Her back teeth ground together. She shoved the troubling memories to the back of her mind. She had to stay focused on their business arrangement.
Franco wasn’t interested in her. He’d made that abundantly clear on the car ride home...erm, to his place. But then there had been that kiss in her office. What was up with that?
She didn’t know the answer. He confused her, and that was another reason not to get too comfortable in this new living arrangement. Everything was only temporary, except for the business. And she had to be extra careful that Franco didn’t take over.
Franco expelled a frustrated sigh, crossed his arms and leaned back in his chair. “I don’t know what you want from me. You keep rejecting my suggestions.”
“Because they are—” She hesitated as she searched for the right word. She wanted something less bold but maybe she just needed to be up front about it all. “Well, it’s boring.”
“Boring?” When she nodded, he said, “I don’t hear you coming up with any better ideas.”
“I’ve been giving it some thought.”
“And the only way for patrons to become familiar with our spices is to have them in front of them and to try them on their food.”
“I think that’s one way.” Her phone buzzed with a new message from her assistant, wanting to know if she should order them lunch in. Carla responded that it was good idea.
“Okay. Keep going. What else do you have in mind?”
She thought he was agitated with her, but when she glanced up, she noticed interest reflected in his eyes. “I’ve done some brainstorming.”
He leaned forward. “Let me see what you have come up with.”
She closed her laptop. “I don’t think so.”
He frowned at her. “I thought this was a partnership, one where we shared everything including the good and the bad.”
“But this is just some brainstorming. A list of ideas.”
“Good.” He reached for her laptop. “Maybe something on your list will help us.”
She slid the laptop out of his reach. “I don’t think you understand. This is a stream-of-consciousness technique that I’ve learned to do. It’s just whatever popped into my mind at the moment.” And she would feel too exposed if he were to read it.
He sighed and then he leaned toward her, resting his elbows on the table. “If we’re going to work together, we have to be able to trust each other.”
Her gaze met his. “I’ve been told to be wary of Marchellos.”
“And yet you married one.”
She opened her mouth and then promptly closed it without uttering a word. He was right. She just had to put her father’s negativity and predictions of doom and gloom out her mind. He didn’t know Franco like she knew him. He was an honorable man, who cared about his family and his family’s business. Franco might not have any allegiance to her, but if he wanted his business to succeed, he needed her business to succeed.
With a resigned sigh, Carla opened her laptop and slid it across the table to him.
“Are you sure?” His gaze searched hers.
When she nodded, he pulled the laptop closer and his gaze perused her ideas—some were totally outlandish, others were too basic but hopefully there would be something in there that they could build upon, because time was ticking.
“I like this one,” Franco said.
Since she couldn’t see what he was pointing at, she asked, “Which one?”
He glanced up at her and gave her a sheepish grin that made her stomach dip. “Sorry. I forgot that you aren’t looking at the screen with me. Why don’t you move over here next to me?”
She wasn’t so sure that switching her seat was such a good idea. There was something reassuring about having a big wood table between them. There was little chance of their fingers touching or their bodies brushing up against each other. It kept the match of desire from being struck and passion from flaming up and destroying this productive business relationship that they were struggling to form.
But it wasn’t like they were conducting some heated affair. Sure, their wedding night was nice, but it wasn’t anything spectacular—oh, who was she kidding? No one had ever kissed her quite the way Franco had done. When she was in his arms, she felt as though she were the only woman in the world.
Still, if she didn’t move next to him, it was like admitting that his nearness got to her—that he had some sort of power over her. She glanced over at him as he continued to study her list. Her pulse raced as she took in his handsome face with his dark eyes, smooth skin and strong jawline. She was kidding herself, because nothing could be further from the truth. He did get to her. She just had to learn to ignore her body’s heady response to him.
Against her better judgment, she stood. She moved around to the other side of the table and sat down next to him. She made sure to leave a respectable distance between them.
Franco pointed to the screen. “I think the first two are a bit out of our reach, and we don’t really have the time to do something so involved.”
“I... I agree.”
“But this third one about incorporating the spices into your menu is a great idea.”
“You like it?” The words slipped past her lips before she could stop them.
“Actually, I have our kitchen working on some new recipes that I was planning to use for promotional purposes, but if you’d like to use them in your kitchens, I think we could work something out.”
She shook her head. “I don’t know. We provide very traditional fare.”
“I understand. Not all the recipes would work, but I think others could be modified so they would fit in with what your restaurants offer.” He turned to her. “Would you be willing to give it a try?”
This would be the first thing they agreed on. She rolled the idea around in her mind. Besides the fresh paint, new decor and all new linens, perhaps the menu could use a bit of a facelift.
But she wasn’t ready to let Franco see just how much the idea appealed to her. “I’ll consider it, but I’d like to sample what you have in mind before I allow our kitchens to start working together.”
