The Sicilian's Marriage Arrangement
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.
By the saints, she was contrary. She melted against him when he took her in his arms, but she had the tongue of an asp.
That tongue was silent during the elevator ride to his Athens penthouse. She kept her gaze averted too. He wondered at this. He wondered also if she was enamored of that blond buffoon who had put his lips on her. A definite rapport existed between them. She said she did not sleep with him, but it was not because the man was averse. Anger still simmered beneath the surface at the memory of another man touching the woman who was to be his.
That she did not yet realize she belonged to Luciano was the only reason he had not flattened the American, but soon both she and he would know it. And then let the blond man touch her at his peril.
The elevator stopped and Hope looked up for the first time. “Where are we?”
The doors slid open and he stood back for her exit first. “This is my Athens headquarters.”
They stepped through one of the two doors on the landing.
She looked around them. “It looks more like a home to me, or are you trying to tell me that a Sicilian tycoon does his business in the living room rather than the boardroom?”
He felt his lips quirk at her sassiness. This unexpected side to her nature was not altogether unpleasing. A wife without spirit would not suit him. He had yet to decide if he would let the marriage stand once he had his plans for dealing with her grandfather in place.
“The apartment is located on the top floor of the Valerio building. My office is one floor below.”
If Hope was ignorant of the old man’s machinations, her only guilt was by association. Tradition dictated the family held responsibility for the actions of one, but he was not such a dinosaur. If she knew nothing, he could not honorably include her in the vendetta and the marriage would have to stand.
“And the other door?” she asked.
“A company apartment.”
Her brow quirked. “Not the home of your mistress?”
Ai, ai, ai. “You are a spitting kitten tonight.”
She blushed and once again turned her face away from him.
He had brought her with him tonight to determine the level of her guilt as much as to woo her to marriage. Her ongoing contrariness was a point in favor of her innocence. Surely if she wanted the marriage and were in league with her grandfather, she would not be so difficult toward Luciano.
On the other hand, women had known since time memorial that to play hard to get intrigued the hunter in men, particularly Sicilian men.
“I thought you were taking me out to dinner. You said our reservations were for eight.”
“And so they are. My chef has prepared a special meal to be served on the terrace. If we were late, sauces would be ruined, the vegetables overcooked.”
She turned, her composure restored. “What a tragedy,” she said facetiously.
“Si. A great tragedy.”
“We’re eating on the terrace?”
“It has a magnificent view of the city. I believe you will like it.”
The violet of her eyes mirrored confusion. “Why are you doing this? You can’t be so hard up for a date that you must spend the evening with your business associate’s granddaughter.”
“I told you, it pleases me. Why do you find this so difficult to believe?” He was not used to having his word questioned and he found he did not like it, especially from her.
She made a sound of disbelief. “You date supermodels, sexy, sophisticated women. I’m not your type.”
For some reason her protestations on that point irritated him immensely. “A man will taste many types of fruit before finding a tree he wishes to eat from for a lifetime.”