by Day Leclaire
"A whirlwind romance?" Loren didn't bother to conceal his shock. "With our Penelope?"
Stefano chuckled. "I think it's taken her by surprise, too."
"Well, the best of luck to you. She's a special woman, as I'm sure you're aware."
"Quite special."
"Then I won't delay you further." Loren clapped Stefano on the shoulder. "I assume you know where her office is?"
"Yes, thanks." The query reminded him of why he'd come. He fixed a steely gaze on the office door in question. "If you'll excuse me."
He didn't bother waiting for a response. Brushing past Cindy, he thrust open the door and slammed it closed behind him. It was obvious Penelope had been expecting him. A pleased little smile decorated the mouth he intended to ravish in the next few minutes.
"Give it to me," he demanded. "I don't know what you're-"
He strode to the window and ripped the drapes apart.
The poster was gone. "What did you do with it?"
"I destroyed it."
"The hell you did." He turned and scanned the office. A telltale roll of paper poked out from beneath the cushion of her couch. "Bingo."
"No, wait!" She leapt to her feet and tried to intercept him before he could achieve his goal. "It's mine, Stefano. You can't have it."
"Yes, I can. It's my present and I want it."
"It's not your present. The binoculars were your present. This was just-"
He swept her to one side and snagged the rolled-up poster. "A tease? Your cute way of getting even with me for the lingerie?"
"It was a joke." She tried to take the poster away from him. "Please, Stefano,"
"Not until I have a closer look."
Ignoring her protests, he slowly unrolled the paper. Every nerve ending in his body clenched. Nellie-his proper, businesslike, Penelope-had donned the lingerie he'd sent and had a photo taken. She knelt with her back to the camera, smoky nylons caressing every inch of long, slender legs, her pert, rounded bottom showcased by an almost nonexistent pair of panties and garter. Her spine was. arched and she'd lifted her hands to the blond waves of hair spilling down her back, the wire-rimmed glasses he'd given her dangling carelessly from her fingertips. And most gut-wrenching of all, she'd turned ever so slightly, exposing the vulnerable curve of her breast.
He fought for breath. "Where the hell is the bra I gave you?"
She pointed to the bottom of the poster. Sure enough, the scrap of silk and lace lay discarded at her feet. "I couldn't decide whether I liked this one best or the ones with the bra. The photographer convinced me to go without."
"I'm going to kill him."
"Her."
He was only slightly mollified. "Tell me you have every last negative."
"I'm not an idiot. Of course I have all the negatives. I intend to burn them."
"Not a chance."
"I only did it to get back at you for sending that first present."
"You succeeded. You've also caused a riot."
"What are you talking about?"
He carefully rolled the poster. It was either that, or pick up Penelope, dump her on the couch and strip her down to the bits and pieces she'd displayed in the photo. "I'm talking about half the Salvatore employees who were practically falling out of their windows because they were so busy gawking at the poster stuck on your window. One of the more enterprising ones happened to have a pair of binoculars in his office. He was renting them for fifty bucks a minute."
"You're making that up," she scoffed. He gave her a look that had her mouth snapping shut and an attractive shade of pink tinting her cheeks. "You're serious?"
"Dead serious."
"I... He ..." She glared. "No one could possibly have known it was me. My arm hides my face."
He glared back. "Everyone knows it's you! You sent the damned binoculars."
"So, I sent you binoculars." She shrugged. "What difference does that make?"
"They arrived in the middle of a family meeting. I have five brothers. It didn't take them long to figure out what they should do with your gift."
Her complacency vanished. "How could you?" she stormed. "The binoculars were for you, not your brothers."
"Let me repeat. I have five brothers. The odds were not in my favor." He smiled grimly. "Although you won't have any trouble telling me from Marco for the next few days. He'll be the one sporting the black eye."
"You didn't!"
"I sure did." He held out his hand. "The negatives."
"You can't have them."
"Consider them a wedding present."
"We're not getting married, yet. We're not even engaged."
"Wrong. After that cute stunt, we're going to announce our engagement immediately and follow it with a ceremony on your birthday. It's the only way to protect you."
She stared in utter bewilderment. "Protect me?"
"That's right. Because the first wisecrack said in my presence is going to be met with a fist. I suspect a ring on your finger will keep most comments in check."
"You'd hit someone just because they said something snide about me?"
He struggled to control the fury surging through him, fought to keep his voice low and nonthreatening. Judging by the alarm flickering in her gold eyes, he'd failed miserably. "You don't know what it is to lose your reputation. You don't know what it is to have people whisper behind your back, to look at you as though you'd crawled out of a cesspool. I do. If there's any way I can prevent your going through that, I will!"