He smiled and nodded. “I expected nothing less.”
“Instead of just plain, solitary spices, what if we make some blends specifically for the restaurants?”
He nodded. “I like the idea.”
She struggled not to show the surprise about him freely admitting that he liked her idea. Maybe this partnership didn’t have to be so constrained. Maybe it would be all right to let her guard down a little with him.
The thought brought a smile to her lips. She had a feeling they could do great things together. And in the end, it would benefit both of them—um, their businesses, of course.
“With all the work we’ve already done independently, we’re really ahead of the game,” she said as her gaze scrolled down over her checklist.
“I agree,” Franco said. “That’s why I’d like to propose we roll out this promotion in stages.”
“Stages?”
He nodded. “I know we have six months in which to make this plan a reality, but wouldn’t it be more impressive to reveal our plans ahead of time and grow the anticipation?”
Carla leaned back in her chair while twirling a pen. What Franco was suggesting was so ambitious. They’d have to push themselves and their staff harder than they’d ever worked before. But was it possible?
“What exactly do you have in mind?”
Franco reached into a black leather-bound binder and pulled out a stapled set of papers. He placed them in front of her. “I propose we launch this venture in six weeks’ time—”
“Six weeks?” She shook her head. “I’ll never get everything done in time. I’m giving all our original restaurants a facelift. This timeline isn’t possible in that short amount of time.”
“Okay. But
what if you were to complete one facelift—say, the flagship restaurant? Would that be doable?”
She gave it some thought. “I think so.”
“Good. We can send in some photographers to document the facelift. It can be used in the campaign. Maybe something like...‘we’re spicing things up with Marchello Spices and a new look, but we’re keeping the same dishes you’ve come to love generation after generation.’”
Carla grabbed her pen and immediately began writing.
“What are you doing?”
“Writing it down before I forget. It’s really good. Maybe you’re in the wrong line of work. If you ever want a second career, you might want to consider advertising.”
Franco let out a deep laugh. He was so handsome normally, but when the worry lines smoothed, he was the dreamiest. And he was so close—close enough to lean over and kiss.
His phone rang and he answered it before she could put her thoughts into action. She told herself that it was for the best—but it didn’t feel like it.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
THEIR PLAN WAS coming together.
Two weeks into their venture, and the basic structure of their PR campaign was in place. Part of Carla was exhilarated that her first major endeavor as the CEO of Falco Fresco Ristorantes was moving along so smoothly. But the other part of her knew that the sooner this deal came to its conclusion, the sooner Franco would disappear from her life.
The truth was she’d enjoyed this time with Franco. He brought out her creative side. He coaxed her to think outside the box...in more than one way.
Their lives had taken on a certain routine. Monday had become their day for collaboration, and the rest of the week they split up to work with their own staffs. When the weekend rolled around, she spent Saturday with her father, who refused to speak of her husband. Carla was all right with avoiding the subject of Franco, as her feelings for him were too confusing to explain.
But when Sunday came, they were expected at Franco’s grandparents for dinner. At first, it had been awkward with Franco not putting off the wedding until they’d been back in the country. Franco insisted that he just couldn’t wait another day to make her his wife.
He was so charismatic that she almost believed him. His grandmother grudgingly forgave him while his grandfather didn’t give any hint of his feelings toward their marriage.
With the circumstances of their marriage sorted, his grandmother welcomed Carla with open arms. His grandfather, on the other hand, wasn’t as friendly, but he at least acknowledged her presence, which was more than her father was willing to do for Franco. With each passing week, she’d grown more comfortable attending Sunday dinner—almost as though she belonged there.
However, this sunny Monday morning, she glanced across the desk anticipating Franco’s reaction as he examined the mockup of their new menu. It had a colorful center insert introducing the new Marchello Spices. Her gaze took in his dark eyes to his smooth cheeks and strong jaw. And then there was his mouth. Oh, the delicious things he could do with it.
The longer her gaze lingered on him, the faster her heart beat. She should be focusing on these important decisions, but she found herself utterly distracted. What would it be like if they were a real couple?
Would Franco still be so willing to help her with the business? Or would he be angry that she was more focused on things at the office instead of spending time at home with him? Would he understand her devotion to her father and her need to do whatever it took to care for him?
She’d like to think that Franco would be understanding about all of it. After all, he was a workaholic just like her. And if he understood her career drive, then would he understand her other needs—needs that had nothing to do with spreadsheets and profit margins. Would he be more than willing to satisfy them?
It wasn’t like they didn’t have chemistry—they had that in spades. In fact, their problem was keeping all those sparks from erupting into a flame—
“Carla?” Franco’s voice drew her from her fantasy.
“Um, what?”
“I said this looks really good.”
“Really? You like it?” She’d been unsure if she’d chosen the right color combinations.
