The Bride’s Proposition

by Day Leclaire

  She smiled up at him. "I explained all that. It was simple logic. I reviewed all the information, examined the various facts and reached a conclusion based on the evidence at hand."

  He lowered his head, his mouth a breath away from hers. "Cara mia," he whispered. "How many times do I have to tell you? The evidence condemned me."

  She closed the tiny gap separating them and kissed him ... kissed him with a hunger he couldn't mistake; telling him without words how she felt. "The conclusions drawn from that evidence were flawed. It just needed someone impartial to review the case."

  "You're not going to admit to bias, are you?"

  "Bias in favor of my husband? Don't be ridiculous."

  Her amusement faded, replaced by impassioned resolve. "You're an honorable man, Mr. Salvatore. And anyone who says different will have to deal with me."

  "I was once a man of honor," he told her regretfully. "Now I'm a man who will do anything and everything to protect his wife."

  She stared in confusion. Now what in the world did that mean? "I don't need protection."

  He didn't bother arguing. "What do you need?" he asked instead.

  "This... "

  Her mouth returned to his, forging a delicious union. For the first time since she'd mentioned a separation, he felt a resurgence of hope. She couldn't kiss him like this, respond to him like this if she wanted their marriage to end. She sank into the embrace with a soft moan, her hands fluttering from his shoulders to his chest. Giving in to the inevitable, he allowed her to strip away his tie and unbutton his shirt. As much as he'd like to wrinkle her a little in return, he didn't dare. If she was going to confront Cornell, she'd need all the self-confidence at her disposal.

  It wasn't until she encountered his bare chest that she came to her senses and reluctantly pulled away. "Stefano?"

  "Yes, cara?"

  "I have a confession."

  "And that would be?"

  She hesitated. "Maybe it should wait until after we've dealt with Cornell."

  He shook his head. "No, Nellie. Make your confession now. That way you won't be able to change your mind if things don't go as planned."

  "Okay." She moistened her lips. "I may have been hasty in suggesting we separate."

  He smiled tenderly. "An excellent confession, sweetheart."

  "I've been thinking." Her brows drew together. "If I leave you now, it could hurt your reputation."

  He swore beneath his breath in virulent Italian. "Dammit, Nellie! Not this again."

  She halted the barrage of words with her fingertips. "No, listen. If I sell Crabbe and then leave you, people will say it's because you didn't get what you wanted. If we beat Cornell and I leave, they'll think I uncovered something that discredited you. Either way, you'll pay the ultimate price."

  "Do you think I give a damn about any of that?"

  "No. But I do. Our marriage was my idea. You were supposed to benefit from it, not be hurt."

  "You could never hurt me."

  Her mouth trembled for a brief instant before she firmed it. "I already have. And I'm more sorry than I can possibly say."

  Stefano couldn't decide whether to laugh or grab Penelope and try to kiss some sense into her. Her confession wasn't what he wanted to hear. He'd hoped for a vow of undying love. He'd expected to hear her admit that she'd been wrong and that their marriage was a love affair that would endure for the rest of their lives. His hands collapsed into fists. As soon as he'd taken care of Cornell, he'd have to explain to Penelope how this wife business worked. Explain it in clear, rational, logical terms so his dear, sweet, overly emotional bride would understand.

  "Thank you for your confession," he muttered. "I think. Are you ready to take care of Cornell now?"

  "As ready as I'll ever be."

  She rubbed a trace of lipstick from his mouth and applied herself to his buttons, before straightening his tie. As soon as she'd finished, he slipped on his suit jacket and searched through his pockets for his tie clasp. He glanced at his wife, watching as she checked her makeup and hair. Satisfied, she faced him, offering a brilliant smile filled with grace and sweetness and unmistakable love. Did she even realize how she felt about him? Unlikely, considering how hard she fought the mere suggestion of emotional involvement.

  "Nice tie tack," she chattered, her nervousness getting the better of her. "Very fancy. It doesn't have your name on it like the one I gave you, but it'll do."

  "A recent purchase." He wrapped an arm around her shoulders, "Come on. Let's go."

  "Wait. There's one more thing I forgot to mention."

  He released his breath in a long-suffering sigh. "Another confession?"

  "Yes, another one."

  "Go ahead." He folded his arms across his chest. "You might as well get them all out in the open."

  "Okay. I love you." With a brisk nod, she headed for the door. Once there, she hesitated. "Ready?"

  "Cara?"

  She regarded him uncertainly. "Yes?"

  It took every ounce of self-control to keep from sweeping her into his arms and carrying her right out of the building. She loved him! He allowed himself a quick, triumphant grin. "Your timing leaves something to be desired."

  "Yes, it often does," she admitted regretfully. "I'm afraid that's what happens when you have a logical bent of mind. It can take a while to work through all the variables and arrive at an accurate conclusion."

