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Delucca's Marriage Contract

Page 3

by Abby Green


  A dress that skimmed out over womanly hips, dipping in to her small waist before curving sinuously over perfect breasts, tantalisingly visible in the open V that showed her flesh from neck to navel. The whole apparatus seemed to be precariously held in place by a gold hoop necklace that showed off her bare shoulders and arms.

  That glorious red hair was bigger than it had been earlier, tousled and falling down behind her shoulders. Gianni was stunned. In shock. She looked like a call girl, but he felt the sharp kick of a lust so powerful it shocked him. Even as he was vowing that she would never, ever, appear in public with him again dressed like this.

  And then that green, heavily made-up gaze settled on him and she raised an arm and called across the muted dimly lit bar, ‘There you are!’

  Gianni winced and hated himself for it, as those long legs ate up the luxuriously carpeted distance and every head swivelled to follow her leonine progress. Dio. He’d seen more clothes on a Las Vegas showgirl. Even if she did move with an innately sensual grace that made his lust kick even more, confounding him. Was he really so rough underneath the respectable sheen he’d acquired that he appreciated this?

  She reached him and stopped, her feet strapped into insanely delicate and ornate-looking gold high-heeled sandals. She obviously misread his interest and lifted one foot and said chummily as if he really cared, ‘Just off the catwalk.’ She rolled her eyes. ‘Like, this is ridiculous. I could happily live and shop here for ever.’

  Then she looked at him and clapped a hand to her mouth, eyes widening comically before she said, ‘I can’t believe I just said that! That’s exactly what I’ll be doing when we get married!’

  Gianni was conscious of people looking and whispering and felt the prickle of that public scrutiny. And the need to get away from it. Which is what Keelin O’Connor should be helping him with, along with the kudos of joining forces with O’Connor Foods.

  Angry that she was putting doubts in his mind again, Gianni took her elbow and said tightly, ‘We should go, they’re waiting for us in the restaurant.’

  He gritted his jaw as a wave of that noxious perfume assaulted his nostrils again. Keelin was resisting ever so slightly and he looked at her. She made a small pout. ‘Not even time for a weensy glass of prosecco?’

  She gushed, ‘I love prosecco, it’s my new favourite drink. I had it in the spa this afternoon while I was getting my nails done.’

  She shoved her hand under his nose then and waggled her fingers, showing off blood-red talons with a diamanté sparkle in the center of each one. His stomach lurched.

  ‘You like?’

  Gianni swallowed a sense of doom and took advantage of her momentary distraction to keep moving. ‘They’re fantastic.’

  As they walked out of the bar and across the marbled lobby, Gianni noticed a few men almost get whiplash, their heads jerked so hard when they saw Keelin. To his disgust, he felt a very uncharacteristic urge to go and snarl at every one of those men to keep their gazes on their own women.

  Keelin was chattering away, blissfully unaware, ‘...and I’m sorry I was late but I saw the most divine ruby necklace that would set off the peach resort dress I bought today, and then they had this thing on the Discovery channel about dogs—’ She gripped his arm just as the maître d’ of the restaurant caught his eye and ushered him in.

  Gianni stopped and looked at her impatiently. ‘Yes?’

  She was gazing up at him, wide green eyes hopeful. ‘Can we have a dog, please? I’ve always wanted a dog and Daddy never let me have one because he said I wasn’t responsible enough.’

  Her lower lip trembled. Cristo, was she about to cry? Gianni felt a clawing sense of claustrophobia, desperation. He dragged in a breath and reassured himself she was just excited and overwhelmed. It had been a mistake to give her the credit card; clearly she couldn’t be trusted with unlimited funds. They’d talk over dinner and she wouldn’t be as silly as he feared she was. She couldn’t be.

  ‘We’ll discuss it, okay?’

  Her green eyes shone with hope and gratitude, bright with unshed tears. ‘Thank you, Gianni, so much. I know we’re going to be really happy together. Daddy promised you’d take care of me, just like he has.’

