one competitor. If that were not bad enough, it was clear that while the other company would maintain their business identity, Valerio Shipping would cease to exist.
He tossed the report onto the gleaming surface of the walnut desk. “You are not trying to buy Hope a husband, you are trying to blackmail one.”
Reynolds shrugged broad shoulders, not even slightly stooped by his more than seventy years. “Call it what you like, but if you want to keep Valerio Shipping in the di Valerio family and operating business under the Valerio name, you will marry my granddaughter.”
“What is the matter with her that you have to resort to such tactics to get her a husband?”
For the first time since Luciano had entered the other man’s office, Reynolds’ guard dropped enough to let his reaction show. Luciano’s question had surprised him.
It was in the widening of his eyes, the beetling of his steel gray brows. “There’s nothing wrong with her. She’s a little shy and a bleeding heart, I admit, but for all that she’ll make a fine wife.”
“To a husband you have to blackmail into marriage?”
In many ways, he was a traditional Sicilian male, but Joshua Reynolds made Luciano look like a modern New Man. Hope’s grandfather was more than old-fashioned in his views. He was prehistoric.
“Don’t tell me, you were waiting for love eternal to get married, man?” Derision laced Reynolds’ voice. “You’re thirty, not some young pup still dreaming of fairy tales and fantasies. And you’re plenty old enough to be thinking about a wife and family. Your own father is gone, so cannot advise you, but I’m here to tell you, you don’t want to leave it too late to enjoy the benefits of family life.”
Not only did Luciano find the very idea of taking advice from a man trying to blackmail him offensive, but Joshua Reynolds was the last person to hand out platitudes about enjoying family life. He’d spent his seventy plus years almost completely oblivious to his own family.
“I’m offering you a straightforward business deal. Take it or leave it.” The tone of Reynolds’ voice left no doubt how seriously he felt about following through on his threats.
“And if I leave it my family company ceases to exist.”
The other man looked unconcerned by the reminder. “No company lasts forever.”
Gritting his teeth, Luciano forced himself not to take the other man by the throat and shake him. He never lost control and he would not give his adversary the benefit of doing so now.
“I will have to think about it.”
“You do that and think about this while you are at it. My granddaughter left two weeks ago for a tour of Europe in the company of four other girls, a tour guide and five young men. Her last letter mentioned one of them several times. David something or other. Apparently, they are developing quite the friendship. If you want Hope to come to the marriage bed untouched, you’d better do something about it soon.”
Hope peered through the viewer of her state-of-the-art digital camera that had been a parting gift from her grandfather before her trip. She knelt down on one knee, seeking the perfect shot of the Parthenon in the distance. The waning evening light cast the ancient structure in purplish shadows she had been determined to catch on disc.
It was a fantastic sight.
“It’s going to be dark before you get the shot, Hope. Come on, honey, take your picture already.” David’s Texas drawl intruded on her concentration, making her lose the shot she’d been about to snap and it was all she could do not to ask him to take himself off.
He’d been so nice to her over the past three weeks, offering her friendship and a male escort when circumstances required it. She’d been surprised how at ease she’d felt with the group right off, but a lifetime of shyness did not dissipate overnight. Feeling comfortable had not instantly translated into her making overtures of friendship. David had approached her, his extroverted confidence and easy smile drawing her out of her shell.
Because of that, she forced back a pithy reply, despite her surge of unaccustomed impatience. “I’ll just be a second. Why don’t you wait for me back at the bus?”
“I can’t leave my best girl all by herself. Just hurry it up, honey.”
She adjusted the focus of her camera and snapped off a series of shots, then stood. Interruptions and all, she thought the pictures were going to turn out pretty well and she smiled with satisfaction.
Turning to David, she let that smile include him. “There. All done.” She closed the shutter before sliding her camera into its slim black case and then she tucked that into her oversize shoulder bag.
“Okay, we can return to the bus now.” She couldn’t keep the regret from sliding into her voice. She didn’t want to leave.
David shook his head. “We’re not scheduled to go back to the hotel for another twenty minutes.”
“Then why were you rushing me?” she demanded with some exasperation.
His even white teeth slashed in an engaging grin. “I wanted your attention.”
She eyed the blond Texan giant askance. In some ways he reminded her of a little boy, mostly kind but with the self-centeredness of youth. “Why?”
“I thought we could go for a walk.” He put his hand out for her to take, clearly assuming her acquiescence to his plan.
After only a slight hesitation, she took it and let him lead her away from the others. A walk was a good idea. It was their last day in Athens and she wanted this final opportunity to soak in the ambience of the Parthenon.
David’s grip on her hand was a little tight and she wiggled her fingers until he relaxed his. She was unused to physical affection in any sense and it had taken her a while to grow accustomed to David’s casual touching. In some ways, she still wasn’t. It helped knowing that he wasn’t being overly familiar, just a typical Texas male—right down to his calling her honey as often as he used her name.
She stopped and stared in awe at a particularly entrancing view of the ancient structure. “It’s so amazing.”
David smiled down at her. “Seeing it through your eyes is more fun than experiencing it myself. You’re a sweet little thing, Hope.”
She laughed. “What does that make you, a sweet big thing?”
“Men aren’t sweet. Didn’t your daddy teach you anything?”
She shrugged, not wanting to admit she couldn’t even remember her father. She only knew what he looked like because of the pictures of her parents’ wedding her grandfather had on display in the drawing room. The framed photos showed two smiling people whom she had had trouble identifying with as her own flesh and blood.
“I stand corrected,” she said. “I won’t call you sweet ever again, but am I allowed to think it?”
The easy banter continued and they were both laughing when they returned to the tour bus fifteen minutes later, their clasped hands swinging between them.
“Hope!”
She
