did not look to hopelessly average, twenty-three-year-old virgins for an alliance…of any sort.

She blinked furiously at the wetness that had already trickled down to her cheeks. Wasn’t it enough that she had been forced to overhear her shortcomings cataloged by two of her grandfather’s guests? That Luciano of all people should have heard as well had increased the hurt exponentially. Then to have him accuse her of wanting her grandfather to buy her a lover! As if the idea that any man would desire her for herself was too impossible to contemplate.

“Let me go,” she whispered. “I need to check on Grandfather.”

“Joshua has an entire household of servants to see to his needs. I have only you.”

“You don’t need me.”

He turned her to face him. Then keeping one restraining hand on her shoulder, he tipped her chin up with his forefinger. His eyes were dark with remorse. “I did not mean it, piccola.”

She just shook her head, not wanting to speak and betray how much his careless words had hurt. She was not blasé enough to take the type of sophisticated joking he had been indulging in with equanimity.

He said something low in Italian and wiped at her cheeks with a black silk handkerchief he had pulled from his pocket. “Do not distress yourself so. It was nothing more than a poorly worded jest. Not something for which you should upset yourself.”

“I’m sorry. I’m being stupidly emotional.”

His gorgeous brown eyes narrowed. “You are not stupid, piccola, merely easily hurt. You must learn to control this or others will take advantage of your weakness.”

“I—”

“Consider…The words of that gossiping pair distressed you and yet you know them to be false. Your grandfather has no need to buy you either a husband or a lover.” He accentuated his words with a small squeeze of her shoulder. “You are lovely and gentle, a woman any man would be lucky to claim.”

Now she’d forced him to fabrication to get out of the sticky situation.

She made herself smile. “Thank you.”

The stunning angles of his face relaxed in relief and he returned the smile.

Good. If she could convince him she was fine, he would let her leave and she could find someplace to lick her wounds in private.

No one else would notice if she disappeared from the party. Well, perhaps Edward, her colleague from the women’s shelter would notice. Only she had left him thoroughly engrossed in a debate over archeological method with one of her grandfather’s colleagues and doubted he would surface before the party ended.

She stepped back from Luciano’s touch, as much out of self-preservation as her need to get away completely. His proximity affected her to a frightening degree.

“I’m sure there are other guests you would like to talk to.” Again the small polite smile. “If you’re anything like Grandfather, you see every social occasion as an opportunity to advance your business interests. Most of the guests are his business contacts.”

“You are a poor prevaricator, Hope.” He stepped toward her, invading her space with his presence and the scent of his expensive cologne. She wondered if he had it mixed especially for him because she’d never smelled anything as wonderful on another man.

“P-prevaricator?” she asked, stumbling over the word because he was so close.

“It means one who deviates from the truth.” His mouth firmed with grim resolve that warned her she would not get away so easily. “Rather than discuss business with men I can see any day of the week, I would prefer you to show me to the buffet table. I came late and did not eat dinner tonight.”

She’d already known he had come late. Actually, she had thought he was not coming at all. The first she had known of his arrival had been the debacle by the banana tree. “Then, by all means, allow me to show you to the food table.”

It was her duty as hostess, after all.

She turned to lead the way and almost stopped in shock as she felt his hand rest lightly against her waist. By the time they reached the buffet, her emotions and heart rate were both chaotic.

“The food,” she croaked out and waved her hand toward the table.

“Will you sit with me while I eat? I prefer not to do so alone.”

What choice had she? To refuse would be churlish. “Yes, of course.”

She stifled a sigh. She had thought he would let her escape once they arrived in the reception room of the old Boston mansion, but she’d been wrong. The only thing that equaled Sicilian revenge was Sicilian guilt. She wondered how much penance Luciano’s guilt would require before he would feel comfortable relegating her to the background once more.

Usually, she would be rejoicing at the opportunity to spend time in his company. He had fascinated her since their first meeting five years ago. She had seen him two or three times a year since as he and her grandfather had many business interests in common. Even now, she found being the focus of his attention a heady experience, no matter that compassion and guilt were the reasons for it.