  Gianni didn’t have time to let that last little bombshell land because the maître d’ was leading them to the table. Daddy promised you’d take care of me? She was looking at him like a father figure? When he was looking at her and feeling a powerful mix of desire and disgust? Now he was freaked out on top of everything else.

  An hour later, Gianni was also very much in doubt that any kind of happiness lay on the horizon. Irritation perhaps. Now that definitely featured. But he schooled his features and affected nothing but extreme interest in his fiancée, who he suspected could make an Olympic sport out of chattering inanely without drawing breath.

  When she did pause to draw breath for one moment, Gianni took advantage and put up a hand to stop her next monologue about the way she felt reality-TV shows were so true to life.

  ‘Keelin, we need to talk about this marriage.’

  CHAPTER TWO

  KEELIN WAS ACTUALLY relieved that Gianni had cut her off. She’d been ready to scream and had just been wondering what the hell she could witter on about next. But now she registered what he’d just said and suddenly air was in short supply. She forced a bright vacuous smile. ‘Okay.’

  He looked at her and she felt acutely self-conscious in the ridiculous outfit she was wearing. Her skin felt tight, sensitive. She was aware of her bare breasts brushing against the material of her dress or the material that called itself a dress. Her nipples were as hard as bullets and Keelin’s frustration mounted.

  ‘Look,’ he said, ‘I won’t lie. I want this deal with your father and if that means marrying you, then I’m willing to do it, but I’m not such an ogre that I’ll force someone into a marriage they don’t want.’

  The fact that he was actually being reasonable barely impacted. Keelin thought fast. If she fessed up now, then Gianni would walk away but tell her father that she’d called it off. And her father would never give her a chance to prove herself. It would be seen as one more rebellion, even though she’d stopped rebelling long ago.

  No. She needed it to look like Gianni had rejected her, and at least that way she’d have proved her devotion to the company and her father would have to give her a chance.

  Crossing everything she could, Keelin said breathily, ‘My father loves me and I know he would only choose someone he really respected and trusted to marry me.’ She widened her eyes. ‘I only want what’s best for O’Connor Foods and if I can help Daddy by doing this, then I’m happy.’ She almost choked on the word Daddy.

  Gianni’s face was utterly expressionless and it made Keelin nervous. She couldn’t read him. Was she overacting? Underacting?

  He spoke slowly. ‘You need to know this will only ever be a marriage born out of a business arrangement. This will never be about hearts and flowers, Keelin. Any children will be heirs to both our family legacies, keeping the names alive. That’s why we’re doing this. And if you think you can live with those circumstances, then I’ll be happy to let your father know we’ll marry in two weeks.’

  Gianni’s words resonated deep inside her. This will never be about hearts and flowers. The thought of falling in love with a ruthless businessman like Gianni made Keelin go cold all over. It would be the worst kind of repetition of a lesson she’d already learnt too well. It would never happen. She felt vulnerable just thinking about it and repressed a shudder.

  She pushed that revelation down deep and giggled girlishly. ‘After the way you’ve been looking after me already? I just know I’m going to love it here.’

  A muscle in his jaw popped slightly at that and Keelin felt a rush of satisfaction. He couldn’t be as sanguine as he looked. He would have a breaking point as
to what kind of a wife he’d accept and she intended to find it.

  Gianni put down his napkin. ‘Very well then, I’ll let your father know the good news.’

  Keelin was already relishing the chance to get out of this man’s disturbing orbit so she could think of her next move, but then he said, ‘I have something for you.’

  She looked at him, and then at the small velvet box he’d taken out of his jacket pocket. Damn. A ring.

  Gianni opened the box and Keelin was almost dazzled by a huge square-cut diamond. It was a beautiful ring but not remotely original. Impersonal. Which was fitting. So why did something deep inside her feel ever so slightly disappointed at this evidence of Gianni’s lack of consideration. She should be rejoicing!