“Yes, I do. You did great.” He smiled at her, making her heart flutter. “We make a great team.”
Carla stood and moved to his side of the desk. “Yes, we do. Just sign here.” She pointed to the form that required both of their signatures. “And then we can get these off to the printers.”
When she offered him a pen, their fingers touched. Every cell in her body tingled. Her gaze caught and held his a moment longer than necessary. Her heart tumbled in her chest.
In that moment, she had to wonder why she’d insisted on a platonic relationship. He took the pen and scrolled his name on the appropriate line. And then he turned to her, but she was standing a little too close and his shoulder brushed against her. She should step back, but her feet refused to comply.
“Shall we celebrate?” Her voice came out in a breathy tone.
Desire flared in his eyes. “What did you have in mind? Maybe an early dinner?”
“No. I don’t want to wait that long.”
He reached out, gripping her waist. “I like the way you think.”
His mouth pressed to hers, making time stand still. And yet her heart beat wildly. It didn’t matter how many times he kissed her, it always had the same intoxicating effects as the first one.
As he drew her to him, she willingly followed his lead. Her arms wrapped around his neck, allowing her fingertips to comb through his thick, dark hair. As she gave herself over to the moment, a moan of pleasure swelled in the back of her throat.
She was kissing her husband. Those last two words played over and over in her mind. It was so strange to know they had a piece of paper that said this display of affection was all right and encouraged. Not that she needed any encouragement.
She took over the lead and intensified the kiss. It was impossible for her to get enough of him. She pushed him back against the edge of the desk, ignoring the sound of pens and papers falling to the floor. Reality had no room in this moment. Her fingers moved to his tie, pulling it loose so she could get to the shirt buttons beneath—
“What is going on here?” The boom of her father’s disapproving voice immediately chilled her blood.
She jumped back. Her heart stilled as she groaned inwardly. She couldn’t believe she’d been caught making out with her husband by her father, of all people. Where was her assistant? Why hadn’t Rosa headed him off? She knew Carla didn’t like to be surprised by her father.
Carla smoothed her hands down over her clothes, making sure nothing was out of place. And then, with heat warming her whole face, she turned to him. It didn’t seem to matter how old she got, her father had that effect over her. Why was she acting like she was a teenager again, getting caught making out on the couch with her boyfriend?
She swallowed hard. “Papa, what are you doing here?”
His gray brows furrowed together. “This is a business office. I didn’t think I had to explain my presence. So am I to presume this so-called marriage is real?”
Carla chanced a glance at Franco. She sent him an apologetic look as he straightened his tie. She’d never meant for this to happen. Of all the times for them to lose their focus on work and let the passion between them flare up and consume them.
With his tie straightened, Franco draped an arm around Carla’s waist and drew her near. “Yes, it’s a real marriage.”
Franco’s unwavering stare met her father’s. It appeared there was to be a battle of wills. Oh no! This is not good, not good at all.
Carla pulled away from Franco’s hold. She stepped closer to her father. “Papa, what did you need?”
Her father’s gaze turned to her. “He’s lying to you and you don’t even know it.”
“Lying? Lying about what?”
“Everything. This marriage. This business deal. When it’s all over—when he gets what he wants—he’ll leave you with nothing but a broken heart. He’s a liar just like his grandfather—”
“That’s not true.” Franco’s restrained voice held a thread of anger. “If anyone here is a liar, it’s you.”
Her father’s gaze narrowed as his face filled with color. “I don’t know what your grandfather told you—”
“He didn’t have to tell me anything. There’s proof. I know for a fact that you cheated.”
“Is that what you’ve been telling my daughter?” Her father stepped toward Franco.
“Stop!” Carla stepped between the two men. There was absolutely no way she was going to let them come to blows.
And quite frankly she wasn’t even sure what they were fighting over. It seemed that both men knew something she didn’t, and she was so tired of being left out of things. Her mother had done it with her illness. Her father did it with the business. And now Franco had done it with the secret he knew about her father.
Her father continued to glare at Franco. “Then tell your husband to take back his empty accusation—”
“It isn’t empty,” Franco ground out. “I can prove it.”
For the briefest second, surprise lit up her father’s eyes. But in a blink, it was gone. It didn’t matter. Carla had seen it, and she wondered about this proof.
She stepped up to her father. “Tell me it isn’t true. Tell me I haven’t been falsely defending you all this time.” When her father didn’t immediately respond, she said, “Papa, say something.”
Her father stepped around her and approached Franco. “I’m telling you that if you hurt my daughter, you’ll have to deal directly with me.” And then her father turned to her. “And when you’re in my office, I expect you to act like a respectable businesswoman.”
He didn’t say another word as he strode out of the office, leaving her speechless. She felt as though the ground beneath her feet had shifted.
Harlequin Romance September 2021 Box Set Page 24
