The Sicilian's Marriage Arrangement. Lucy Monroe
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for a chink in the old man’s business armor, but Reynolds was a wily campaigner and not a speck of interest or emotion reflected in his gray eyes.
“I will pay you double what you gave my uncle for them.” He’d already offered a fifty-percent return on investment. To no avail.
Reynolds shook his head. “I don’t need more money.”
The words were said with just enough emphasis to make a very pertinent point. Whatever Joshua Reynolds wanted in exchange for those shares, it wasn’t money and he could afford to turn down Luciano’s best offer.
“Then, signor, what is that you do need?” he asked, taking the bait.
“A husband for my granddaughter.”
Impossible! “Che cosa?”
Joshua leaned back in his chair, his hands resting lightly on his oversize executive desk. “I’m getting on in years. I want to make sure I leave Hope taken care of. Regardless of what young women these days believe, and young men when it comes to it—that means seeing her married.”
“I do not think your granddaughter would agree with you.”
“Getting her to agree is your job. The girl doesn’t know what is best for her. She spends all her free time working for the women’s shelter, or the local animal shelter, or doing things like answering phones for the annual MDA telethon. She’s a worse bleeding heart than her grandmother ever was.”
And it was unlikely she found the slightest understanding from the ruthless old bastard sitting across from Luciano. “Are you saying that Hope doesn’t know you’re trying to buy her a husband?”
“I’m not interested in discussing what my granddaughter knows or doesn’t know. If you want those shares, you’re going to have to marry her to get them.”
The shares in question were for the original family-held Valerio Shipping, a company started by his great-grandfather and passed through each successive generation. While it rankled, having a nonfamily member holding a significant chunk of stock was not the end of the world.
He stood. “Keep the shares. I am not for sale.”
“But Valerio Shipping is.”
The words stopped Luciano at the door. He turned. “It is not. I would never countenance the sale of my family’s company.” Although his interests in Valerio Shipping represented a miniscule portion of his business holdings, his family pride would never allow him to offload it.
“You won’t be able to stop me.”
“My uncle did not hold majority stock in the company.” But the fool had sold the large block he had held to Joshua Reynolds rather than approach his nephew when gambling debts had made him desperate for cash.
“No, but with the proxy of some of your distant cousins as well as the stock I have procured from those willing to sell, I do control enough shares in the company to do what I damn well please with it.”
“I do not believe you.” Many of those distant cousins had emigrated, but he could not believe they were so lost to family pride as to give an outsider their proxy or worse, sell their portion of Valerio Shipping to him.
His uncle he could almost believe. The man was addicted to wine, women and casinos. He had the self-discipline of a four-year-old and that was probably giving the man more credit than he deserved.
Reynolds tossed a report on the desk. “Read it.”
Luciano hid his mounting fury as he crossed the room and then lifted the report to read. He did not sit down, but flipped through the pages while still standing. Outraged pride grew with each successive page and coalesced into lava like fury when he read the final page.
It was a recommendation by Joshua Reynolds to merge with Valerio Shipping’s number 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