  ‘It’s lovely.’ She commented dutifully, and with what she hoped was a suitably dazzled smile.

  ‘See if it fits.’ Gianni plucked it out of the box and held it out.

  Keelin slid the glittering ring onto her finger. It fit like a glove. As if the universe was conspiring with Gianni and her father to trap her. She dutifully moved her hand this way and that and thought to herself how far removed it was from the kind of ring she’d choose for herself.

  Gianni was looking at his watch now and Keelin had a clear sense that she and the ring were on a checklist of things to do and she didn’t like the old sensation of resentment that surged up like bile.

  He looked back at her. ‘It’s been a long day. I’m sure you’d like to get some rest. I’ll call the wedding planner in the morning to arrange a meeting.’

  Keelin smiled sweetly and let Gianni guide her back out of the hotel restaurant even as she realised that she needed to up her game if she was going to really ruffle this man’s incredible sense of complacency.

  He turned to her at the lifts and smiled and for a second Keelin forgot everything as she registered his sheer charisma and good looks. The lift doors opened and he held them back while she stepped in. His scent wound around her, making her feel a little hazy.

  ‘Buonanotte, Keelin. Till tomorrow.’

  She smiled when she wanted to grimace, hating his effect on her. ‘Goodnight, Gianni.’

  The lift doors closed on that far too distracting and darkly handsome face and Keelin sagged back against the mirrored wall. Delucca was about to learn that the meek and biddable wife he believed he’d acquired was anything but. And why did that suddenly feel like such an uphill battle?

  For all of his apparent civility, Keelin had seen something hard in the depths of those dark eyes. Something immovable. And she wasn’t sure if she wanted to tangle with it, no matter how determined she was.

  * * *

  It was the following evening before Keelin got to see Gianni again. He’d called her that morning and made his apologies but something had come up and he was going to be unavoidably detained in meetings all day.

  Keelin had sweetly said not to worry about it. She was used to that treatment and couldn’t let it get to her now. It wasn’t as if she was actually going to have to deal with it after all.

  In any case she had been busy all day, too, with the enthusiastic wedding planner and very obsequious Harrington Hotel PR manager. She’d almost felt sorry for them both, knowing that she was likely to make this wedding more infamous than famous.

  Keelin checked her reflection in the mirror now and grimaced. She was wearing a glittery all-in-one black jumpsuit, complete with gold belt and slits up the side of each leg, visible when she walked. Together with vertiginous heels and copious amounts of gold jewellery, she was blingtastic.

  When the knock came on her suite door she took a deep breath, not liking the flutters in her belly at the thought of seeing Gianni again. What was that about?

  She opened the door and her hand tightened around the knob reflexively. He was even more devastating than she remembered. A dark shadow of stubble on his jaw. Shirt and tie, dark suit. A picture of casual Italian elegance yet with a masculine edge that was all too raw.

  ‘Buonasera, Keelin, are you ready?’

  Keelin nodded and noticed that his eyes dropped over her attire but he didn’t compliment her. Because he couldn’t bring himself to? She hoped so, because she guessed with another kind of woman compliments would roll off his tongue. A rogue part of her shivered to think of standing before him in something far more her, and wanting his compliments. On the way down to the lobby he apologised again for being detained and she waved it aside, smiling. ‘Please don’t worry. I had a hectic day too.’

  As he led her out of the hotel, she managed to keep up an inconsequential but hopefully very annoying chatter about all the minutiae of the wedding preparations, knowing how men in general detested anything like that.

  She was still chattering while Gianni led her outside to a low-slung silver bullet of a sports car and then started again as soon as he sat into the driver’s seat. Only the flicker of that muscle in his jaw told her she was hitting any kind of mark.

  When she was drawing breath for another round of the most uninteresting conversation ever, Gianni interjected smoothly, ‘I thought you might like to have dinner at my apartment? I have a view overlooking the Colosseum.’

