The Italian Proposal: His Virgin Acquisition / Her Little White Lie. Maisey Yates

did. She didn’t have the experience or the sophistication to treat it as a recreational activity. Combined with the fact that she simply didn’t have the time to devote to discovering her sexuality.

      “I can’t do that. I don’t…I don’t see sex as a convenience.” She took a breath, trying to conjure up that steely businesswoman she knew lived inside her somewhere. “What I mean is, I don’t sleep around.”

      Marco stared at her flushed face, her red lips, her eyes still dark from passion. She wanted him, even if she couldn’t admit it yet. Or perhaps she was holding out until she felt it was most advantageous for her to give in. “That’s fine. But the clause stays in. If you want sex, you get it from your husband.”

      She swallowed hard, trying to keep her face neutral. “I don’t think I’ll be wanting any in the near future.”

      He shrugged. “It’s up to you. I don’t have to coerce women into my bed.”

      That was the absolute truth. He couldn’t remember the last time a woman had turned him down—if there had ever been a time. He didn’t like it now. He liked it even less that his body seemed to have some sort of fixation on a woman who wasn’t fixated on him. It must be the novelty of it. It was unusual for him to have to pursue a woman. They came to him—frequently and easily. If he didn’t end up in bed with Elaine it would be easy enough to find someone else, seeing as there was nothing forbidding him from doing exactly that.

      But the idea of Elaine being with another man while she was wearing his ring had made him see red. He had told the truth when he’d said he didn’t share. And in his mind marriage, even one of convenience, made her his. Old-fashioned and unenlightened, yes, but there wasn’t anything he could do about it.

      “You have an appointment with a bridal gown designer tomorrow at nine.”

      “I have work,” she said sharply.

      “I don’t care. The wedding takes priority right now.”

      She put her hands on her hips. “Is this how it’s going to be, then? For the next twelve months you’re going to treat me like your personal doll?”

      Marco shrugged. He seemed entirely unaffected by the kiss, and with her heartbeat still going erratically it irritated her.

      “If that’s the way you want to look at it. Or you could simply view this as your newest job opportunity.”

      “You know, you have a real talent for making me sound like a call girl.”

      “And you have a real talent for wasting my time. If you want to see me, next time make an appointment.”

      She drew up to her full height, but was careful not to get too close to him again. Desire and anger were still struggling for pride of place inside her. “I am your fiancée.”

      “No. This is a business deal, as you’re so fond of pointing out, which makes you one of my business partners. Which means you make an appointment like they all do.”

      She leaned all her weight onto one leg, pushed out her hip and settled her hand on it, in her best indignant pose. “And do you kiss all of your business partners the same way you did me?”

      “If any of them looked like you, I might. As it is, I’ve never been tempted to try.”

      It was difficult to decide whether to embrace anger at his sheer male arrogance, or enjoy the sneaky glow of feminine pleasure she got from his underhanded compliment. In the end, it was the anger that won out. “I see. So you decided that because I’m a woman you can just kiss me whenever you like?”

      He moved toward her, his dark eyes blazing with fury and something more compelling. “No. I kissed you because I wanted to. And you wanted me to.”

      “Your ego is impressive.” She took a step back. “I didn’t want you to kiss me. As you mentioned, this is a business deal, and I never mix business with my personal life.” At least she was certain she wouldn’t if she had a personal life.

      The mockery in his smile told her he didn’t believe her for a moment. “I know that this is all an affront to your feminist sensibilities, but for the purposes of this deal I’m your boss. You will do as I say. You will sign the prenup, and you will meet with the wedding coordinator tomorrow morning to choose your wedding dress.”

      Everything in her raged out of control. Her hormones were still on red alert from the kiss, and her temper had just about reached its breaking point. She sucked in a calming breath. This was where years of training kicked in. Where she played the game. This was business. You fought the battles you could win, not the ones you were destined to lose.

      “And will you be attending this bridal gown extravaganza?”

      “Absolutely not. It’s bad luck for the groom to see the gown before the wedding.”

      “I would imagine that it’s bad luck for the marriage to have a predetermined end date,” she returned crisply.

      He acknowledged her comment with a slight smile, then turned, walked back to his desk and settled behind it. Apparently she was dismissed.

      She turned to go.

      “Elaine?”

      She stopped at the sound of that sweet, honey-coated voice saying her name, sending waves of sensation through her body. Well, wasn’t she one to dramatize?

      “I hope you don’t have plans tonight.”

      She turned and arched her eyebrow. “Would it matter if I did?”

      “Certainly. I would feel bad for asking you to break them.”

      “You most certainly would not.”

      The left corner of his mouth lifted into a half-smile. “You’re right. I wouldn’t at all. I have a dinner party that I’m expected to attend tonight and I need a date.”

      “Did you misplace your little black book?”

      He gave her a pained look. “I don’t have a black book.” He picked up his gleaming cellphone and waved it. “That would be old-fashioned.”

      She felt her lips thinning into an unattractive line. “You’re straight out of the Dark Ages. A BlackBerry isn’t going to fix that.”

      “Nice to know you hold me in such high regard, cara. Did you drive here?”

      She eyed him warily. “No. I took a cab.”

      “Perfect. You can ride with me.”

      “And if I have plans?”

      “Cancel them. As per our agreement,” he said.

      “As per your demands.”

      “If you like.” He seemed completely unconcerned by her anger, which only fanned the flame. “But I can hardly show up at this dinner without my new, highly publicized fiancée.”

      “Just tell them your fiancée has a life, and doesn’t just hang on your arm professionally twenty-four hours a day.”

      “Oh, they know you don’t do that. I’m sure they think you spend at least twelve hours wrapped around me in bed.”

      She flushed, her vocal cords failing her. The images that were pinging through her brain were graphic, and much more intriguing than she’d like to admit.

      She had done so well, burying any interest in the opposite sex beneath piles of ambition. Then she’d walked into Marco De Luca’s office and her long-ignored hormones had sprung to life and hadn’t left her alone since.

      “In any case, I need you to play your part. This is business, remember?” He said the last part with a mocking edge to his voice.

      “I won’t forget.”

      * * *

      The dinner party was hardly the