by Day Leclaire
She sighed, snuggling close to Stefano. It was a shame really. She'd never met anyone who could distract her before. It might have been interesting to find out just how distracted she could have become.
CHAPTER FOUR
STEFANO stared at his brothers in disbelief. "You're kidding."
"No, we're not kidding." Luc, the oldest of the six, took the lead. "The timing couldn't be better. We've been talking about expansion. Dom's in Italy so we don't have to worry about any paternal disapproval. You said yourself she was offering a business arrangement-"
"You want me to marry a woman I don't know or love so we can expand our business interests?"
"No," Luc retorted. "We want you to marry Ms. Wentworth so Cornell doesn't put us out of business. Expanding is a bonus. If she planned to approach anyone else, I'd let it go. But Cornell plays dirty."
"Would it be such a hardship?" Marco interrupted. "She seemed quite interested in you last night."
Stefano glared at his twin. "No. She seemed quite interested in you."
"Details." Marco waved that aside. "The point is ... she's attracted. And she'd much rather give us her business than Cornell. Why disappoint her?'
"She plans to take control of her corporation away from her uncle."
Exasperated, Marco tossed his pen onto his legal pad. "So? They're her companies."
Stefano thrust back from the conference table and stood. His brothers had blindsided him and he didn't like it one little bit. He crossed to the bank of windows overlooking the city of San Francisco, his focus inevitably turning to Penelope's building. He scowled. "Her uncle has been running Crabbe and Associates for years. He knows what he's doing."
"Penelope's determined to marry," Luc pointed out with annoying logic. "And from what little you've told us, she'll accomplish her goal whether it's by marrying you or marrying someone else. Why not profit from this?"
"Would you do it?" Stefano demanded over his shoulder.
"I'm already married."
"Come on, Luc. You know what I mean. If you weren't married to Grace, would you marry a stranger for profit?"
"It's a moot point," Marco answered for his brother, "since you're attracted to her. Come on, Stef. Admit it. You want her."
Stefano's mouth tightened. "What has that got to do with anything?"
"You've only met her a while ago and she already has you tied up in knots." Marco grinned. "That's how it was when I first met Hanna. I knew."
"I'm not in love with the woman," he bit out. "It would be like falling in love with ... with a computer."
Marco shrugged. "Hanna was obsessed with business, too. It's your job to show her there's more to life than work. I have every confidence you can do it, too."
"Consider the alternatives," Luc added. "Stop and think what it would mean to Salvatores if Cornell got his hands on Janus Corp."
"I suppose it's too much to hope that Cornell will turn her down flat?"
Luc shook his head. "He'd find her offer irresistible. He'd marry her just for the novelty of the situation."
Stefano couldn't argue with fact. But Luc's comment disturbed him, reminding him of something she'd said last night. What had it been? Something about the men she knew wanting Penelope, not Nellie. They wanted what she could bring to the marriage, rather than the person. He gritted his teeth. Cornell would be no different. If anything he'd be far worse. The mere thought of her sacrificing herself to a man like that-
"How long do you think it would take him to bring us to our knees?" Luc urged, no doubt sensing weakness.
"Not long, " Alessandro announced, walking into the conference room. As the second brother, he was the tallest and broadest of the Salvatores. He was also the most grim, with pitiless eyes and a hardness few cared to confront. "It's worse than we thought."
"How much worse?" Stefano demanded.
"Cornell was behind the incident last night. Not only did he demand that Marks remove Stefano, he also claimed that new evidence has come to light and all of the Salvatores are suspected of having been involved in that incident with the Bennetts."
"We'll sue!"
"To hell with the courts," Pietro protested. "Let's go pay Cornell a visit and explain the error of his ways in person."
Rocco flexed his fists. "I'm ready."
"No," Luc interrupted. "We have a better way of taking care of Cornell. One that will put him out of business permanently. Isn't that right, Stefano?"
Stefano could feel the net tightening around him.
"What happened to the Salvatore claim that we only marry for love?"
"You won't be the first to disprove that," Alessandro interrupted. "I'm one step ahead of you."
"And two divorces in the family will make it any more acceptable? At least you married for love, even if it didn't work."
Marco approached and dropped a heavy hand on Stefano's shoulder. "And you won't?" he demanded in an undertone. "There's something between you and this Wentworth woman. I realize it's too soon to call it love. But what if it is? What if your feelings for her could develop over time. If she marries Cornell you won't have the chance to know for sure."
Stefano shrugged off the comment. "You're dreaming."
"They are pleasant dreams, yes?"
"Marco--"
"If you're still not convinced, consider this ... She stood up for us last night. She danced with every single one of us, putting her reputation on the line. That won't sit well with Cornell. When he finds out what she wants from him, he'll marry her. He'll take her company." His expression turned grim. "And then he'll make her pay for daring to interfere."
