by Amy McKinley
“Pack a bag.” His features gave away nothing, except for a speculative gleam in his eyes. “You’ll be going with me.”
I nodded, replacing the receiver I clung to back in its cradle. “I’ll purchase an additional ticket.” We didn’t have too long before we needed to leave if we wanted to be at the meeting on time. The train would take approximately an hour and a half.
“One other thing, Adeline.” I froze like a rabbit caught in a predator’s sight. “I’ll have some paperwork my lawyer will have drafted for you to sign before we arrive in Venice. This new information about my competition calls for a different game plan. You’ll be accompanying me as my fiancée.”
What? “Excuse me?” My head knocked back from the verbal blow he’d delivered.
“I won’t lose out on this purchase.” His voice lowered, softened, and was scarier than when he was snapping orders to the unfortunate people on his conference calls. “Mariucci is blinded by family values. I won’t allow the scale to tip in my adversary’s favor because he’s married.”
“I hardly think that his marital status would affect Mr. Mariucci’s decision, nor do I want to be pretend engaged to you.” I cringed at how that sounded. But really, I had no desire to go down that path—again.
Stone pushed off the door jam, closing the distance between us. I tensed, suddenly grateful for the desk that maintained some level of separation.
“His wife will be present in the meeting, will she not?”
Dammit. “Yes.” Tiffany wasn’t kidding about his fanatical behavior surrounding the Venice deal. But engaged?
“Then the rules of the game have changed. This is not negotiable, Adeline. It is merely a business relationship. I’ll get what I want out of it… the building. And you’ll enjoy the perks of my credit card.” He paused, most likely taking in my pinched lips and furious stare.
“No.” I had enough of the men in my life thinking they could manipulate me. But I could use this situation and make it work in my favor. “If I go along with this, I want something else in return.”
His brow furrowed, and he remained perfectly still.
Sensing his curiosity, I pushed my luck. “This will be a confidential arrangement between us. No one will ever hear a word of it. And if I do sign the contract, I want a stipulation added that I’ll be in charge of this hotel, or one of my choosing when our deal is over.”
A wolfish smile curved his lips, and I found myself holding my breath. I was in over my head. Going toe-to-toe with a man like Stone was a huge risk.
“Should you hold up your end of the deal, I’ll put an amendment in for a leadership position, if you have the necessary skills. The pretend part will be confidential, our engagement will not. That’s all I’m willing to offer.”
Hmm, I bet this would help him with Celia’s obsession. “Fine. I’d like time to look over the contract before I agree.”
Business arrangement or not, I had a feeling this proposition would end badly for one of us—namely me.
Chapter 5
Adeline
The hum of the water taxi filled the silence between Stone and me as we were ushered to our destination along the Venice shore. My gaze darted over the coast, taking in the wide expanse of beach flanking the majestic hotel that Stone had dreams of owning. A gust of warm air swept over the water, making Stone’s suit jacket flap and teasing a few tendrils of my hair.
Nausea churned in my gut, threatening to take me to my knees if I thought too long about what the hell had happened. Stone and I—because I was not going to call him Mr. Crenshaw while fake engaged—had taken a train and then a water taxi to the lagoon that met the shoreline in front of the luxurious Bianca hotel. Venice was the city of canals. The Bianca was built on Venice-Lido, which housed the best beach in front of the hotel, and fed into a lagoon and the Adriatic Sea. It was a spectacular location with Adriatic-facing beaches. A ten-minute water taxi was needed to travel between the hotel and the many Venice attractions.
My overactive mind continued to whirl. How was I going to do this, be so close to him, when he made me feel so utterly unlike myself?
The three-carat platinum antique diamond ring circled my finger like a shackle rather than a priceless heirloom meant to signify a lifelong promise.