  The urge to kiss her was replaced by a far different urge. He promised himself he'd have ample opportunity to express his objection to her 'logical bent' soon enough. "You realize we'll have to discuss this later."

  Her mouth tilted into a wry smile. "I assumed as much. Stefano?"

  "Yes, love?"

  "Are you very angry?"

  "Very." He relented ever so slightly. "But I expect I'll get over it."

  Cornell was waiting impatiently for their return, his lawyer standing protectively behind him. "Well? What's the decision?"

  "We'll sell," Penelope announced. "But on one condition."

  His expression grew cynical. "There's always a condition."

  "Let's see whether you're willing to agree to this one. Because, I assure you, it's a deal breaker if you don't."

  "Go on."

  "I want the truth about what happened with the Bennetts.'

  "You're joking."

  "Not even a little."

  "What makes you think I have information about that deal?" Cornell glanced at Stefano. "Perhaps you should ask your husband since he was the one directly involved."

  "Cut the crap, Cornell," Stefano interrupted. "We're not asking you to make a public announcement. We simply require confirmation from you."

  "Just out of curiosity, what will you do with that confirmation?"

  Stefano shoved his hands into his pockets. "There's not much we can do, is there?"

  "Then why bother?"

  Time to let a bit of air out of the man's overinflated ego. "I want to know once and for all whether you really are clever enough to pull off the perfect scam. You'll excuse me if I confess to having doubts."

  "What you really mean is ... Was it a lucky coincidence on my part or actual skill. Yes, I can see where the curiosity must be killing you. Okay, I'll throw you a bone. I'll tell you what I know about the Bennett situation." His voice flattened, acquiring an implacable tone. "But not until after Mrs. Salvatore signs the papers."

  Stefano shook his head. "Not a chance."

  "What's wrong?" Cornell mocked. "Don't you trust me?"

  "Not even a little."

  "Then it would appear we're at a stalemate."

  "I'll agree to signing first," Penelope spoke up. "If you'll agree to my lawyer holding the contract-without your signature-until after we've heard the truth."

  Stefano wished his wife wouldn't prove herself so damned predictable. "Don't, Nellie! This isn't what we discussed. It's not worth the-"

  She cut him off. "Don't worry, Stefano. I know what I'm doing."

  "That's op
en to debate."

  Cornell held up his hand. "You sign and my lawyer will hold the documents," he countered. "Salvatore can always tackle him and snatch the contract back if I don't live up to my end of the bargain."

  "Fine," Penelope concurred. "Your lawyer. Then once you've given us what we want, Crabbe is officially turned over to you and you can leave."

  "We'll conduct our ... discussion in private?" Cornell interrupted, sensing victory.

  "Of course."

  "Don't do it, Nellie," Stefano attempted to reason with her. "Not for my sake. The price is too high."

  Cornell rubbed his hands together. "I believe we have a deal."

  "Sir," Cornell's lawyer interrupted. "I must agree with Mr. Salvatore. This is not advisable. I most strongly recommend you-"

  "As the lady said, we know what we're doing, Curtis."

  "Sir-"

  Cornell's good humor vanished. "Bring everyone in here and let's get the final papers signed before Salvatore-or my own damned lawyer-convinces Mrs. Salvatore to change her mind."

  It didn't take long for all the lawyers and assistants to crowd into the room. In short order, Penelope had affixed her signature to the remaining documents. "I thought I took care of most of these earlier," she muttered at one point.

  "Just keep signing," Wilfred instructed. "Unless you've changed your mind?"

  "Don't sound so hopeful." The minute she'd finished, she handed the documents to Curtis. "Clear the room, please. Mr. Cornell and I have some unfinished business to discuss."

  The instant the three of them were alone, she turned to Cornell. "Well? I believe you have something to tell us. And let me warn you, if I don't hear the truth about who defrauded the Bennetts, I'll tear up those documents myself."

  Cornell stood and stretched. "Oh, you'll have the truth. Just one brief delay before we get down to business." Shoving a chair to the corner of the room, he positioned it beneath the video camera mounted near the ceiling. Standing on the seat, he ripped out the wiring. He threw Penelope a mocking smile over his shoulder. "I almost didn't see this. It's well disguised. But I trust you'll understand that I don't intend to have any recordings of my confession."

  Every scrap of color bleached from Penelope's cheeks and Stefano crossed to her side, dropping his hands on her shoulders. "Easy," he murmured.

  Cornell clicked his tongue in admonishment. "You didn't really think I was so gullible, did you? There could only be one reason why you'd want my confession in exchange for Crabbe and Associates. I kept looking until I found it."

  She tilted her chin to a defiant angle. "Does that mean you're going to break the deal?"

  "Not at all. I've disabled your camera. There's no reason not to finalize our agreement."

  "Are you sure you don't want to search us in case we're bugged?" she asked bitterly.

