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Dani ignored the flush of awareness that prickled along her skin at the effortlessly sexy tone of his voice. Being around Valerio Marchesi so much was already causing mayhem on her nerves and she was agreeing to marry the man? Suddenly she felt caged in by all the unknowns about this arrangement and her ability to survive it.
‘Is there a time frame for all of this?’ she asked as nonchalantly as she could manage. ‘I mean to say...how long do we actually need to stay married?’
His eyes darkened. ‘Already dying to be free of me, tesoro?’
She inhaled sharply at the endearment, noting that he seemed slightly unnerved by his own words as well. He pulled gently at the collar of his shirt as though it had suddenly grown too tight.
The tense silence between them was interrupted by soft footsteps in the doorway to the kitchen. His housekeeper moved towards them, announcing an urgent phone call from Valerio’s brother on the landline.
‘Take the call. I’ve got to get to the office anyway,’ Dani urged.
‘This conversation is far from over, Dani.’ He stood, unbuttoning the top buttons of his shirt. ‘I’ll pick you up for lunch. You can brief me on the meeting.’
And with a barely audible curse under his breath, he excused himself, disappearing inside with swift, thundering steps.
Dani watched him go with a mixture of relief and disappointment. ‘I wish that I could have found any other way.’ Just what every woman wanted to hear from her fiancé. He had sounded as if he was prepping himself for a walk to the gallows.
His brother had probably got wind of the news and was calling now to put a stop to such madness. She shouldn’t be hurt by Valerio’s coldness. This was business. This was a formal transaction—a professional arrangement and nothing more. From his standpoint this was simple and clear-cut. He wasn’t tied up in knots by complicated feelings and emotions the way she was.
She thought back to all the times she had dreamed of her own wedding day. She cared little about the actual day itself—more what it represented. Commitment, love, a family of her own and a home filled with happy memories. Deep down she craved the love and devotion she’d seen while growing up.
Her parents had adored one another and had always put their children’s welfare before their own. They’d traded in their lofty social scene in Brazil when she was ten years old for a simple life in the English countryside. She had always imagined herself doing the same for her own children some day—that was why she had said yes when her ex, Kitt, had proposed after only six months of dating...even when a small voice in her head had told her to slow down and think it through.
But when her career had skyrocketed, she had realised that the high-powered work life she craved wasn’t easily compatible with the traditional family life she had once dreamed of. At least that was what Kitt had said when he’d given her his ultimatum. He’d told her that her ambition and refusal to compromise was ruining any chance they had of a future.
Maybe this kind of business arrangement was the closest thing she would ever get to a real marriage. Maybe it was time she faced the fact that her life was never going to be the stuff of fairy tales and maybe that was okay. She loved her work. She was committed to taking care of the legacy her family had left behind, to doing them all proud.
Faking a happy marriage to a man who would never see her as anything but an obligation was a small price to pay for her safety.
It had to be—she had no other choice.
The rest of her morning was a blur, starting with an unplanned meeting with her regional team about some issues that had arisen with their plans for the Monaco Yacht Show. Usually she didn’t enjoy playing CEO at meetings, but for once she threw herself into the role, thankful for a slice of normality.
Work had always been a source of calm for her during times of difficulty. Her parents had taught her the value of hard work, ambition and charity, ensuring that neither of their children became entitled trust fund brats. After Duarte had dropped out of college at nineteen, to live the wild life with Valerio, she had thrown herself into graduating with top honours and had then gone on to do the same in her master’s degree in Public Relations and Strategic Communications.
When their parents had died so suddenly, in that car accident seven years ago, she’d jumped at Duarte’s offer to be Velamar’s PR and marketing strategist. She had been the one to help them turn their modest success into an empire. She was more than capable of public speaking and turning on the charm but, being naturally introverted, preferred to do her work from the shadows as much as possible. She did not possess her twin’s natural ability to attract people to her with an almost gravitational pull. Duarte had been the wall she had always leaned on and hid behind.
Pushing away the overwhelming sorrow that always accompanied any memory of her twin, she threw herself into a few hours of preparation for the meeting that lay ahead, praying that Valerio would have the good sense to arrive early so that she could prepare him.
But afternoon came without him and she made her way alone to the large boardroom on the top floor of the building, frowning at the eerily empty space. Even the surrounding offices were empty. A feeling of unease crept into her stomach as she tapped a button on her phone, calling her personal assistant.
‘Dani, thank God you called. I just saw one of the secretaries for two of the board members...’ The young woman gasped, as though she’d been running.
‘Are you okay? What’s wrong?’
‘They moved the meeting!’ her PA exclaimed. ‘They moved it to Valerio Marchesi’s villa and deliberately chose not to pass on the memo to you.’
Dani felt her fist tighten on the phone until she heard a crunch. Thanking her overwrought PA, she slammed the device down on the table.
He’d moved the meeting and hadn’t called her. Damn him.
She had asked him to do one thing—one simple favour... But, as usual, Valerio Marchesi did what he wanted to do and only ever on his own terms. Heaven forbid the man should ever take her advice or think of someone other than himself.
She wanted to fight—she needed a win of some sort. Maybe then she might start to feel something again other than this restless void of work and sleep.
Embracing the hum of adrenaline in her veins, she raced towards the elevators.