I avoided his direction while I wrestled with the ramifications of the contract I’d read over—and signed—on the train. I’d had the option to back out. But when this fake engagement dissolved after Stone achieved his goals, I would have my pick between three of his hotels to manage, essentially fast-tracking my career. Although, he’d added the stipulation of intense training by his top manager Leif in their Swiss hotel location before I assumed my new role. That didn’t concern me. So far, everything workwise had been a breeze. What concerned me was being in close proximity to Stone.
My mind continued to yo-yo while I wrestled with the decision I made. My goals were within my grasp. Then why did resentment burn in my gut? This would be an even faster way to achieve my objective, to establish myself and secure my future, and never have to rely on anyone or forfeit my dreams. Even so, I couldn’t shake the sense of impending doom.
The water taxi docked with the wind on our backs, teasing loose a few tendrils of silvery blond hair to twist free of my chignon and dance in front of my face. Stone extended his hand to help me off the gently rocking vessel, and I shivered at his touch. Stone cleared his throat, and I fought the urge to shift my focus, to lose myself in his stormy gray eyes. I wasn’t ready. Not yet.
With a gentle touch, he brushed the few strands behind my ear, and I suppressed the shiver that wasn’t due to the light breeze. Then he spoke, his voice soothing like a full-body caress, and electricity shot along every inch of me. What was it that pulled me toward him?
“This deal is crucial.” His statement rang with determination. “I’m going to need you to read the room and go with my cues in front of the other people present.”
“I understand.” He’d already stressed this in the contract and verbally on the train. I had to fight from rolling my eyes against the waves of energy coming off him. I could appreciate his drive. So long as we kept our interactions to strictly business, then I could do this. And really, I should take full advantage of my situation, and I met his gaze with an evil grin, batting my eyelashes, hoping to infuse some levity to our situation. “As your fiancée, would I carry my bags in?”
He grunted his response but tossed the strap of my overnight bag on his shoulder. “From my research—”
“You mean Tiffany’s?” I widened my eyes, feigning innocence. Yep, I was going to have fun with this. No more stressing.
The same muscle from earlier jumped along his jawline. “No. Like I was saying…” He shot me a glare. “Mariucci is a family man. With Fielding’s bid, that will come into play. I’ll introduce you as my executive assistant. The story we’ll tell is that we met when you interned for my company. After you finished with that and graduated college, we started dating.”
“That won’t work for me.” It was another case of needing a man to get ahead, and while I was okay to use his fake engagement contract as a springboard in my career, I was not willing to compromise my reputation. “I won’t have it known I didn’t get the job on my merit. And aren’t you a little old for me?” He wasn’t, but I wanted to know his age. “Not to mention, I graduated days before I took this position.”
The corner of his mouth twitched, and I narrowed my eyes at him.
“Very well. And I’m twenty-nine—not too old.”
It was that easy? Hmm, I should have gotten more from him out of going along with his charade. He was right, though, seven years of an age difference wasn’t bad. I gritted my teeth and lengthened my stride to keep up with his longer one. When we were almost to the doors of the hotel, I tugged on his sleeve. “I need to swap shoes.” Now that we were here, I wanted to change out of the flats I’d worn for practicality and into the heels I had in my bag. I kept hold of his arm while I switched s
hoes, scowling at his amused expression.
He held the door open for me, and I breezed past him. Or I’d like to say I did. My heel caught on the threshold and, of course, I tripped. His arm wrapped around my waist. Air whooshed from my lungs, and he pulled my back against his wall of a chest. He bent down so his mouth brushed against my ear, and I shivered—again.
“If you’re going to wear heels you can’t walk in unaided, then I’ll need to hold onto you.” His voice infused with repressed laughter. “We wouldn’t want to have a repeat of what happened earlier in my office today.”
No, that we would not. My brain shorted out while he shifted so his free arm wrapped around my waist, the bags over his opposite shoulder. The close proximity to so much male kept me mute the entire way up to the conference room where the meeting was scheduled. Stone detached himself from me and set our luggage in the entryway as Rose, Mr. Mariucci’s executive assistant, greeted and ushered us in.
