The Italian's Virgin Bride

Pearl’s Place was her secret, something she’d done because even though she’d never been able to help her own mother, other women would have a place to go, a place to flee. She’d bought the property with her own money and most of her own personal allowance went direct to the refuge, but without control of Clemengers there was no doubt what small funding it required would be one of the first sacrifices of the new merger. If she could retain fifty-one per cent of the business, however, her secret would be safe and funding would be ensured.

It was a far better scenario than if McQuade’s offer succeeded. Then there would barely be enough to satisfy the demands of the taxation department and the banks. She’d be able to make some sort of contribution out of any remaining share of her own, but after that Pearl’s Place would be on its own. She wouldn’t let that happen.

He shook his head. ‘No. This is not complete ownership. It is not even control of the business you are offering. It is a junior partner you want, but for the greatest investment. No one would accept a deal that one-sided, least of all a Silvagni.’ His hand slammed down on the table so hard she flinched.

‘There is no way I would ever accept less than fifty per cent on principle, especially where I have just paid over the odds for one hundred per cent. But if you really think your management skills are worth something, I will ensure you receive a suitable remuneration package. It will be worth your while continuing.’

‘That’s all you can offer? After I have brought you this opportunity? Don’t you see that you wouldn’t even have had this chance if it weren’t for this huge tax liability hanging over our heads?’

‘That, as they say in the classics,’ he said, with a look of complete satisfaction, ‘is not my problem.’

‘But you would have missed out on this opportunity entirely without my intervention. Your finance department hadn’t even considered Clemengers’ sale as worthy of your notice. Surely, if the deal is worth something, you should be prepared to acknowledge that fact.’

‘And surely you realised that once the business was sold, you would lose control completely.’

‘Yes, but that was before I spoke with you. I thought you understood this business, could see the benefits of a joint operation.’

‘You forget, first and foremost, I am a businessman. I am not running a charitable institution.’

‘I am not looking for charity!’

‘Then why do you expect something from me that you have not asked from the other bidders?’

She couldn’t tell him. Not the real reason. ‘I just thought you were more attuned to the business, that you might understand. I now see I was wrong to expect you to look at it my way.’

‘So my offer still stands. A higher bid than McQuade, you end up with an appropriate remuneration package, and Clemengers is saved from the bulldozers.’

She was silent for a few seconds and Domenic wondered what was going through her mind. Her eyes swirled with colour and he could practically see the machinations going on behind them. She couldn’t be serious. Any normal person would be satisfied with saving her precious hotels from destruction. Well, she’d made her stand and he hoped she understood his. There was no way he’d accept anything less than one hundred per cent ownership. No way.

‘I’ll have to think about it,’ she said at last, rising from the table as if he’d been dismissed.

He looked up sharply without saying a word. He didn’t have to say a word—she should be able to tell he was furious. He’d just wasted hours and all for nothing. No one had ever turned down a deal like the one he was offering. No one would. No one in their right mind, that was.

He had to hand it to her. Here she was with a solid offer to save her business, by far the best offer she had on the table and the best offer she was going to get in the twenty-four hours she had left, and she wanted to think about it, as if the ball was in her court.

She was not like the people he usually dealt with; people who exchanged properties and investments and millions of dollars with hardly a blink, who knew when to take a good deal and when to break one. Who knew when they were asking too much.

Opal Clemenger didn’t fit that mould. Opal Clemenger came with her own. He let his eyes wander over her woven-silk-clad figure, the rise and fall of her chest betrayed by the play of light over the textured fabric, the swell of her hips accentuated by the nipped-in waist of her jacket, and felt his eyebrows rise in appreciation as his anger turned into an entirely different emotion.

It was some mould. Even through the expensive fabric, he could just about picture the skinscape underneath—the firm, silky breasts and the subtle hollows he’d find below her ribcage, the bare swell of her tummy and the dip to the rise of her hip bones, and then down, beyond…

What would she be like in bed? How would it feel to have those long legs wrapped around him, her breasts peaked and firm and her eyes flickering green and blue when she lost control?

He would pay dearly to find out. It was some time since he’d had a woman, and something told him Opal Clemenger would be all woman. No one could be as passionate as she was about saving her hotels, and yet be cold and lifeless in bed. That kind of passion didn’t just come with a cause. It came with character. It came from within.

No, Opal was as polished and refined as the gem whose name she bore, and just as he’d seen it in the precious stone he’d seen the fire and the flame that lurked within her, below the surface, the sparks that erupted when provoked.

And she was interesting to provoke. It was interesting to try and work out what made her tick. She needed his money, but still she treated him almost as if he was the enemy. Peculiar. Most women were too happy to agree with him and pander to his every need, yet she seemed happier when they were disagreeing.