She waited until he had filled a plate and then led him to one of the many small duet tables surrounding the room. There were larger tables where someone else would undoubtedly join them, but selfishly she thought that if these few moments were all she would have of him, she wanted them private.

“Are you still working as a bookkeeper at the women’s shelter?”

Surprised he had remembered, she said, “Yes. We’re opening another facility outside of Boston in a few weeks.”

He asked her about it and then spent the next twenty minutes listening to her talk about the women’s shelter and the work they were doing. They catered to victims of domestic violence, but did a great deal for single mothers down on their luck as well. Hope loved her job and could talk about the shelter for hours.

“I suppose they can always use donations?” Luciano asked.

So, that was how he planned to finish mitigating his guilt for making her cry. Not that it was really his fault. He could not be blamed for her lack of urbanity, but she wouldn’t refuse him regardless.

He had plenty of money to donate to such a worthy cause. He was so rich, he traveled with not simply a bodyguard, but a whole security team. The only reason he was alone now was because Grandfather’s security was known to be some of the most stringent in the East Coast big business community.

“Yes. They bought the furniture for the upstairs with my fur coat, but there’s still the downstairs to furnish.”

He smiled and her insides did that imitation of melting Godiva chocolate they always did when those sensual lips curved in humor. “So, you sold the mink, hmm?”

“Oh no. That wouldn’t be right. It was a gift after all. I gave it to the shelter.” She winked and then felt herself blushing at her own temerity. “They sold it.”

“You’ve got a streak of minx in you I think.”

“Perhaps, signor. Perhaps.”

“Do you have contact information for the shelter?”

“Naturally.”

“I should like to give it to my P.A., and instruct that a donation large enough to furnish several rooms is made on my behalf.”

“I’ve got a business card upstairs in my room, if you’ll wait a moment while I get it?” What she would never do on her own behalf, she did for the shelter with total equanimity.

“I will wait.”



Hope pulled a white business card for the women’s shelter from the top drawer of the escritoire in the small study attached to her suite of rooms. As she turned to head back downstairs, she realized it was less than ten minutes before midnight. She stopped and stared at the ornamental desk clock, biting her lip. If she waited just a few minutes to return downstairs, she could avoid the ritual of kissing someone on the stroke of midnight.

She didn’t fear being accosted by one of the many male guests at her grandfather’s party. She was aware that the most likely scenario would be her standing alone and watching others kiss. Her stomach tightened at the thought of watching Luciano locking lips with some gorgeous woman. And there were plenty of them downstairs.

Rich businessmen attracted beautiful women who had a chic she envied and could not hope to emulate.

She wasn’t worried about leaving Luciano to his own devices. Even now, she had no doubt he was no longer sitting alone while he waited for her. He might not even wait at the table, but expect her to come find him once she returned downstairs. Now that his guilt had been appeased, she would no longer qualify for his undivided attention.

Going back downstairs at this moment in time would serve no purpose other than to further underscore the humiliating fact that she did not fit amidst her grandfather’s guests. She might have been born to his world, but she could never feel like she belonged in it. Perhaps because she had never felt like she belonged anywhere.

From the clock, her gaze shifted to the plaque hanging on the wall. It was a saying by Eleanor Roosevelt and it reminded her that she might not be able to help her shyness, but she did not have to be craven as well.



Luciano became aware of Hope instantly when she arrived once again in the periphery of his vision. She said and did nothing, but the sweet scent he associated with her reached out to surround him. He turned from the Scandinavian cover model who had approached him within seconds of Hope’s disappearance from their table.

“You’re back.”

Her gaze flicked to the model and back to him. “Yes.” She reached her hand out, a small white card between her delicate thumb and forefinger. “Here’s the contact information for the shelter.”

He took it and tucked it into the inner pocket of his formal dinner jacket. “Grazie.”

“You’re welcome.”