Compassion darkened her gaze. "Oh, Stefano."
"I don't want pity!"
"It's just a risqué poster," she whispered. "It won't affect my reputation."
"Don't you understand? By marrying me, you'll be tarred with my brush. Crabbe and Associates standing in the community will keep most of the talk in check. But not all of it. Not if Cornell decides to cause trouble. When our relationship ends, it will be with your reputation intact. I refuse to allow our marriage to cause you any trouble. I'll do everything in my power to protect you from that."
"Do you really think the poster will damage my reputation? Don't you think that's a bit Victorian?"
"I'm not taking any chances. Once we're married, it won't be an issue. With luck, the blame will fall on me. They'll think I've been a bad influence." He offered a crooked smile. "And they'll be right. Somehow I doubt you'd have pulled this crazy stunt with anyone else."
A knock sounded at the door and Loren glanced in.
"Am I interrupting?"
"Not at all," Penelope greeted him with unmistakable warmth. "Come on in and let me make introductions."
Loren crossed the room and offered his hand to Stefano. "Hello, there," he said with a friendly smile. "Have we met?"
CHAPTER EIGHT
STEFANO recovered swiftly, smoothing over the briefest of awkward pauses by returning Loren's handshake. "Stefano Salvatore. Good to see you."
"The name's familiar." Loren wrinkled his brow. "But I can't quite place where I've heard it before."
Stefano slanted a quick glance toward Penelope, not in the least surprised to see the tightness edging her mouth. "My family runs an import/export business. Our building is directly across from yours."
"You're a friend of Penelope's?"
"We're good friends,"
"Business?" Loren probed delicately.
"Personal."
"Penelope," her uncle chided. "Shame on you for being so secretive."
"It's all very sudden, Uncle Loren," she hastened to explain. "Perhaps we could have dinner together later this week so you and Stefano have an opportunity to get better acquainted."
"Excellent idea." As though suddenly recalling why he'd come, he held out a folder. "Cindy said you were looking for this. I don't know how it ended up on my desk. I guess someone dropped it off by mistake."
Stefano could feel the tension pouring off Penelope and experienced a twinge of sympathy. She'd been carrying an impossible burden for some time now. Fortunately for her,
it was one he'd soon share. "Thank you for finding it for me," she murmured.
"My pleasure," Loren held out his hand again.
"Good to meet you, Stefano. I look forward to that dinner."
The minute the older man left, Stefano turned and faced Penelope. "Something you'd care to tell me, cara?"
"No."
"You're certain?"
She had trouble meeting his gaze. No surprise there. "Positive.''
"Perhaps I should mention that your uncle and I met out in the hallway right before I walked in here." He allowed her a moment to assimilate that bit of information before continuing. "He didn't recognize me just now. I can only think of one explanation to account for that."
She lifted her chin, refusing to back down. It was a brazen approach, he'd give her that. Too bad it wouldn't work. "Really?" she said in a surprisingly composed voice. "And what would that explanation be?"
"Your uncle is the small matter that would compromise the interests of Crabbe and Associates, the one you couldn't tell me about. What's wrong with him? Alzheimer's? Dementia? Early senility?"
"Please, Stefano-"
"You're protecting both your uncle and the firm by getting married and taking control away from him. And you're hoping to do it before word leaks about his condition. Am I right so far?"
"You know I can't answer that," she retorted.
An irrational fury gripped him. "Because you're afraid if you tell me the truth I'll pass on the information?" His Italian accent grated, even on his own ears, betraying the depths of his pain. "After all, I'm Stefano Salvatore.'
"Stop it!" She turned on him and he realized he'd pushed her to the breaking point. "I have a responsibility to my companies. I couldn't tell you about Loren. I couldn't tell anyone. Have you any idea what would happen if word got out?"
He knew precisely what would happen. "The value of your company would take a nosedive. You'd also start losing contracts."
"Exactly. I don't care for myself. But what would happen to my employees, to all the individuals dependent on my company? I have to put their best interests ahead of my own. It isn't a matter of not trusting you, Stefano."
"And now that I've uncovered your secret?"
She waved that aside as if it were of no account. "Credit me with some intelligence. You won't say anything."
"You're so positive?"
"You want to know how positive I am? You won't even tell your family. And from what I've seen, you Salvatores tell each other everything." She poked her finger against his chest. "I'll go you one better. Even if you were to tell them, the information would stop right there."
Her certainty pleased him, perhaps because she hadn't based it in logic, but rather on sheer instinctive emotion. But most important of all ... She trusted him. "That said, you'd rather they not find out."
She inclined her head. "The more people aware of the problem, the greater the risk that something inadvertent will be said. I've had a difficult enough time covering for him."
