‘No,’ she replied, still confused.
‘Then, Emma, I can see only one option before me. In order to secure the Bartlett deal I need you... You will be my fiancée.’
CHAPTER THREE
HUH... SO THAT was what it was like to be proposed to.
It wasn’t exactly how Emma had imagined it happening. Not even in her wildest imaginings. Though, if she was honest, Antonio Arcuri might have featured in some of her more fevered dreams—but never with such shocking words.
‘In order to secure the Bartlett deal...’
‘You will be my fiancée.’
While she might not have foreseen marriage in her future, if it had been to happen she would at least have hoped to be asked.
But why had he chosen her? Especially when he had a whole room full of perfectly suitable potential fiancées who were probably now picking the carbohydrates out of an exquisite three-course meal prepared by one of the finest chefs in New York.
She looked at him through the night gloom and saw something in his eyes. Something she had to look away from before it was transformed into pity.
‘Who told you?’
‘Who told me what?’
‘Don’t play games with me, Antonio. I’m not stupid.’
Anger ripped through her at an impossible speed. She’d wanted to start over. Start afresh in New York—where people didn’t know, didn’t look at her as if she was an unexploded bomb waiting to go off. Yes, her work with the charity had naturally led to some astute observations by a colleague or two. But not Antonio. Because he hadn’t known about her work with the charity.
‘Is this because you feel sorry for me?’
‘No!’ he growled.
‘I won’t be used as some PR stunt to get what you want, Antonio. Playing on the sympathies of Bartlett with my “miraculous survival”.’
‘Dio, what kind of man do you take me for?’ he demanded, clearly offended by the implication.
‘The kind of man who would go to extreme lengths to acquire the perfect fake fiancée in order to pin down a business deal.’
‘Well, I can hardly refute that claim. But my decision has nothing to do with your health and everything to do with the fact that you are a highly accomplished, educated woman who can move within my circles both with and without notice when necessary,’ he stated, ticking her qualities off on each of his long, lean fingers. ‘And, most importantly, you know that this will be solely a business arrangement. You will have no illusions of emotional investment that other women may mistake my offer to contain.’
‘No, I don’t have any illusions about the emotional investment behind your “offer”,’ Emma replied, refusing to remove the sting from her tone.
Struggling to sort through the barrage of contrasting opinions he had bombarded her with, and against the wave of impatience he was sending her way, she turned out to the balcony.
He wanted her as his fiancée?
‘I’m satisfied that you will not develop feelings for me and I will not develop feelings for you.’
A small sliver of hope curled in on itself deep within her. She should be pleased to hear that. She should want their relationship to be completely devoid of any possible emotional attachment, but somehow it still hurt.
‘Why is this so important to you, Antonio?’ she asked, hurt driving her to question her boss in a way she had never done before. ‘You don’t need the financial security of making the Bartlett investment, and you’ve never once cared about your...colourful reputation before. And surely if you want this deal badly enough you’ll find a way to win against this other potential investor. What’s really going on?’
He stared at her and said nothing for a moment. But then he spoke, as if realising that her agreement relied on full disclosure—or even part disclosure—and his next words shocked her.
‘As I said before, it is not Bartlett that’s important. It is the other man who might make investment in his company. Michael Steele is an evil man who cannot be allowed to succeed.’
Emma recognised the name, and knew that he had been the motivation behind some of Antonio’s business dealings before.
‘Why is Steele so important? Why go to such extreme lengths for a man who...?’ She trailed off, not quite knowing who he was.