Another couple was at the table. The man, I presumed was George Fielding, was partially balding and had snapped his cold, calculating gaze to mine. His wife, Anne, sat beside him with perfect, honey-gold hair arranged in a twist. Her updo highlighted her flawless makeup. Diamonds dripped from her ears, neck, and adorned several of her fingers. I wasn’t spared a second from her uninterested perusal—until she caught sight of Stone.
I was intrigued until she practically drooled at the sight of him. My mind snapped back to hyper-alert at her coy smile. Annoyance crackled beneath my skin. Our engagement may be fake, but there was no way I’d let her think she had any power over the man who supposedly wanted to spend the rest of his life with me. Yep, I got the irony. I didn’t care.
I let my hand smooth the sleeve of his suit coat, consciously flashing the rock on my finger as I did so. Mr. Mariucci walked in as Stone turned to me with an amused grin. With his hand on my elbow, he pulled out my chair, most likely so I wouldn’t face-plant trying to get into the seat myself.
Already, I could tell our competition lacked genuine warmth, so I focused on softening my features as I leaned back in my chair, my shoulder brushing against Stone’s. His fingers curled around the back of my neck, stilling my movements. I fought against the heated reaction every time he touched me.
“Good evening, gentlemen and ladies.” Mr. Mariucci extended his hand first to George then his wife. When Mr. Mariucci shifted his focus to Stone, I flattened my left hand on the table to push to my feet.
“Please, don’t get up.” Mr. Mariucci grinned down at me. After shaking Stone’s hand, he reached across and grasped mine. “I don’t believe we’ve had the pleasure of meeting.”
Rose entered and got Anne settled with the Pellegrino she’d requested, taking her focus off of the three of us for a few moments.
“We have not.” I returned his mischievous grin. “I’ve spoken to Rose a time or two since Tiffany, Stone’s executive assistant, went on maternity leave.” I threaded my fingers together and set them on the table, leaning forward as we spoke. There was no way he could miss the diamond winking at him.
“Have you worked for Stone long?”
Stone took his seat next to me as Mariucci did as well across from the four of us. “Her position was in a different department, which is how we first met.”
Mariucci’s focus fell to my hand, and I took that cue to give Stone’s a quick squeeze. “We didn’t plan to work in the same office, but he needed me to fill in for Tiffany, temporarily.” I played my part, at least well enough, so they were convinced. “And to be honest, it’s been nice spending extra time together.”
“You two are engaged?” George deadpanned.
I met his and his wife’s suspicious expressions with a light laugh. “We are! And after coming to this beautiful floating city, I’m hoping to talk Stone into taking me sightseeing.” Take that Fieldings. Stone wasn’t the only one who’d done his homework about the hotel owners and their love of Venice.
Anne pursed her lips then turned to Stone. “Didn’t I see you with someone else at the cancer fundraiser a few months back?”
I put my hand on Stone’s arm, pressing down so he knew I’d take this hit. “Oh, you mean Satan’s Mistress? Excuse me. I don’t know why I can’t—” I waved my hand around as if trying to draw her name from the air. “So sorry, can’t seem to get her name out.”
“Sylvia,” George delivered, his expression not at all amused while his wife’s mouth hung open.
“Yes.” I snapped my fingers. “That’s the one! Wasn’t she solely after your money, darling?” I turned to Stone.
“Hmm.”
“I’m sorry I pushed you to take her instead of me to that function.”
“I should have gone alone.”
“Well.” I winked at him. “Everything worked out in the end.”
“What does that make you?” Anne found her voice again. “Somehow not after his billions?”
“No.” I let all amusement fade to hammer home the next mic drop. “I insisted on a prenup. After the gold diggers that came before me, I never wanted him to have any doubt I was marrying him for love, not his money.”
Mr. Mariucci chuckled. “You, dear, must meet my wife, Margaret. I know you two will get along famously.”