He didn't doubt that for a minute. "So now we marry and you gain your inheritance by assuming control of Crabbe. What then?"
"When I first approached you with my proposition, you thought I wanted to make a power grab. I didn't. I don't want to take over the business." She twisted her hands together. "I want to get rid of it."
He couldn't conceal his shock. "Nellie-"
"It's decided. Stefano," she said, her tone adamant. "I'm going to sell Crabbe and Associates. I'm well aware of my own limitations. I'm not qualified to step into my uncle's shoes. That's all there is to it."
"What will you do instead?"
"I suspect there will be plenty of job offers to assess. I enjoy the corporate world. I'm good at what I do and I intend to continue working." She shrugged. "Just not as head of a company the size of Crabbe. I prefer something smaller and more intimate. Fortunately the profits from the sale will give me time to make up my mind, though I'm giving the bulk of the money to Loren, Considering he and my father were the ones who made the firm into what it is, he's more than earned it."
"If that's what you want to do, I'll support your decision. I will say, it's a shame to have the business pass out of your family after all your father and uncle have done to build it." He gathered her close, sliding a thumb across the arch of her cheekbone. "How long have you been dealing with this?"
She released her breath in a tired sigh. "I started noticing small slips about a year ago, but kept dismissing each new incident. Then he blew a huge account and I couldn't ignore the situation any longer. I suggested last month that we sell Crabbe and Associates."
"I assume Loren refused?"
"He wouldn't hear of it. I think he's afraid. Agreeing to sell means acknowledging his disease and he can't bring himself to do that." She relaxed against Stefano, a regretful smile playing about her mouth. "I guess the need to be in control runs in the family."
"How will he react when you take over?"
"He won't have any choice. He'll bluster. But secretly I suspect he'll be relieved."
Stefano took a moment to consider their options. Not that there were many. In fact, he could only come up with one. "You realize our marriage has become imperative now. If word gets out about Loren, you'll never be able to sell the business for what it's worth."
"I'm well aware of that."
He reached into his pocket and removed a small jeweler’s box. "I've been carrying this around with me for the past few days, waiting for the right moment. I think that moment's arrived." He flipped open the lid and removed the ring, a ruby and diamond entwined in the shape of a heart. Taking her hand in his, he slid the ring onto her finger. "Will you marry me, Nellie?"
"It's beautiful," she whispered unsteadily. "Rubies are my birthstone."
"And diamonds are mine. That's why I chose this particular ring." His voice deepened. "The jeweler told me that rubies mean devotion and integrity, and that diamonds represent invincibility and good fortune. I can only hope he's right."
She smiled through her tears. "They also represent innocence, something I'm hoping we'll soon prove."
"It's a good combination, Nellie. A winning combination." He pulled her close again. "What do you say? Will you marry me?"
"You know I will."
"You won't regret it. I'll help you take care of this. I'll make sure you're protected." He lowered his mouth to hers. "I promise."
****
"Nervous?" Stefano asked.
Penelope glanced at the door leading to the judge's chambers and nodded. "A little," she admitted. "It helps that we decided to get married in San Francisco. I don't think I could have handled a trip to Vegas."
"I prefer marrying at home, too. That way we can return to my apartment for our wedding night."
Oh, dear heaven. Their wedding night. She straightened her beaded ivory suit jacket with trembling hands. "Good idea. We'll also be able to have Honor with us."
"Right. The cat," he muttered. "Just what I wanted on my honeymoon."
"It's not a honeymoon! It's a-"
"A wedding night. Close enough." She lapsed into silence at that and he eyed her with uncomfortable intensity. "I brought something I hoped would make you less nervous. But I have the nasty feeling it'll only make matters worse."
"What is it?"
"Here." He offered a beautifully wrapped box. "Please let this be something sweet and silly." That way it would match what she'd gotten him.
''Afraid not." His mouth curved into a wry smile. "I'm guessing it's going to be one of those emotional moments you despise so much."
"I appreciate the warning." She opened the box and closed her eyes, fighting to draw breath. "Oh, Stefano. What have you done?"
He gently removed a short lace veil, clearly decades old. "My great-grandmother came from Burano and made this for my mother's wedding day. None of the other Salvatore brides have had an opportunity to wear it, since their weddings have all been a trifle ... unconventional. You'll be the first."
&
nbsp; She fought to keep her tone light. "Ours is considered conventional?"
Stefano shrugged. "Believe it or not, it is compared to the rest of my brothers."
"Frightening."
"I think the veil qualifies as something old, as well as something borrowed."
"Why are you doing this?" Her mouth trembled and she pressed her lips together before continuing. "It's not like we'll have a real marriage."