Suddenly noisemakers started blaring around them and a ten second count down began in the other room. The model joined in as did the other guests surrounding him and Hope. Hope did as well, but an expression he did not understand crossed her features. Why should it make her sad to ring in the New Year?

He could not look away from the almost tragic apprehension turning her lavender eyes so dark, they appeared black. The blonde put her hand on his arm and he realized that men and women were pairing off. Ah, the traditional kiss to bring in the New Year with luck. And in a split second of clarity he understood Hope’s sadness and that he had a choice. He could kiss the sexy, extremely world savvy woman to his left, or he could kiss Hope.

Her expression was carefully guarded, but he could tell that she expected him to kiss the model. She had grown accustomed to neglect and although she seemed more than willing to talk to him, she was terribly shy around others. She expected to kiss no one. And the expectation had put that sadness in her eyes. It was not right.

She was gentle and generous. What was the matter with the men of Boston that they overlooked this delicate but exotic bloom?

He shook off the blonde’s hold and stepped toward Hope. Her eyes grew wide and her mouth stopped moving in the countdown, freezing in a perfect little O. Placing his hands on both sides of her face, he tilted it up for his kiss. A cacophony of Ones sounded around him and then he lowered his mouth to hers. He would kiss her gently, nothing too involved.

He did not want to frighten her, but he owed her this small concession for having made her cry. Buying furniture for her women’s shelter would not cut it. That was money, but the insult had been personal and this was personal atonement.

His lips touched hers and she trembled. He gently tasted her with his tongue. She was sweet and her lips were soft. They were still parted and he decided to go a step further. He wanted to taste the warmth and wetness of her mouth. So he did.

And it was good, better than he would have thought possible.

Her tongue tentatively brushed against his and heat surged through his male flesh. He wanted more, so he took it, moving one hand to her back and pressing her into him. She went completely pliant against him, molding her body to his like molten metal over a cast figure. Using the hand on her back, he lifted her off the floor until her face was even with his own and he could kiss her as urgently as he wanted to do.

She wrapped her arms around his neck and moaned, kissing him back with a passion that more than matched his own.

The small noises emanating from her drove him on.

He deepened the kiss further, oblivious now to his surroundings.

He wanted to do more than kiss her. He wanted to strip her naked and taste every centimeter of her delectable little body. The library. He could take her back to the library.

His hand was actually moving to catch her knees so he could carry her off when a booming voice broke through the daze of his lascivious thoughts.

“With a kiss like that, you’re both bound to have more good luck than a Chinese dragon.”




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.




CHAPTER THREE


“OUR reservations are for eight-thirty. We have to be on our way, piccola mia,” Luciano said, completely ignoring David.

“Are all European men so arrogant?” David asked her in direct retaliation.

She shot a quick sideways glance to see how Luciano had taken her friend’s insolence. His expression was unreadable. “Shall we go?” he asked her.

David expelled an angry hiss.

She laid her hand on his forearm. This was getting ridiculous and if she didn’t act soon, her friend would be well on his way to making an enemy of a very powerful man. David was too young to realize the long term impact on his future business dealings such an action might have. Though she was irritated by David’s behavior, she liked him too much to let him do something so stupid.

Besides, if she went with Luciano, she hoped David would get the message she wanted his friendship, but wasn’t interested in anything more. She couldn’t be. She might want to hate Luciano, but he remained the only man she could think of in that way.

She had no experience with brushing off a man’s interest and this seemed the easiest way.

“I’m sorry. Can we make it another night?” she asked by way of atonement.

“We won’t be in Athens another night,” he reminded her.

“I know.”

He would probably have said more, but the bus driver called the final boarding call, shouting specifically for David to get a move on.

“You’d better go,” she said, relieved the confrontation could not be prolonged. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“All right, honey.” He bent down and kissed her briefly on the lips.

Shocked, she stared at him speechless. He’d never even kissed her cheek before.

He smiled, not with his usual friendly grin, but with an implied intimacy that did not exist between them. “If you don’t want to wait for morning, you can come by my room tonight after your grandfather’s crony drops you off.”