Marco was right and Stefano knew it. There wasn't a doubt in his mind that Cornell had been in a fury the night before. He hadn't made any attempt to disguise it, which had prompted Alessandro's investigation.
Stefano owed Penelope. Hell, the whole family owed her. She'd done just as she'd promised by dancing with them, even insisting they all stay until the bitter end, laughing and joking and acting as if they didn't have a care in the world. She'd been a particular hit with the three wives, Carina, Grace and Hanna. By the end of the evening they'd been in a tight knot, chattering intimately with one another as though they were all lifelong friends.
And throughout that endless night, Stefano had longed to steal Penelope away from his family and sweep her onto the balcony to finish what they'd started there. To hold her in his anus and kiss her senseless. Kiss her until she'd forgotten all about Cornell and Janus Corp and her insane quest for a husband.
He glared at the office window his investigator had indicated belonged to Penelope. How could he allow her to assume the risk she seemed so determined to take? She might have been participating in the corporate world these past sixteen years, but clearly, she didn't have a clue when it came to someone like Cornell. She was accustomed to a board who obeyed, who didn't dare get down and dirty with the owner of the company paying their salary. But more important than that ... How could he let Cornell touch her?
Simple. He couldn't.
"Fine." Stefano swung around to face his family. "I'll approach her again. I'm not promising to marry the woman, but I'll try to secure her promise to sell us Janus."
"You'll speak to her before she meets with Cornell?"
"I'm not a fool." Stefano closed his eyes. Just an idiot! "I'll call her."
"Better yet, go and see her," Marco urged. "Use some of that Salvatore charm."
"She doesn't like charm. She told me so."
"Then use logic. And if that doesn't work ..."
"What?"
Marco grinned. "Try giving her that kiss she asked for last night."
* * *
Stefano hadn't come. Penelope released her breath in a regretful sigh. She'd hoped he would, hoped he'd decide that the advantages of marriage to her outweighed the disadvantages. Some secret part of her had been certain that his desire to get his hands on Janus would be stronger than his distaste for her proposal.
Impulsively she
rang through to her PA. "Have there been any messages?"
"Fourteen phone calls and nineteen e-mails."
"Are any from-"
"None are from Mr. Salvatore. I'm sorry, Ms.Wentworth.' '
The sympathy in Cindy's voice returned the steel to Penelope's backbone. "I'll be leaving for Benjamin's now to meet with Cornell. If my uncle asks for me, please inform him I'm out to lunch with a prospective client. Under no circumstances are you to tell him who I'm with or where I am."
"Yes, Ms. Wentworth. And if Mr.Salvatore phones?"
"He won't."
Returning the receiver to its cradle, Penelope stood and straightened her suit jacket. Gathering up her purse, she gave her office one final look. Maybe she should consider some new furniture. Just a few bits and pieces in warm, earthy tones with splashes of vibrant, jewel tones. And some photographs. A couple of choice family pictures of her parents and Uncle Loren scattered on the wall and coffee table. She made a mental note to mention it to Cindy and then instantly changed her mind. No, this would be one of life's "nasty details" she'd handle herself.
After all, it was about time.
* * *
"Where is she?"
"I'm sorry, sir. Ms. Wentworth isn't available."
"She is to me."
Stefano brushed past Penelope's assistant and shoved open the door leading to his soon-to-be fiancée’s office. The room was empty. Unable to help himself, he entered, examining the decor with a vague sensation of concern. It felt cold and stark. Functional. Not a single personal memento marred the various surfaces and even the colors left him with an impression of untouched remoteness. The entire room screamed, "business only."
As her PA had warned, Penelope had gone, leaving behind a delicious trail of the same subtle perfume she'd worn the night before. Now that, he decided grimly, wasn't "business only." "Where is she?" he asked the assistant.
"Sir, I can't-"
He turned to face her. "Let me make this easier for you. I'm Stefano Salvatore. Nellie and I have ... an arrangement pending. I'm forced to assume that because I'm late getting back to her, she's gone to meet Cornell for lunch. Am I correct so far?"
The assistant's expression gave him his answer. "Then all I need from you is when and where."
"I can't give you that information. It'll mean my job."
"We can't have that happen," he acknowledged.
He thought fast. Now where would someone like Nellie take a prospective bridegroom? No, that wasn't right. Where would someone like Penelope take a prospective business associate, especially one to whom she hoped to propose such an unusual merger? It didn't take much consideration. Benjamin's. Sedate, exclusive, highly private and far too bland for his tastes. It catered to high-powered businessmen intent on closing equally high-powered business deals.
Stefano shot the assistant a determined stare. "What time is her appointment at Benjamin's?"
"How did... ?" Her mouth compressed. "Noon. But if you mention I told you, you'd better have a new job lined up for me. And just so you know, I don't come cheap."
