The Vows He Must Keep

Exhausted, she was relieved when Valerio began to take charge of escorting the others out. She walked over to the large windows and caught sight of her reflection in the glass. Her trousers were wrinkled and her wild curls seemed to have grown even wilder than usual, but she didn’t care. She felt powerful after the surprising success of the afternoon, despite the awful comments she’d overheard.

It seemed like a lifetime ago that she had spent so much of her energy trying to reduce her curves and bumps, trying to squeeze into waist-slimming corsets and spending hundreds of euros on having her thick Latina curls chemically straightened. She’d been obsessed with looking like the hordes of slimmer businesswomen with their designer suits and pin straight styling.

After her failed almost-jaunt down the aisle and subsequent break-up with Kitt, something had clicked inside her and she’d started working to accept the body she had. The one she’d been born with. She was done with being shamed.

Valerio returned to the room, closing the door behind him with purpose. Evidently the meeting was not entirely concluded. She sat down again.

‘That was very well done,’ he said sincerely, bracing his hands on the dining table. ‘But it makes what I’m about to say even more difficult.’

She froze, taking in the darkness of his eyes, and felt trepidation churn in her gut.

‘I’ll be stepping back into my role as CEO of Velamar and I want you to take a step back. Maybe recommence your plans to start up your own firm.’

Stunned, she met his eyes. ‘What the—’

‘I asked you to trust me.’ His voice was sincere. ‘I need you to take a step back from the spotlight for a while...until I have a few things in order.’

‘You mean you don’t want me leading the brand either? What a shocker.’ She fought the urge to slam her hand down on the table. ‘I will not allow you to put my brother’s legacy at risk with your own shallow prejudice.’

‘My prejudice?’ His brows knitted together. ‘They’re the ones with ridiculous closed ideas of sex appeal and whatever else. I defended you.’

‘You might as well have agreed with them. You’re doing exactly what they want—getting me out of the picture so they can start picking this company apart like a damn chicken bone. You can’t do this.’

In one single sentence he’d washed away all her self-doubt and made her feel appreciated for her talent. And then he’d ruined it all by railroading over her authority and making decisions for her once again.

‘I can.’ He stood slowly, stalking towards her like a predator. ‘I am the only legal chief executive of this company. I appointed you as temporary CEO in my absence and I have the power to revoke that appointment.’

‘You. Bastard.’ She stood her ground even as he towered over her.

‘Perhaps.’ He shrugged. ‘But if you trusted me you’d believe me when I say I have my reasons.’

He allowed his gaze to wander down her face...and further. She felt the heat of his eyes sweep along her chest and abdomen, right down to her toes. She took a step back, the urge overpowering her.

‘If you think I agree with any of the things they said about you and your...assets... Clearly you have no idea what the meaning of sex appeal is, either.’

Her breath caught in her throat. Her mind was whirring, trying to find a clever retort to his words. He had to be trying to unnerve her, to make her leave. She felt hot shame rise within her, along with that damn pulse of awareness that refused to leave her every time he was in her vicinity. He was a beacon of sexual energy and, like a pathetic moth to his flame, she was completely unable to stay away.

‘I’ve just been informed that Duarte’s death will be certified in a matter of days,’ he said. ‘We don’t have time for this back and forth.’ He reached for the remnants of his coffee, downing the last of the liquid with a hiss of satisfaction. ‘I need our marriage taken care of and tied up legally before your inheritance is unlocked. We could be married in St Lucia by Monday morning if we leave tonight.’

‘St Lucia?’ She repeated the words slowly, her shoulders tensing as she began to prepare all the reasons why she couldn’t just up and disappear to the Caribbean without making plans for the business.

Then she remembered he’d technically just fired her from the only job she currently had. She had no reason not to go.

‘I’m not your enemy, you know.’ He spoke softly.

‘I know.’ She sighed. ‘Right, I guess we’re eloping, then.’ She made a weak attempt at a smile. ‘We’ve got a new base being built there. I’ve been monitoring the building work remotely, via our management team on the ground, but I’d love the chance to go and do a walk-through.’

‘Should I be offended that your first thought is how to turn our romantic Caribbean wedding into a chance to get some work done?’ He seemed irritated, gathering papers from the table and then thrusting them back down with a huff of breath.

‘It’s not a wedding,’ she said quickly, frowning at his strange change in mood. ‘It’s an elopement. I don’t understand why you’re on edge—snapping as though you’re angry with me for all this.’

‘I’m not angry with you, Dani...’ he growled, turning to walk towards the door. ‘I’m angry that you’ve been put in this situation. And I’m angry that you still refuse to trust me. But really I’m always on edge—so maybe you’d best get used to that.’

Valerio had just ended a painful phone call with his mother—his second family intervention of the day—when their car arrived on the runway beside the sleek Marchesi family jet. He felt a nervous twitch in his stomach as he watched Dani walk across the Tarmac ahead of him, in her perfect form-fitting trousers and flowy blouse.

She was polite, greeting the in-flight attendant as she stowed their bags and accepted some light refreshments. He gestured to the seat across from him and noticed her face tighten as she moved into it, her posture screaming with tension.

Just as he planned to apologise for his abrupt behaviour after their meeting, his phone rang again.