“Is that the only reason why you turned Bella down when she attempted to hire you two weeks ago?” he asked.
Her too-pale lips parted. “You can’t be thinking that I knew she was your sister, because I swear that isn’t the case. And even if I had known, my assistant handles all the initial calls. The moment he discovered the wedding was to take place in Italy, he would have politely declined and wished her well.”
Which, according to Bella, is exactly what had happened. “So what will it be? Your agreement to plan Bella’s wedding for title to your company or do we part company now?”
She bit her lip and frowned, then huffed out a breath and nodded as if coming to grips with her decision. “I’ll do it. I’ll have Henry send a contract to your solicitor by the weekend and we can go from there.”
“That’s too late. The wedding is two weeks from now.”
“That’s not nearly enough time,” she sputtered. “Two months is not sufficient to orchestrate such a lavish affair.”
“If we wait two months it will be clear why the bride is marrying so quickly. Understand?”
Her cheeks flushed a charming pink but she gave a jerky nod. “Yes. Well. That doesn’t leave us much time.”
“No,” he said. “I had my attorney draft a contract for your review. Once you sign we can be off.”
She stiffened up again. “We?”
“I’m in a time crunch and must return to Italy tonight. You’ll come with me and oversee the details there.”
“I can’t,” she said in a strained voice he’d never heard before, that touched something kindred in him. “My business and assistants are here.”
“There is nothing that can’t be done via the internet or phone,” he said. “You’ll have the best of both at your disposal.”
She cupped her palms to her face, her slender shoulders trembling once. Twice.
That tremor had him fisting his hands to keep from reaching out to her, enfolding her slender form against his length. And that would be a mistake for then she would know how much she’d affected him.
Dammit, he wasn’t going to let her get to him.
“Your answer, Delanie,” he said. “Do you come with me? Or is the deal off?”
She pressed her lips together, throat working. “After all that has happened between us, do you honestly expect me to trust you and drop everything?”
“Yes, because I am entrusting you to organize the most important day in my sister’s life.”
She looked away, stilled, then she bobbed her head and he hoped to hell that meant she understood, that she would cease fighting him.
“I prefer my own contract,” she said.
“As do I.”
Her chin came up again and her gaze clashed with his. Only the tremor in her lower lip belied her total control.
“My contract is designed for my purposes but you are entitled to make minor changes to it if you like,” she said.
He most certainly would do that. Ever since the disaster of dealing with David Tate, Marco had learned to manage his own affairs to the letter.
But this concession was doable. Perhaps even wise, for he would know what she expected and would be able to mount a countermove if necessary.
This time he held control and he would have Delanie close at hand again. And why the hell was he entertaining any thought of being close to her again?
His gaze raked over her, his brow furrowing. The black dress she wore encased the petite figure he remembered with aching clarity. She appeared gaunt and fragile. A deception, he was certain.
Marco paced to the heavily draped window and swore, painfully aware of what was at the heart of it. She’d intrigued him from the start. She still did.
But that didn’t matter now. It was all in the past, and it would stay there. He had control over that part of him now.
Having her in Italy would prove that. By the time his sister was a happily married woman, Marco would have no doubt in his mind that walking away from Delanie had been the right choice ten years ago. He could finally purge her from his system.
“Fine. Give me your contract and I’ll read it on the plane,” he said, the decision easy as it suited both their purposes. “Now let’s leave.”
Delanie bit her lower lip again. No was the easy answer.
But he was holding out her dream on a silver salver. He also held her employees’, really her only friends, future in his hands. She couldn’t refuse.
And if she was honest with herself, a part of her didn’t want to walk away. She could easily blame that lonely part of her heart that still held Marco Vincienta close, the part of her that wondered why he’d found her so lacking. That deep-in-the-night dream that his desertion had all been a horrid mistake and that they truly were meant for each other.
She was a fool for entertaining such fanciful thoughts, even for a moment, but she’d always been a fool for love where Marco was concerned. At least by taking this job she would be opening doors for herself in the future. That was her dream. That was what she would focus on instead of the tall handsome Italian whose touch made her bones melt.
“Okay,” she said. “It won’t take me more than an hour to pack.”
He broke eye contact the moment her agreement was out, snapping a strong wrist up to consult a watch that looked masculine and expensive. “We leave now. I will buy you whatever you need once we get to Italy.”
And that was the end of that argument, concluded before she could get her anger up. She made a quick stop at her minuscule office to collect the passport she’d needed for her dealings with Henry, her laptop, a contract and the jeans, jersey and comfortable sandals she’d left at work in case she decided to begin cleaning out her father’s office today.
With the lot of it crammed into a small carryall along with the few toiletries she kept on hand there, she let Marco escort her from the building, barely having the time to thank Henry before she was ushered into a gleaming black sedan.
She pressed a hand to her stomach, the drive through London a blur while Marco sprawled beside her and talked on his mobile, speaking a language she barely recognized as Italian. Not that it would have mattered if she spoke it fluently. Each time the car zoomed around a corner, the steely length of his leg brushed hers and her mind simply shut off as another emotion exploded in her, one that had lain dormant for ten years.
But even if they hadn’t touched, his presence simply commanded every inch of space. Commanded every second of her attention, leaving her all too aware of him as a powerful man.
Ruthless. Driven. She could see the end effect of what she’d glimpsed in him years ago.
Knowing she was powerless in