"You're not going to get fired. You might even get a raise out of it." Or she would as soon as he convinced Penelope that she was better off marrying him than Cornell.
"I'll hold you to that." She checked her watch. "I'm Cindy, by the way. And if you want to arrive in time, you'd better get a move on. Ms. Wentworth doesn't believe in running late. Nor does she accept such a failing in others."
Stefano took Cindy at her word. Checking his watch as he left Crabbe and Associates he realized he had a scant ten minutes to make it to the restaurant. Fate proved to be in a good mood. A cab pulled up to the curb the moment he lifted his arm and deposited him outside of Benjamin's at precisely one minute to noon. At twelve on the dot he approached Penelope just as she and Cornell were being led to their table.
"Sorry I'm late, cara," he said.
Snagging her around the waist, he snatched her away from Cornell and propelled her into his arms. This time he didn't hesitate. He kissed her. A hush descended, as though the world had paused to watch. Certainly he'd captured the attention of the people waiting for a table. Not that they concerned him for long. Something far more important held his interest.
Stefano's mouth locked over Penelope's, the fit more perfect than he could have imagined. He'd been a fool yesterday. He'd had the opportunity to kiss her in private and he hadn't taken advantage of it. He wouldn't make that mistake again. Beneath her businesslike exterior, Penelope Wentworth was lush and potent and delectable-a woman hidden beneath the trappings of the corporate world.
For the briefest of moments she resisted, her spine arching in silent protest. But the next instant everything changed. It was as though her body recognized and accepted what her mind rejected. With the most delicate of moans she opened to accommodate him, welcoming him home. Her lips were full and soft, and she tasted of coffee and a unique sweetness he'd never encountered before. To his surprise her hands slipped around his waist beneath his suit jacket and spread across his back, pressing him close.
His response was instantaneous. He tangled his hands in her hair and tilted her head to a more accessible angle. Then he drank with undisguised demand, claiming as much as he gave in return. She kissed with a delicate urgency, her unrestrained curiosity threatening his self-control. He could sense a deeper underlying hunger, an unfulfilled need he wanted to satisfy, here and now. Unfortunately here and now was impossible. He really should have accepted her offer last night when he could have brought a more satisfactory conclusion to the desperate desire building between them.
He ended the kiss with notable reluctance, taking a final taste before setting her free. She emerged from his embrace delightfully breathless, her hair and suit jacket just rumpled enough to erase the crisp, professional image she'd so carefully cultivated. No one would mistake her for anything other than a woman of depth and passion and strong emotion. They certainly wouldn't associate her with the cool, logical businesswoman who'd invaded his office the day before.
No. This was a passionate, vibrant woman burning with unmistakable hunger. It was a stunning revelation. As far as Stefano was concerned, it also sealed her fate. "You're mine now," he whispered against her mouth. "Signed, sealed and delivered."
"Do we have a deal?" she whispered back.
"Conditional upon final negotiations."
"Agreed. "
"Shall we finalize it with another kiss?"
She refused with a satisfactory amount of regret "I think we'll have to forgo that pleasure since it might prove a little awkward in our current setting."
"Spoilsport" -
She risked a quick glance over her shoulder. "What do we do about Cornell?"
"I need you to trust me." Stefano brushed her cheekbone with his thumb, eliciting another delicious tremor. "Follow my lead, okay?"
"It'll be a struggle," she murmured dryly. "But I'll give it a try."
"Excuse me, Penelope," Cornell interrupted. Irritation edged his voice. "Are we having lunch or not?"
She attempted to conceal her awkwardness behind a mask of brisk professionalism. "I'm sorry, Robert." She made introductions as they were shown to their table. "Have you met Stefano Salvatore?"
Cornell laughed. "It's possible. There are so many Salvatore boys it's tough keeping track." He pretended to consider. "Is this the thief?"
Stefano acknowledged the insult with a broad smile. He held out a chair for Penelope, then took the one next to her. Peering down, he was startled to discover two of his shirt buttons had come undone. Now when had that happened? He shot Penelope a speculative glance. Perhaps his bride-to-be had responded to his kiss more enthusiastically than he'd realized.
"Here's a way you can keep it straight," he informed Cornell. He rebuttoned his shirt with nonchalant disregard, using the task to add impact to his statement. "I'm the one about to marry Nellie." A nimble-fingered Nellie, it would seem.
"Nellie?" A deep frown formed between Cornell's
brows. "Who's Nellie?"
She sighed. "He means me."
It only took an instant for comprehension to dawn.
The news didn't sit well. "You two are getting married?"
"As soon as possible," Stefano confirmed. "And how do I fit into the scheme of things?"
"You don't."
Penelope stirred, uncomfortably aware that the next few minutes would prove extremely awkward. "Perhaps I should explain-"