  Dammit. Those flutters were back at the prospect of being alone with this man. She made a small pout. ‘I do love to people-watch but I suppose we have lots to discuss.’

  He slid her a dark glance—and was that a hint of irritation she could see around his mouth? She hoped so.

  ‘Yes,’ he agreed, ‘we do have lots to talk about. I thought a quieter location might be more suitable.’

  In any other instance Keelin would have appreciated his consideration but not now. But was she already going so far that he was reluctant to show her off in public? That had to be a good thing. It wasn’t long before they were pulling up outside a formidable-looking building. Very old, but with an interesting architectural twist of lots of glass. Keelin liked it and found herself asking without thinking, ‘Is this where you live?’

  Gianni nodded as he parked the car with effortlessly sexy skill. ‘It houses my offices too. I own the whole building.’

  Keelin watched, a little dumbfounded by his admission, as he unfolded his tall powerful frame from the car and came around to her side to let her out. She had to put out a hand for his help and when his strong fingers closed around hers she felt the blood pulse between her legs.

  No! Everything in her rejected this attraction.

  He drew her up and they were so close they were almost touching. Keelin saw his eyes track down to the top of her jumpsuit and saw them flare. Panic gripped her. She was meant to be turning him off, not on. And that went for herself too.

  Something resolute crossed his face as if he was fighting a similar battle in his own head. He stepped back and let her hand go. Keelin’s blood was pumping so fast that she felt a little light-headed.

  A doorman opened the door for them and Gianni introduced him as Lorenzo. Keelin smiled politely, and then they were ascending in the lift and the confined steel box was doing little to make her less aware of him. He seemed to take up a ridiculous amount of space.

  When the doors slid open, there was a small plush corridor and Gianni was opening the door into the most stunning apartment Keelin had ever seen. She tried not to be impressed, to affect a blasé response, but it was a challenge not to let her jaw drop.

  It was enormous, obviously the length and width of the building. Open plan but broken up by seriously luxurious discreet furnishings. Everything from the art on the walls to the rugs on the floors was perfectly pitched and placed. Seriously impressive.

  She’d been facing away from Gianni and now he walked around in front of her. She quickly schooled her features into something more disinterested and said, ‘This is your only home in Rome?’

  Gianni nodded. ‘What did you expect, cara? A palatial villa on one
of Rome’s most exclusive hills overlooking gardens that belonged to emperors?’

  Keelin made a small shrug and said, ‘I wasn’t sure what to expect.’ Hoping to project disappointment.

  Gianni said dryly, ‘I do also own a villa in Umbria.’

  Keelin feigned delight. ‘I believe it’s beautiful there.’

  ‘It is. I expect it’s where you’ll spend a lot of time once we’re married, but of course you’ll be welcome in the city whenever you need diversion.’

  Gianni walked over to a phone, saying, ‘I’ll call the chef and let him know we’re ready to eat.’

  It was just as well he was facing away from her because Keelin was glaring at his back. He expected that she’d be happy to be farmed out to some crumbling Italian villa so that he could get on with his own, obviously far more important, life?

  Maybe he saw her out there with a brood of dark-haired sons, grooming them to be the perfect heirs. For a second though, Keelin’s anger was pierced by something very scary to think of a miniature Gianni running around.

  She crushed that image ruthlessly. This is exactly what her parents had done. Left her alone in their cavernous house for long months at a time. It was time to push Gianni off his complacent perch.

  Within seconds of him making the call, discreet staff were preparing the dining room and he led her into the glass-walled space. Keelin did her best not to notice the stunning decor and assured herself she wouldn’t be coming here for diversions.

  Staff opened some champagne and she pushed down the queasiness, saying brightly, ‘We should probably discuss the important stuff, like children.’

  Gianni looked at her, cheeks flaring slightly with colour—because she was talking about this in front of his staff? He waited until they were alone and he lifted his glass of sparkling wine. ‘You want to discuss that now?’

 

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