She was glad, she told herself. She already had a headache from the music that was getting progressively louder.
Going out for dinner with a man like Alex Valente would not be prudent, she knew. She already had enough disasters to deal with—she wouldn’t add possible heartache to the list.
Chapter Two
The next day Olivia was in her office when a courier delivered a letter for her marked Personal.
There was just something about that strong handwriting that put her on alert. She gazed down at the white envelope in her hand, noting the way her name had been written in bold strokes. Her heart skipped a beat. Was she being silly to think this was from Alex Valente?
It was.
It read, Dinner tonight. Seven-thirty. Sylvester’s Restaurant.
She stared at the note, her blood pressure beginning to rise. The sheer arrogance of the man! He sure didn’t take no for an answer.
Heavens, just the thought of spending an evening with Alex Valente was enough to give her a serious case of goose bumps. She couldn’t deny she was deeply attracted to him. There was a strength about him that appealed to her.
Of course that was probably because the men in her life had always been weak in some way or other. Her parents had divorced when she was two, and her father had ignored her for most of her life. Her successive two stepfathers had both been kind but self-centered. And her ex-husband had only been interested in himself. They hadn’t been good examples of the male species.
So why did she think Alex Valente was?
By six that evening she knew she would meet him. She had too much to worry about these days and wondering what Alex wanted from her did not need to be added to her list.
At least the restaurant was neutral ground, she told herself, showering then dressing in one of her own classic designs. The cream-colored pantsuit flattered her tall slim figure. Matching leather pumps completed a sophisticated but businesslike effect.
She might as well have worn nothing, she mused an hour later. Alex had watched her entrance into the restaurant with a masculine appreciation that sent a tingle of anticipation along her spine.
“Glad you could make it,” he said, his voice low and throaty as she reached the corner table.
“I’m not,” she said, then quickly cleared the huskiness from her throat.
A knowing look entered his eyes. “So why did you come?”
She angled her chin at him. “To tell you that I found your note arrogant and to make it clear I want nothing to do with you.”
“You could have just phoned and said the same thing.”
“But would you have given up?”
He arched a brow. “Do I look like a man who gives up?”
“No.”
“Then you have your answer.” He held out her chair for her. “Let’s eat first.”
She swallowed. First? She didn’t much feel like eating, but the waiter was hovering, so she went through the motions and ordered a glass of mineral water, then glanced at the menu and ordered veal.
“You’ve obviously done some checking to find me,” she said, once they were alone.
“I needed to get the note to you,” he dismissed, as if checking up on people was what he did every day.
Well, she’d done some checking herself this afternoon, but she wasn’t about to tell him that. She’d heard of the House of Valente—who hadn’t? But until now she’d never been interested in reading the odd gossip column about the love exploits of the three Valente brothers.
“Alex, I—”
“I love your name,” he cut across her, his voice suddenly deepening to a murmur. “Olivia.”
Her heart fluttered at the sound of her name on his lips. He made it sound so sexy…so downright delicious…so…
All at once she realized what he was doing and her mouth tightened. He obviously liked to interrupt her with a personal comment just to throw her off-balance.
“I was named after Larry,” she told him, hiding a smirk.
His brow arched. “Larry?”
“Sir Laurence Olivier. You know, the actor.”
His hard, sensual mouth visibly relaxed. “Oh. I know who he is. Or was.”
She emphasized a sigh. “Alas, he died before I was born, but he was like a favorite uncle to my mother.”
Alex’s eyes held amusement. “I can see you’re trying to put me in my place.”
An odd exhilaration filled her. “Did it work?”
“No. But then, I have friends in high places, too. And they’re all still alive.” One corner of his mouth twisted upward. “I’d say you’ve tried that little trick before.”
“Not since I was a teenager. I’ve grown up since then.”
“And very nicely, too,” he drawled.
While the waiter was placing their drinks on the table, Olivia couldn’t help but take a proper look at Alex from beneath her lashes. Lord. The man was handsome to a fault, his dark looks a lethal combination of virility and commanding self-confidence, the superbly tailored suit he wore merely an excuse to take a second look at him.
Then she noticed he’d seen her assessing him. Her cheeks warmed as her heart tried to settle. She was grateful when he started to discuss less personal things and Olivia felt herself relax as the conversation stayed on general topics.
“Are you close to your mother, Olivia?” he said, just after the waiter took away their empty plates.
Uneasiness sliced through her. “Why do you ask?”
“You were raised by your grandmother here in Australia, weren’t you? Your mother lived in Los Angeles.” He made it sound as if her mother had deserted her.
“It wasn’t like that,” she said, defensively. “My mother’s work was in Los Angeles. She thought I’d have a better upbringing with my grandmother and I did. Nanna and I loved each other.” Her heart squeezed at the thought of her grandmother’s passing seven years ago.
All at once she realized she was justifying her family. “Look, why did you invite me here, Alex?”
“Because you need me.”
She almost choked. “Excuse me?”
He sent her a mocking look. “Let me put it another way. You need my money.”
She suddenly felt a chill. Could he know about her mother’s debts? It had to be the best-kept secret