The implication that Luciano was old enough to be in her grandfather’s generation was enough to make her lips quirk despite the unwelcome kiss and male posturing.

“Perhaps your young friend’s dates are used to going home unsatisfied and in need of further male companionship,” Luciano drawled silkily, “but I can promise you, bella mia, you will have no such need tonight.”

She gasped, all humor fleeing, and glowered at both men. “That’s enough. Both of you. I have no intention of letting anyone satisfy me.” She blushed even as she said the words and was irritated with herself for doing so.

“I do not appreciate this petty male posturing either.” She didn’t have to choose the best of two poor options, she could make another one. “I don’t think I want to have dinner out at all. I’d rather eat room service alone in my hotel room than be in the company of any arrogant male.”

With a triumphant glare at Luciano that did not endear him to her, David loped off toward the bus where the driver stood at the open door with obvious impatience. She started to follow him, determined to do just as she’d threatened. David might think he’d won, but he would find out differently if he tried to coax her out of her room tonight.

She’d gotten no further than a step when Luciano’s hands settled on her shoulder, arresting her in mid-flight. “We need to discuss your regrettable tendency to leave before our conversations are finished. It is not polite, piccola.”

He pulled her into his side and waved the bus driver off in one fluid movement.

She watched in impotent anger as the big vehicle pulled away. It was that, or scream like a madwoman for the bus driver to stop. She wasn’t even sure he would hear her with the door closed and the rather noisy air-conditioning unit running full tilt. And she had absolutely no desire to make a spectacle of herself in front of the tourists milling about the parking area. His highhanded tactics had effectively left her with no choice but to stay behind with Luciano.

She didn’t have to like it however and she tore away from his side with unconcealed contempt. “That was extremely discourteous, signor. I don’t appreciate being manhandled, nor do I accept you have the right or the reason to dictate my activities.”

He frowned down at her. “I may not yet have the right, but I do have the reason. I wish to spend time with you, cara.”

“And my wishes count for nothing?” she demanded while reeling inside from such an admission from him as well as the tender endearment.

“Your wishes are of utmost importance to me, but do you really prefer ordering room service to an evening spent in my company?”

That was very much in question. It wasn’t her preference, but her preservation she was concerned about. “You were insufferably rude. You implied you were going to…That we…As if I would!”

She could not make herself say the words aloud and that made her mad. Angry with him for implying he was going to take her to bed in the first place and furious with herself for still being such a backward creature she couldn’t discuss sex without blushing like the virgin she was.

His laughter was the last straw as far as she was concerned. She didn’t have to stick around to be made fun of. She’d suffered enough at his hands in that regard already.

She turned on her heel with every intention of finding some sort of public transport to take her back to the hotel. Once again he stopped her. This time, he wrapped his arms around her middle and pulled her back into his body with a ruthless purpose.

His lips landed on her nape in a sensual caress that sent her thoughts scattering to the four winds. “I have ached to taste you again for six long months. You must forgive me if my enthusiasm for your company makes me act without proper courtesy.”

Enthusiasm did not take six months to act, but she was too busy trying not to melt into a puddle of feminine need at his feet to tell him so. “Luciano?” she finally got out.

He spun her around to face him. “Spend the evening with me, cara. You know you want to.”

“David was right. You are arrogant.”

“I am also right.”

She would have argued, but he kissed her. The moment his lips touched hers, she was lost. His mouth moved on hers with expert effect, drawing forth a response she could not hide or control. She allowed his tongue inside her mouth after the first gentle pressure applied to the seam of her lips.

He tasted like she remembered. Hot. Spicy. Masculine.

When he pulled away, she was too lost in her own sensual reaction to his kiss to even notice he was leading her anywhere. It wasn’t until he stopped at the waiting limo and rapped out instructions to the ever-present security team, that she once again became aware of her surroundings.

Mary, mother of Joseph, it was just like at the party.

He could have done anything to her and she would have let him. She was also aware that while she’d been completely lost to reality, he had been in absolute control.

