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

door for her and she slid inside. He got in and sat beside her, sitting closer to her than was strictly necessary.

      “Are you all right?” Marco asked, studying her drawn face. The encounter with that man had disturbed her. She had kept her wits in place, not letting him cow her, but it had affected her.

      She angled her face away from him, keeping her eyes trained on the brightly lit streets. “Of course. People like that are a part of life, aren’t they? People who resent the success of others.”

      “Perhaps just their methods,” he said coolly.

      “Perhaps. But if I really was climbing the corporate ladder I doubt I would be stuck in a cubicle.”

      “I doubt you would be stuck in a cubicle if you hadn’t been caught messing around with your married supervisor. Word spreads.”

      Her head whipped around. “And sometimes word is wrong. I can’t beat the rumors, Marco. Believe me, I’ve tried. No one believes the truth, and the lie makes me a liability that nobody wants around the office. So I’ve found my way around it. Hard work isn’t going to be enough—not with all of that—” she gestured toward the direction of the hotel “—hanging over my head. But I’m not the woman Daniel says I am, and I refuse to be punished for sins I didn’t commit.”

      Marco shrugged. “Frankly, I don’t care what happened. Whether or not you slept with your boss is wholly irrelevant to me. But I must warn you that while some men might be easily blinded by generous curves, I’m not. You can’t use your body to get to my heart or my bank account.”

      She clenched her teeth. “My body isn’t on offer.”

      “Really?”

      She was angry, he could see that, and it was genuine. At being called out or at being falsely accused, he wasn’t certain. He knew she was calculating—he had known it before she’d walked into his office. But it was no matter to him. He was hardly going to become a victim of her machinations like her foolish supervisor had supposedly been. He wasn’t going to be swayed by her tempting mouth and her lush curves. He was far too jaded for that.

      Of course she was welcome to try. It would make the next twelve months interesting.

      “Really,” she stated emphatically. “For what it’s worth, I have too much pride to seduce my boss into promoting me.”

      He studied the haughty tilt of her chin. It was very possible that she did have too much pride to do anything like that—now. She had been very young after all.

      “It’s no matter to me one way or the other.”

      She scoffed. “Not worried that I’ll take advantage of you?”

      “Not in the least.” He had infinite experience with conniving women. “Although you’re welcome to try.”

      Angry color suffused her milk-pale skin. “I don’t think that will happen. We have a deal. I already have what I want,” she said stiffly.

      He moved his hand to her soft cheek, letting his finger drift along her silken skin. He felt a sharp tug in his midsection and his shaft hardened. What was it about this woman that made her such a temptation? “But what if you could get more? Doesn’t that appeal to you?”

      She blew out a breath, its heat fanning across his hand. “No. I only want what I earn.”

      A slow smile spread across his face. “That could be taken many different ways, cara mia.”

      “You know what I mean,” she said tightly.

      The limo pulled up at the curb in front of her small, shabby apartment building. Neither of them moved.

      She parted her lips and slicked her tongue across their surface. She was pure temptation. And he wasn’t used to resisting.

      He leaned in, half expecting her to draw back. But she met him in the middle, her soft lips clinging, her mouth molding to his, her tongue testing him almost shyly. He cupped the back of her head and crushed her to him, delving deep inside her mouth, tasting her.

      She pulled back abruptly, shoving hard at his chest, her blue eyes rounded, her lips pinched. “That shouldn’t have happened.”

      “It was only a kiss,” he growled, knowing he sounded as frustrated as he felt. But he had been ready to take her in the back seat of his car, with only the privacy shield and tinted glass between them and the world.

      “And it shouldn’t have happened,” she insisted.

      She ran her hands over her tightly knotted hair. Even after their passionate interlude there wasn’t a lock out of place, he noticed with wry humor.

      She drew in a sharp breath and thrust her chin high, her prim façade firmly back in its place. “I would invite you in,” she said tartly, “but I don’t want to.”

      “You want me to come in. You’re just afraid of what might happen if I do.”

      She looked thoughtful. “You’re right. This might be the perfect opportunity to seduce you out of your millions. But, darn it all, I have a headache.”

      He laughed. At least she was amusing. “I guess even temptresses need a night off now and then.”

      She gave him a humorless smile and stepped out of the car.

      “Elaine?”

      She paused, her expression cautious.

      “Next time I see you you’ll be wearing a white dress.”

      CHAPTER FIVE

      THE WEDDING HAD become sort of much-anticipated society event, despite how little time had passed between the announcement and the actual ceremony—or maybe because of that reason. Elaine couldn’t help but think that the haste of the marriage was part of what made it interesting.

      She felt half the eyes in the historic church examining her flat stomach speculatively as she walked down the long aisle.

      The air was heavy with the perfume of flowers, compliments of her overzealous wedding planner, and the late-afternoon sun streamed through a round stained glass window, throwing squares of blue light onto the stone floor. It was a beautiful wedding. But it was someone else’s wedding. None of it was to her taste except for her simple dress. But none of that mattered. All that mattered was what would happen twelve months from this moment. When the company she had worked so hard for would be hers.

      She raised her eyes and looked at her groom, waiting for her at the head of the aisle. She had never seen him look so handsome. His tuxedo was black and well fitted, showing off broad shoulders and a tapered waist. He was in fantastic shape, but hours in the gym weren’t the biggest contributing factor to his immense appeal. He was handsome, criminally so, his chiseled features the perfect blend of masculinity and beauty. But it was his charisma, his raw confidence, his power that made people gravitate to him. He wasn’t like any man, any person, she’d ever met. And she was about to marry him.

      She swallowed. Her throat felt like the inside of a pincushion.

       This is nothing but a business deal. Nothing but another contract.

      She shifted her bouquet and took her groom’s hand.

      * * *

      Elaine had no idea how she’d managed to make it through the ceremony, the receiving line, and four hours of the reception. Her feet hurt from wearing her extremely impractical shoes, and her face hurt from all the overly cheerful smiling. And dancing with Marco, clinging to his arm, trying to pretend that she wasn’t melting from the heat he was making her feel, had been as taxing as it had been torturous.

      She sank into the limo with a sigh, and rested her head on the back of the seat. “That was exhausting.”

      “New brides usually say that after the honeymoon.”

      Heat