  "Not necessary, my dear. Your reaction when I disabled your precious camera tells me you only had the one card to play." He thrust the chair back toward the table and resumed his seat. "You know, my lawyer's right. This isn't a smart move on my part. It's never wise to confess one's crimes."

  "Then why do it?" she questioned.

  "Because he can't resist," Stefano replied. "His ego demands it. He doesn't want us to have the least doubt that he outmaneuvered us on each and every front, starting with the Bennetts."

  "Wrong again, Salvatore. It didn't start with the Bennetts." He aimed a cold gaze toward Penelope. "It started with Janus Corp. Unfortunately that didn't last long because your wife destroyed a particularly sweet deal I had going there."

  Penelope's mouth dropped open. "What?"

  "Come now, Mrs. Salvatore. Don't look so shocked.

  I couldn't very well use my own company as a front for a smuggling operation. What if I'd been caught? No, far better that some other enterprise take the risks for me." He smiled expansively. "You know, it's such a pleasure to have the two of you together like this. I can't tell you how much satisfaction it gives me to watch you both fall and fall hard. Two birds with one stone. A trite little cliché, but true nonetheless."

  "You ... you were the one who used Janus Corp to smuggle black market items?" Penelope asked in disbelief. "And you were behind the dummy corporation that took the Bennetts money, as well?"

  Cornell sighed. "Guilty as charged."

  "And putting the blame on Stefano. That was you too?"

  "Guilty and guiltier."

  "What about spreading the rumors about Loren Wentworth?" Stefano inserted smoothly, giving Penelope's shoulders another warning squeeze. "I assume that was also your work?"

  "I felt a certain responsibility to alert people that the head of Crabbe and Associates wasn't competent."

  "Regardless of the report's veracity?"

  Cornell lifted an eyebrow. "It's not true?" He shrugged. "Oh, well. The rumor accomplished what I'd intended, which is all that matters. The value of the company took a nosedive enabling me to pick it up at a rock bottom price. Calling Financial News and posing as you, Salvatore, was a particular stroke of genius, don't you think?"

  "I assume you used my name to create doubt in Nellie's mind about me?" Stefano continued.

  "Not that it worked," Cornell replied. "For a reasonably intelligent woman, she seems quite irrational where you're concerned."

  "Irrational!"

  "Easy, cara."

  "I'm not the least irrational." She glared at her nemesis. "I'll have you know that I'm one of the most logical, analytical-"

  Cornell waved her silent. "Are we through here? I'd like to leave."

  "Oh, we're through," Stefano assured. "There's just one problem."

  "And what's that?"

  "I'm afraid you'll find you paid a lot of money for very little."

  "Good try, Salvatore. But I don't consider Crabbe and Associates a 'little' company."

  "It isn't. It's my wife's interest in the company that's small. And that's what you bought. Her interest. As of thirty minutes ago she owned precisely one percent of the entire company. Now, if she'd decided to sell you Salvatores you could have made out quite well. She owns approximately ninety-nine percent of that company."

  Penelope turned to stare at him, her mouth dropping open again. "What?"

  "The papers you just signed. We traded ownership."

  Stefano's gaze fixed on Cornell and he offered a cold smile. ''You know how it is with married couples. What's hers is mine. What's mine is hers."

  "This won't hold up in a court of law! It's fraud."

  "Somehow I don't think this will ever come to court. I think you'll have other legal matters occupying your attention." He raised his voice. "Did you get Cornell's confession, Wilfred?"

  The door popped open. "It came through just fine, Mr. Salvatore. I'm afraid we had to physically restrain Mr. Curtis. He was most unhappy with the direction of your conversation. The newspaper people were quite intrigued, though. I believe they'd like to ask Mr. Cornell some questions."

  Tears formed in Penelope's eyes. "How? When? I don't understand any of this."

  "Let's send Cornell on his way and then I'll answer all your questions." Removing his tie clip and the miniaturized audio/video equipment, Stefano deactivated everything and tossed the pieces to the conference table. "I think we're done with these. Especially since I'd rather not record the rest of our conversation."

  Cornell leapt to his feet, his hands bunching into fists.

  "You'll pay for what you've done, Salvatore."

  Stefano simply shrugged. "Since you appreciate trite little clichés, how about this one? In for a penny ... " He dropped Cornell with a single powerful, eminently satisfying blow. "In for a pound."

  Penelope came to stand beside him, her golden eyes reflecting her approval. "I wonder if Don Quixote ever tried doing things your way, Stefano. I'll bet he'd have defeated some of those windmills if he had."

  "Or maybe we should change that bronze statue you bought me from Quixote to Rocky Balboa." Stefano returned his attention to the man drape
d across his wife's conference room floor. "Listen up, Cornell. The Bennetts didn't deserve what you did to them. Nor did my wife. Touch either of them again and you won't have one Salvatore to deal with, you'll have six."

  "That's right," Penelope contributed. "Nobody messes with what belongs to my husband. I hope you've learned your lesson."