It would be no easy task orchestrating her into his bed.

And he wanted her there. Wanted her lush curves bucking beneath him. Begging for more. Wild. Unrestrained. Insatiable.

And he would have her.

Maybe there was a way, a way that could satisfy them both.

She was looking at him strangely, as if she was expecting something, and he smiled to himself, knowing there was no way she’d be expecting him to make a complete turn-around. Why would she, when it was a surprise to even himself?

‘Maybe there’s a way we can work this out,’ he said at last.

She looked confused and tugged nervously at the hem of her Chanel jacket as he continued to sit. ‘I don’t see how, if you’re not prepared to accept less than one hundred per cent control.’

‘Maybe there’s a chance I will accept your conditions then,’ he said.

‘You will?’ She sat down again.

‘But only on one proviso,’ he added.

He followed the bump in her neck as it moved, the gentle rise and fall of her throat, as she swallowed back her nervousness.

‘And that proviso is…?’

‘It’s quite simple,’ he started, ‘and no doubt something we can both benefit from. You’ll get the white knight you need to bail out your business and I’ll get an interest in a six-star hotel chain that has much to offer.’

She looked lost for a while, her features searching for the answer. ‘But…how is this different from the offer I made you before?’

‘Quite simply, I will pay what you require and accept a forty-nine per cent share of the business. Something, I must point out, a Silvagni has never done. You only have to agree to do one thing.’

‘And…and what would that be?’

He looked her squarely in the eyes. ‘Marry me, Opal Clemenger. I will invest in your hotel chain, on your terms, if you will agree to become my wife.’

CHAPTER FOUR

‘YOUR wife! You have to be kidding. Why the hell would I want to agree to that?’ Opal noticed the turned heads, remembered where she was and sucked in a deep breath. ‘I think it might be a sensible idea to conclude this matter in my office.’

In truth it was an attempt to gain breathing space. As soon as she had him in the office she was telling him where to well and truly get off. It would not be a prolonged conversation.

He followed her, too close, unnecessarily close, so that his expensive cologne taunted her, even though it was she who led the way to her modestly sized but well-appointed office.

Dammit—it wasn’t his cologne taunting her. It was him. He projected an aura of power and control that filled the small space of her office and made her wish she’d thought of somewhere roomier, maybe the boardroom, for this confrontation. There was nowhere here to get away from Domenic Silvagni, and right now she wanted to be as far away from him as she could get. But first, she had to put paid to his ridiculous suggestion.

Standing with her back to the wall, she crossed her arms, all too aware of the heart hammering away inside her chest. ‘My offer of a share in Clemengers,’ she said, with all the calmness she could muster, ‘is a serious one. I’d appreciate it if you treated it accordingly.’

He smiled from his position near the closed door, tilting his head to one side and sliding his hands casually into his pockets. Her eyes followed the movement, the fine shirt exposed, the perfect fit of his clothes all but screaming the firmness of the body beneath. She swallowed and dragged her eyes back to his face, where the smile slid away and his eyes took on a predatory gleam.

‘I’m perfectly serious. You agree to marry me and I’ll rescue your precious hotels. It’s quite simple.’

‘It’s quite ridiculous!’

‘And expecting me to come away from this deal with only a minor partner’s share is not?’ His hands flew from his pockets, sweeping through the air in a potent Mediterranean gesture as he moved closer to the desk between them. ‘Surely you didn’t expect me to agree to your demands so easily. Surely you would have expected me to have counter-demands.’

‘But marriage? You must have some ego if you think I would be falling over myself to agree to that!’

‘You would prefer, perhaps, to become my mistress?’

The shock must have been all too obvious on her face and he seemed to take a sadistic pleasure from it. ‘The idea is not without its attraction…’ He paused, studying her closely, his gaze searing a trail along the length of her, while he stroked his chin, as if seriously considering the idea. ‘But no, I think my parents would be happier if I was finally to put a ring on a woman’s finger.’

‘I will be neither your mistress nor your wife.’

‘You think marriage to me would be such an imposition?’ He moved closer, hands on hips, until less than a metre separated them. ‘You are a very beautiful woman. I see the fire in your eyes, even though you try to pretend it’s not there. I think we could be very good together.’

‘You seem to think, Signor Silvagni,’ she whispered in almost a snarl, determined not to let him intimidate her by his proximity, ‘I have some interest in you as a man. Let me put it to you straight, so there are no more misunderstandings. This is a business transaction, pure and simple. I’m not interested in your body—just your money.’

Eyebrows raised, he looked down at her, and lifted one hand, gently tracing the pad of his thumb across her lips. ‘Are you entirely sure about that?’

‘Oh, quite sure,’ she said, when the thumping in her heart had quietened enough for her to speak. ‘I never put sex before business.’

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