was still alive he would have networked and found someone to tide him over by now. He would have had that margin call solved with a quick call to one of his well-connected mates. That was the way he had worked. He had lived on the adrenalin rush of life while she… Well, that was the problem.
She couldn’t cope.
She liked to know what was going to happen and when it was going to happen. She hated the cut and thrust of business, the endless going-nowhere meetings, the tedious networking at corporate functions—not to mention the reams of pointless paperwork. And most of all she hated the rows and rows of numbers that seemed more of a blur to her than anything else.
Gabby liked to… Well, there was no point in thinking about what she liked to do, because it just wasn’t going to happen. Her dreams had had to be shelved and would remain shelved—at least until her father could take up the reins again… If he took up the reins again, she thought, with another deep quiver of panic.
Gabby had been the last person to speak to her brother; the last person to see him alive before he ended his life with a drug overdose. Because of that she had responsibilities to face. And face them she would. Even if they were totally repugnant to her. Being forced to marry a man like Vinn Venadicci was right up there on the repugnant scale. Or maybe repugnant wasn’t quite the right word, she grudgingly conceded. Vinn was hardly what any woman would describe as physically off-putting. He was downright gorgeous, when it came down to it. That long, leanly muscled frame, that silky black hair, those sensually sculptured lips and those mesmerising eyes were enough to send any woman’s heart aflutter—and Gabby’s was doing a whole lot more than fluttering right now at the thought of being formally tied to him.
Entering into a marriage contract with Vinn was asking for trouble—but what else could she do? Who was going to lend her that amount of money in less than twenty-four hours?
Gabby gulped as she glanced at him again. Could she do it? Could she agree to marry him even though it was madness?
Actually, it was dangerous… Yes, that was the word she had been looking for. Vinn was dangerous. He was arrogant, he was a playboy, and—even more disturbing—he had a chip on his shoulder where she was concerned.
But she had nowhere else to turn—no other solution to fix this within the narrow timeframe. It was up to her to save her family’s business, even if it meant agreeing to his preposterous conditions.
‘All right,’ Gabby said on a whooshing breath of resignation. ‘I’ll do it.’
‘Fine,’ Vinn said, in a tone that suggested he had never had any doubt of her accepting, which somehow made it all the more galling. ‘The money will be deposited within the next few minutes. I will pick you up this evening for dinner, so we can go through the wedding arrangements.’
Gabby felt herself quake with alarm. ‘Couldn’t we just wait a few days until I have time to—?’
His cynical laugh cut her off. ‘Until you have time to think of a way out, eh, Gabriella? I don’t think so, cara. Now I have you I am not going to let you escape.’
‘What am I supposed to say to my parents?’ she asked, scowling at him even as her stomach did another nosedive of dread.
He smiled. ‘Why not tell them you’ve finally come to your senses and agreed to marry me?’
She gave him another glare that would have stripped three decades of paint off a wall. ‘They will think I have taken leave of my senses.’
‘Or they will think you have fallen head over heels in love,’ he said. ‘Which is exactly what I would prefer them to believe at this point in time. Your father’s health is unstable and will be for some weeks after the surgery, I imagine. I wouldn’t want him to suffer a relapse out of concern for you or for his business.’
Gabby couldn’t argue with that, but she resented him using it as a lever to get her to fall meekly in with his plans. ‘I was planning on going to the hospital this evening,’ she said tightly. ‘Will I meet you there or at the house?’
‘I have a couple of meetings that might string out, so if I don’t make it to the hospital I will meet you at the house around eight-thirty,’ he said. ‘I would like to speak to your father at some point about my intentions.’
Gabby couldn’t stop her top lip from curling. ‘Somehow you don’t strike me as the traditional type, asking a girl’s father for her hand in marriage. In fact I didn’t think you were the marrying type at all. All we ever read about you in the press is how you move from one relationship to another within a matter of weeks.’
He gave her another unreadable smile. ‘Variety, as they say, is the spice of life,’ he said. ‘But even the most restless man eventually feels the need to put down some roots.’
She eyed him warily. ‘This marriage between us…it’s not for the long term…is it?’
‘Only for as long as it achieves its aim,’ he said— which Gabby realised hadn’t really answered her question.
Vinn moved past her to hold the door open for her. ‘I will see you tonight,’ he said. ‘I’ll call you if I am going to be late.’
She brushed past him, her head at a proud angle. The subtle notes of her perfume danced around his face, making his nostrils flare involuntarily. She smelt of orange blossom. Or was it honeysuckle? He couldn’t quite tell. Maybe it was both. That was the thing about Gabriella—she was a combination of so many things, any one of them alone was enough to send his senses spinning. But all of them put together? Well, that was half his problem, wasn’t it?
The door clicked shut behind her and Vinn released the breath he’d unconsciously been holding. ‘Damn,’ he said, raking a hand through his hair. ‘God damn it to hell.’
‘Mr Venadicci?’ His receptionist’s cool, crisp voice sounded over the intercom. ‘Mr Winchester is here now. Shall I send him in?’
Vinn pulled in an uneven breath and released it just as raggedly. ‘Yeah…’ he said, dropping his hand by his side. ‘I’ll see him. But tell him I’ve only got five minutes.’
CHAPTER TWO
GABBY put on her bravest face while she visited her father’s bedside. The tubes and heart monitor leads attached to his grey-tinged body made her stomach churn with anguish—the very same anguish she could see played out on her mother’s face.
‘How are you, Dad?’ she whispered softly as she bent down to kiss his cheek.
‘Still alive and kicking,’ he said, and even managed a lopsided grin, but Gabby could see the worry and fear in his whisky-coloured eyes.
‘Have the doctors told you anything more?’ she asked, addressing both her mother and father.
‘The surgery is being brought forward to tomorrow,’ Pamela St Clair answered. ‘Vinn spoke to the cardiac surgeon and organised it when he was here earlier. He insisted your father’s case be made a priority. You just missed him, actually. It’s a wonder you didn’t pass him in the corridor.’
Gabby stiffened. ‘Vinn was here just now?’
‘Yes, dear,’ her mother said. ‘He’s been here every day. But you know that.’
‘Yes…
