His Merciless Marriage Bargain

“This isn’t about me.”

“Isn’t it? Because let’s be honest, a six-month-old has very few material needs. Milk, a dry diaper, clean clothes—”

“Time, love, attention.”

“Which you want to be compensated for.”

“No,” she said sharply, before holding her breath and counting to ten. She had to stay calm. She couldn’t get into a fight, not now, not before anything was settled, and certainly not before Michael had been returned to her. “I wish I didn’t need your money. I’d love it if I didn’t need help. I’d love to be able to tell you to go fly a kite—” She hesitated as she saw him arch a brow. “It’s an expression.”

“I’m familiar with it.”

“I was trying to be polite.”

“Of course.”

His sarcasm made her want to take a poker iron from the fireplace and beat him with it, which was something, considering the fact that she was not a violent person, and did not go through life wanting to hit things, much less human beings. “I don’t want to be compensated. But I can’t work and care for Michael at the same time, nor does AeroDynamics provide an on-site nursery. The fact is, there is no solution for child care for someone in my position.”

“That problem disappears, though, if you claim Antonio’s assets in the Marcello holding company, allowing you to retire from your job and raise the child in the comfort and style he deserves.” Giovanni’s blue gaze held hers, his mocking tone matching his cynical expression. “Have I got it right?”

Offended, she stiffened. “You’ve created a fascinating story, but it’s not true.”

“Do you share the same father and mother as your sister?”

“Yes.”

“So you were raised in the same…struggling…blue-collar household?”

She heard the way he emphasized struggling and winced. “We were not a blue-collar household. My father was a respected engineer for Boeing. He was brilliant. And my mother managed the front office of a successful Seattle dental practice.”

“Not Seattle, but Burien.”

So he had done some research, and he’d found her family wanting.

She battled her temper, not wanting to lose control again. It was one thing to become muddled by a kiss, but another to allow his words to stir her up. “Yes, Burien, just a few miles south of downtown Seattle. Living in a suburb was a lifestyle choice. That way my mother could work and be available to see us to the school bus before school, and then meet our bus afterward. She juggled a lot, especially after our father died.”

“Money was an issue.”

Her smile was gracious. She would be gracious and serene. “Being middle class is not a crime, nor does it reflect badly on my family. Wealth doesn’t make one superior.”

“It does give one advantages…physically, socially, psychologically.”

“But not morally.” She held her smile, hiding her fury. She’d met many arrogant, condescending men at AeroDynamics but they’d never shamed her for having less. “Morally you are not superior in any way. In fact, I’d say morally you are inferior because you’ve refused so far to do what is right. You’re more concerned about protecting your corporation than your nephew—”

“We were discussing wealth and its advantages, and you’ve turned it into an attack.”

“Not attacking, just stating my position.”

“That you are morally superior because you’re of the working class?”

“If I’m morally superior it’s because I didn’t turn my back on my nephew like you!” She drew a shallow breath, stomach churning. “I knew your brother. He was my client and he’d be devastated that you’ve rejected his son—”

“I haven’t rejected my nephew, and you could not have known my brother well if you thought he was pleased in any way about your sister’s pregnancy. Her pregnancy devastated him. It hastened his death, so before you lecture me about moral superiority, why don’t you look at your own family?”

Her lips opened and closed but she couldn’t make a sound.

Giovanni rose. “Your sister is a classic gold digger. She wanted a rich man and she found one in Antonio. She didn’t care that he was ill and dying. She didn’t care that she was making excessive demands. All she wanted was her way, and she got it. So save your speeches, Rachel. I know just who you and your sister are. Master manipulators, but I won’t be played. Good day. Addio.”

He walked out, leaving the door open behind him.

* * *

Giovanni climbed the staircase two steps at a time, anger rolling through him, anger and outrage that a stranger would try to tell him who his brother was and what his brother wanted.