“I’d be delighted to.” I notched my head at Stone. “Maybe she can help me convince my workaholic fiancé that we need to stay a few days in Venice.” And that’s how you do it! I entwined my fingers with Stone’s in preparation for my closing line. “I’d love for our wedding to be here.”
Chapter 6
Adeline
Caramel latte in hand, I took a fortifying sip before setting it on my desk and walking over to deliver Stone’s black coffee. There would be no tripping incidents today. I wore my low wedge-heeled boots with yoga-type work pants. They looked exactly like dress slacks but were way more comfortable. Paired with a plum, silk blouse and my dark-framed faux glasses, I thought I looked sophisticated.
I carefully placed his coffee on his desk while he issued orders on this morning’s conference call. That would be the hotel manager in California. I had a mile-long list of things to do today, including moving a few scheduled meetings from Saturday to Monday or Tuesday for Stone, considering we would be going back to Venice for the weekend. Our calendars had not aligned with Vince and Margaret Mariucci for dinner, and I hadn’t been able to convince him to stay in Venice longer than a single night. We left at first light. Regardless, I planned to take full advantage of our current situation and drag him sightseeing with me when we returned.
Between sips of coffee heaven, I went through the list of changes Stone wanted to his agenda. Made phone calls, re-scheduled, and organized his day, then ran a profit and loss statement he had been waiting on for too long from the San Francisco branch. Spotting several problem areas, I made notes on my report on suggested alternative solutions to implement.
That brought me to the next item on my day, the one I was dreading—checking in with Celia. She had yet to respond to my inquiries about the purchase orders submitted. For whatever reason—my guess was Stone’s obsession with the Venice hotel—he didn’t want to deal with anything regarding the renovation past the initial approval, which was long since completed. I’d already reviewed his notes about the décor and atmosphere he expected the design team to achieve. It was simple, elegant, and old-world.
With that, why were purchases for modern door handles out there? Celia was going to be a problem. Pushing up from my desk, I grabbed my company iPad and headed down to find her.
They were on the second floor, and when I stepped off the elevator, Celia was leaning against a table full of boxes and flipping through a magazine. Was that Page Six?
“Celia.” My voice cracked like a whip and startled more than my intended target. “These are the wrong door handles.” I firmly placed a copy of the purchase order on the table next to where her hip rested. “Please return them and order the correct ones.”
“I think not.” Disdain dripped from h
er cultured, nasty voice, and her gaze traveled from my head to toes. “If Stone—”
“Mr. Crenshaw.” I locked down on my feelings of inadequacy over my clothes that were not designer brands like hers. How much I spent didn’t matter, what did was that I could outthink her any day.
“—wanted something different, he can speak with me.” She waved her hand toward the elevator in dismissal.
So, she wanted a power play? I hardened my expression, aware that the three other women on her team were hovering nearby. “It’s simple, Celia, make the change, or your purchase privileges will be revoked. You have one hour to get this accomplished. I expect an update at that time.”
I pivoted on my heels and stepped into the elevator as one of the construction crew was exiting. Perfect timing. As the doors closed, I held her enraged stare. The ride up was spent pulling up the other women on her team to determine whom I would put in charge when she inevitably failed her task. And she would. It was evident in her demeanor she thought I was beneath her. Not only that, her attitude made it obvious she didn’t care about her position here. What she did have an interest in was Stone.
At my desk, I read through resumes and performance evaluations. The other two designers were competent, but one stood out. Delilah. She managed most of the complicated tasks and designs. Not only that, she stayed considerably longer than the rest to get things done to meet deadlines. I shot off a quick email to her to meet with me in a half hour.
It would be interesting if Delilah told Celia who she was meeting with. My guess was she was smart enough to keep her own counsel where Celia was concerned.
“Adeline.”
Stone’s voice sent a jolt of heat through me, and I stood on legs that wobbled. Why that man affected me like that… I steeled myself to focus on the job and went into his office with my iPad in hand. “Yes?”
