The Italian Proposal: His Virgin Acquisition / Her Little White Lie. Maisey Yates
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looked up from his laptop. He was sitting across from her in a captain’s chair that was adjacent to the small loveseat she was perched on.
His private plane was the size of her apartment, and was lavishly furnished. She’d probably looked completely gauche when she’d boarded the plane back in New York, her mouth hanging open as she took in the absolute indulgence and luxury of her surroundings.
“Yes. It is. Which is why it’s such valuable real estate.”
Even the matter-of-fact statement sent a shiver of wanting through her. He could recite baseball statistics and still sound unbearably sexy. She’d had her own bedroom and en suite bathroom for the duration of the thirteen-hour flight, but not even that little bit of privacy had been enough to keep her from feeling horribly, embarrassingly aware of the man.
It bordered on being infuriating. Where was her focus? She was so close—twelve months away—to reaching the ultimate prize, and half of her mind, and all of her body, were homed in on Marco.
Maybe it was the natural order. Maybe hormones and normal adult desires could only be ignored and suppressed for so long. Maybe they’d spent the last ten years building up in her system, only to be unleashed on the first desirable male to come within five feet of her.
It wasn’t as though she’d never had the opportunity. There had been plenty of men who’d showed interest in her, especially in college. And she’d even liked some of them, dated some of them. But in the end their lack of ambition had made her crazy, while her driving need for success had driven them away. There had been kisses—none of them overly passionate, all of them ending at the front door. There had never seemed to be the time or the adequate desire for a physical relationship.
And then there had been Daniel. Whom she’d liked a lot. Whom she’d been attracted to—whom she’d very nearly said yes to when he’d asked that all-important question at the door. But in the end she’d turned down his request to come in, nerves or maybe even morals stopping her from accepting.
That moment of refusal had changed everything. The next day Daniel had started spreading the rumors, and by the end of the day everyone knew why she’d been getting promoted. At least they’d thought they did. Nobody would believe that she’d gotten the promotions on her own merit, and her coworkers had been more than willing to believe that she’d slept with the boss rather than believing she might actually be good—better than they were—at what she did. And just like that her career had been killed before it had started.
Which brought her full circle to where she was now. On a private plane that had just landed in Hawaii, with her mercenary husband, whom she was appallingly attracted to, and twelve months of marriage to a man who threw her thoroughly off kilter looming ahead of her.
Marco stood when the plane came to a halt, his laptop secured in its travel case. “We will go straight to the Hanalei Bay Resort and get settled into our accommodations. Later we will be having dinner with James and his wife.”
“Our accommodations? As in, we’re sharing?”
Marco watched as hectic color flooded Elaine’s face. It was a source of amazement to him that a woman of her age could blush so easily. He preferred a more sophisticated type of woman, the kind of woman who didn’t expect anything from a man but a few nights of mutual satisfaction. The only sort of pink any of those women got in their cheeks came from their make-up bag. He found it an interesting sort of challenge, making her blush.
“No, actually I was planning to have you installed down the hall, so that I could use your services by day and entertain my mistress by night.”
Color reddened her neck and slowly climbed into her face, staining her cheeks a deep crimson. “Well, the stipulations of the prenup would certainly allow it,” she said stiffly.
He chuckled. “You’re not getting rid of me so easily, cara mia.” He strode across the cabin of the plane and leaned down, cupping her chin and tilting her face up so that she was forced to meet his eyes. “I’m here to play devoted husband.” He smoothed his thumb along her lush bottom lip. Lust attacked him, hot and hard. “And we’re on our honeymoon. That means you will be staying very, very close to me.”
Her tongue darted out to moisten her lips and the pink tip slicked across his thumb. Electricity shot from his hand to his groin. Her eyes widened, her pupils dilated. She wanted him. She probably wanted his money even more, but there was no denying that she wanted him physically.
And he ached to take her. To pull her to the floor and have his way with her, pound into her while those gorgeous, endless legs were wrapped high around his waist, as she whispered soft, feminine sounds of pleasure in his ear.
He was so hard it hurt.
But he didn’t have any protection with him—and not by accident. He wasn’t taking any chances with this mercenary woman he’d married. His own parents had given him an early crash course in the essence of human nature. Greed and self-satisfaction were at the core of every human being. Even the most honest and good could be corrupted for the right amount. With enough incentive a father could throw his family out onto the streets to fend for themselves. A mother could leave her children when she got a better offer than sleeping in alleyways. Yes, the right incentive could entice people to commit all kinds of sins.
He didn’t trust the woman. Her motives were anything but pure. He was certain of that. She had lied to her own father and married a stranger, all for her personal gain. He had no intention of falling prey to her. She was a fabulous manipulator. She was a calculating businesswoman, the embodiment of sex appeal, a ruthless competitor…and a blushing innocent?
Until he was able to ascertain exactly what her true motives were, exactly which of the characters she portrayed reflected the real woman, he would have to keep his distance.
His erection pulsed in protest.
She turned her face away and picked up her purse. When she faced him again her composure was intact. The face of the flustered girl covered by the mask of a perfectly collected, icy businesswoman.
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