The CEO Takes a Wife / The Throw-Away Bride. Maxine Sullivan
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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 in LA, but only because she worked hard to earn the money to keep up her mother’s normally elaborate lifestyle.
Oh God. Could Alex actually know something about her mother? If he did, would he use that knowledge? If rumors started that her mother was in debt up to her neck, her mother’s career, already on a downhill slide, could be all but over.
Her mother would never survive the humiliation.
She needed to play this cool. “I don’t know what you mean. Why would I need your money?”
“Your business is floundering, Olivia. You and your partner overextended by opening boutiques in Sydney, Brisbane and Melbourne and now you’re in debt. You should have just started with the Sydney one.”
She let out a slow breath of relief. So, he didn’t know about her mother at all. Thank heavens!
And funny, but she was pleased to hear his opinion. It had been her intention to open one boutique at a time but Lianne had persuaded her otherwise, her partner thinking it was a great idea to go for three at once.
And it would have been if all their clients had paid them the money they owed.
Naturally the fashion show had put them further in the red. As had another of her mother’s lavish parties put together as a means to help her get a part in a movie that now wasn’t even getting made.
“You need cash to get your business out of trouble,” Alex continued, bringing her mind back to their conversation.
She shrugged. “It’s a temporary cash flow problem, that’s all.”
“You’re an exceptional fashion designer, Olivia, but that won’t save your business. You need money and you need it quickly.”
“I can get the money if I want. I have connections.” And the minute she used them, her boutiques would no longer be her own.
“So why haven’t you used those connections before now? You’re leaving it a bit late.”
She picked up her glass of mineral water and took a sip, giving herself time to reply. “Pride, I guess. I don’t like owing anything to anyone. But if it comes to the crunch, I’ll swallow my pride if I have to.”
A long moment crept by, then, “Marry me, Olivia, and I promise you won’t owe a thing.”
She gave herself a mental shake. “Excuse me?”
“Marry me.”
She laughed as she put down her glass. “You’re delusional.”
Challenge flared in his eyes. “Far from it.”
This was absolutely crazy. She’d only just met the man. Did he even know the type of person she was? Did he care?
“I’m attracted to you,” he said, his gaze dropping to her mouth as if he was tempted to kiss her. “And you’re attracted to me. You felt it as soon as we first saw each other.”
“The only thing I’m feeling is disbelief. And anger.” A woman would have to be desperate to marry a stranger, much less marry a man like Alex Valente. He had to be kidding.
A look of implacable determination crossed his face. “What’s that perfume you’re wearing?”
She stared at him, baffled at the change in subject. “You must know what it is. It’s Valente’s Woman.”
“So you like it then?” He didn’t give her time to answer. “Or did you wear it just for me tonight?” he asked, his voice taking on a husky quality that shivered through her.
She ignored that shiver. “No, I didn’t wear it just for you tonight. It happens to be a gorgeous scent and I love it. I wear it all the time.” And that was the truth.
He inclined his head, his eyes turning businesslike. “And so do most women in Australia.”
“I’m sure you’re right.” This particular perfume called to something inside her. It possessed a fascinating quality and retained a sensual edge that, to her mind, made it the perfect perfume. She rather thought she’d like to wear