She tried to tell herself she was letting him hand her into the car because she didn’t relish riding public transport alone at night in a foreign country. But she knew the truth. If she didn’t sit down soon, she’d fall down. Her legs were like jelly and no way did she want him realizing that betraying fact.

Inside the car, she fiddled nervously with the strap of her brightly colored shoulder bag. It had a pattern of bright yellow and orange sunflowers all over it. She’d bought it so that it would be easily spotted among the other ladies’ bags on the tour, but it looked gauche sitting on the cool leather seat of the ultra-luxurious limo.

She was also positive that her casual lemon yellow sundress and flat leather sandals were not de rigueur for the types of restaurants he frequented.

“I think it would be best if you took me back to my hotel,” she said at the same time as he asked, “Are you enjoying your holiday?”

Her eyes met Luciano’s in the well-lit interior of the car. Apparently neither one of them wanted to discuss the recent kiss.

His intense gaze mesmerized her. “I do not wish to take you back to your hotel.”

“I’m not dressed for dinner out.” She indicated her casual, day worn clothes with a wave of her hand.

“You look fine.”

She snorted in disbelief. “Where are we eating, a hot dog stand?”

“I do not think they have those in Athens, cara.”

“You know what I mean.”

She didn’t even want to think how her hair looked. She’d long ago given up trying for a chic hairstyle and wore her natural curls in an only slightly tamed riot. Most of the time it suited her, but she could imagine that after spending the day tramping the streets of Athens it probably looked like she’d never brushed her hair in her life.

“You must trust me, piccola. I would not embarrass you.”

That was rich, coming from him.

“Now, please, won’t you tell me how you are finding your holiday? I remember you looked forward to it very much.”

He had closed the privacy window between them and the front seat and turned on the tiny lights that ran the entire length of the roof, giving off a surprisingly illuminating glow. A glow that cast his features in stark relief. The genuine interest reflected in his expression prompted her to answer.

“It’s been wonderful.”

“And what has been your favorite stop so far?”

She couldn’t believe a man of his extensive experiences would truly be interested in her first taste of Europe, but she answered nonetheless. “I really can’t say.” She smiled, remembering all the incredible things she’d seen. “I’ve loved every moment. Well, maybe not the airports, but David and the others have made the waiting around in drab terminals fun.”

Luciano frowned at the mention of David’s name. “It is not serious between you two?”

“If it were, you put a spanner in the works tonight, didn’t you?” She might have preferred that spanner, but he didn’t know that and his behavior had been unreasonable.

He did not look in the least bit guilty. “He implied you might come back to his room tonight. Are you sleeping with him?”

“That’s none of your business!”

He leaned over her, the big torso of his six feet, four inch body intimidating at such close range. Suddenly he didn’t remind her of just any old jaguar, but a hungry one intent on hunting his prey and moving in for the kill.

She felt like the prey.

“Tell me.”

She was shy, but she wasn’t a coward, or so she reminded herself frequently. “No. And if you’re going to act like some kind of Neanderthal brute all evening, you may as well tell your chauffeur to take me back to my hotel right now.”

She’d said it so many times now, it was beginning to sound like an impotent litany.

Amazingly, he backed off. Physically anyway.

“I am no brute, but I admit the thought you share your body with him does not predispose me to good temper.”

“Why?”

“Surely after the kiss we shared only minutes ago, you do not have to ask this.”

“Are you saying you give the third degree to every woman you kiss?” She didn’t believe it.

“You are not every woman.”

“No. I’m the hopelessly introverted, hopelessly average and probably hopeless in bed granddaughter of your business associate.” The bitter memory rolled off her tongue before she became conscious what the word probably would reveal to him. Maybe he wouldn’t notice she’d all but told him she was not sleeping with David. “I don’t see where that makes me anything special to you.”

It seemed he hadn’t comprehended the implication of her words when he spoke. “You are not introverted with this David fellow. You were laughing with him and holding his hand.”

He made it sound like she’d been caught in flagrante delicto with David. “He’s my friend.”

“I also am your friend, but you do not hold my hand.”

“For Heaven’s sake, you wouldn’t hold a woman’s hand unless it was to lead her to bed.” Had she really said that?

“And are you trying to say this is not where your friend David was leading you?”

“Don’t be ridiculous!”

“It is not ridiculous for me to think this. He looks at you with the eyes of a man who has claim to you.”

“There is such thing as the claim of friendship.”

“And friendship requires late night visits to his hotel room?”

“I’ve never been to his hotel room late at night, for goodness’ sake. I’m hardly the type to carry on a brief affair, or did you miss the hopeless-in-bed description?” As the words left her mouth, she realized with chagrin she’d given Luciano what he wanted—a definite answer to whether or not she was sleeping with David.

He didn’t look smug, however. He was too busy glaring at her. “Stop repeating that bitch’s words as if they are gospel. She knows nothing of you or your passions. You will be a consuming fire in my bed, of that I am certain.”

“Your bed?”

He sighed. “I have no plans to seduce you tonight, so you can relax.”

“But you do plan to seduce me?” She pinched the inside of her elbow to make sure she was not sleeping and having some bizarre dream. Pain radiated to her wrist. She was awake.

“Perhaps you will care to tell me what restaurant so caught your approval on your first day in the city?” he asked, ignoring her question.

Certain she’d had all the seduction talk she could take for one night, she eagerly accepted his change of subject. She told him about their visit to the nightlife of the Psiri where she’d sampled out of this world food at one of the many small cafés that did not even open until six in the evening.

“It was a lot like Soho, but I felt more comfortable in Psiri than I ever did visiting that section of New York City. Maybe that’s because I went there with my roommate from college. She was from Manhattan and her friends were all very gothic.” Hope could still remember how out of place she’d felt in the avant garde atmosphere.

“Psiri is fantastic and a lot more laid back. I didn’t feel like I was on display, if that makes any sense.” Her Boston manners and introverted ways had made her feel out of place in Soho, but the Psiri was patronized by so many different nationalities, no one person stood out.

Luciano shrugged, his broad shoulders moving fluidly in the typical European movement. “I have never been to Soho and it has been several years since I indulged in the nightlife of Athens.”

“I suppose it’s hard to do normal things like drink ouzo in a small bar on a busy street when you’ve got a security team trailing you.” Like the one in the nondescript car behind the limousine.

“Si, and there is the lack of time as well. I have spent the better part of the last ten years building my business holdings. My socializing has been of necessity targeted to that end.”

“Just like Grandfather.”

“Perhaps.”

“Is that what tonight is about? Are you doing my grandfather a favor in return for which you are angling for some kind of business coup?”

Luciano went curiously still. “What makes you ask this?”

It was her turn to shrug. “I don’t know. I guess it’s just hard to believe you’ve thought about me at all over the past six months.” She ignored his threatened intent to seduce her as macho posturing. It must be a Sicilian male thing. “It’s not as if you’d called or anything. And I know I’m not your average date.”

He might socialize for business, but the companions he chose to do it with were invariably gorgeous and terribly sophisticated. Much like the model he had turned away from on New Year’s Eve to kiss Hope instead. She still found that inexplicable. One of his previous amours had been a dispossessed princess with a reputation for fast living. His latest was an Italian supermodel who gave sultry new meaning.

Hope was as far from such a being as Luciano was from an awkward teenager.

“Accept that it pleases me to see you.”

“Why should I?”

“Because I say it is so.” Exasperation laced his every word and she wanted to kick him.

“You can say anything, but it’s your actions that show what you really feel.”

“What is that supposed to mean?”

Their arrival at their destination prevented further conversation.



Luciano helped Hope out of the limousine. Who would believe such a shy little thing could be such a termagant as well? After her response to his kiss on New Year’s Eve, he had been sure wooing her would be the easy part of the deal with Joshua Reynolds. However, she was hardly falling into his arms in gratitude for his pursuit.




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