The CEO Takes a Wife by Maxine Sullivan

“So our marriage wouldn’t be permanent then?”

“No.”

This was beginning to sound much more favourable. “And we wouldn’t be sleeping together?”

The corner of Alex’s lip curved up, yet his eyes darkened. “This isn’t make-believe, Olivia. It would be a real marriage.”

Her stomach flipped at the thought of them in bed together.

Making love.

“I swore I’d never marry again.”

His eyes took on a softer look. “This wouldn’t be for love, Olivia. You wouldn’t have to worry about me hurting you.”

She wasn’t so sure about that.

The Throw-Away Bride by Ann Major

Leo’s arm came around her possessively, and he grinned, showing off his perfect, white teeth.

“Good. You’re still here,” he said.

“It’s my bed. My house,” Abby said. “Where would I go?”

“So—are you going to marry me?”

“There are a million logical reasons why that’s a very bad idea.”

“You’re pregnant. If we’re unhappy, we’ll get a divorce. Big deal.”

Big deal? To Abby, it was a very big deal.

Available in November 2009 from Mills & Boon® Desire™

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Marriage, Manhattan Style by Barbara Dunlop

Dante’s Contract Marriage by Day Leclaire

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Pregnancy Proposal by Tessa Radley

The CEO Takes a Wife by Maxine Sullivan

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The Throw-Away Bride by Ann Major

THE CEO TAKES A WIFE
BY MAXINE SULLIVAN

THE THROW-AWAY BRIDE
BY ANN MAJOR

www.millsandboon.co.uk

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THE CEO TAKES A WIFE

Maxine Sullivan credits her mother for her lifelong love of romance novels, so it was a natural extension for Maxine to want to write her own romances. She thinks there’s nothing better than being a writer and is thrilled to be one of the few Australians to write for the Desire™ line.

Maxine lives in Melbourne, Australia, but over the years has travelled to New Zealand, the UK and the USA. In her own backyard, her husband’s job ensured they saw the diversity of the countryside, from the tropics to the outback, country towns to the cities. She is married to Geoff, who has proven his hero status many times over the years. They have two handsome sons and an assortment of much-loved, previously abandoned animals.

Maxine would love to hear from you and can be contacted through her website at http://www.maxinesullivan.com.

Dear Reader,

I must admit that when I read about those high-profile couples who marry, I sometimes wonder if it’s for love or convenience. And if it’s for convenience, what goes on behind the scenes? Why do you marry someone you don’t know or don’t love? How do you? You’d surely have to feel some sort of attraction for the other person to make it a real marriage.

This is the case between Olivia Cannington and Alex Valente, the heroine and hero in my book. Born with silver spoons in their mouths, they have the responsibility of having to marry for a year for reasons other than themselves. Neither has any intention of getting emotionally involved, but in the end it’s their attraction for each other that sabotages them, and they eventually find their sacrifice hasn’t been the sacrifice they thought it was. They fall in love.

Sometimes it takes a while for some people to realise it, but whether rich or poor, if you have true love you have it all.

Happy reading!

Maxine

To all my workmates at my day job. Thanks for all your support and enthusiasm.

Chapter One

“I presume you asked me in here for a reason, Dad?” Alex Valente said, his tone cool and collected as he sat in front of his father’s desk in the opulent tenth-floor office overlooking Sydney Harbour.

There was a moment’s pause. “Yes, there’s a reason,” Cesare Valente replied, leaning back in his leather chair.

Alex ignored the mixture of pride and regret in his father’s eyes. They’d never been close, despite working together all these years. Cesare Valente had come to Australia as a child and was the founder of the House of Valente. Alex was its CEO. The two of them had taken the Australian perfume dynasty and turned it into a national success.

But it wasn’t enough. It had never been enough—for either of them. There were more successes out there, more opportunities to seize, including their upcoming launch in the States of their newest and finest perfume yet—Valente’s Woman. Alex knew his father admired that same drive to conquer in himself. It was part of the reason he’d been tasked with the USA launch.

“And that is…” Alex prompted, leaving the sentence hanging.

“I’ve come to a decision…” Cesare’s pause was surely for effect. “You’re thirty-five years old. It’s time you married and produced an heir.”

Alex felt a brief moment of shock, then his eyes narrowed and his lips twisted. “I’ll take your wishes into consideration if I ever decide to marry.”

“You’re not taking me seriously, figlio mio,” Cesare said, lapsing into Italian to say son of mine.

Alex made a sound of derision. “There’s a reason for that.” He was a Valente, and Valentes didn’t like being ordered about. His father knew that.

“I’m very serious about this,” Cesare said quietly and firmly. “I’m getting older and I’ve recently had a…health scare.”

Something jolted inside Alex’s chest. “You didn’t tell me about that.”

“No, I didn’t.” Just for a moment Cesare’s eyes clouded over, then cleared. “I was having chest pains. They thought it was a heart attack, but I’m thankful it wasn’t. This time. It’s stress. I have to slow down, but I’m not going to hand over the reins of the business to you until I see you married with an heir on the way.”

Alex shot him a withering look. “You’re not asking much.”

“I’m not asking, Alex. I’m telling. You’ve got six months in which to find yourself a wife and start a family or…”

Alex’s brow winged upward in challenge. “Or?”

“I sell the House of Valente to one of our competitors and give the money to charity. And I promise neither you nor your two brothers will see a cent.”

Alex’s jaw clenched. “I could always declare you insane.”

Cesare gave a small smile. “You could try but I don’t think any judge will give you power of attorney. I’m as sane as you are and I intend to do what I like with my own company.”

Alex swore then pushed to his feet. “I don’t need your money, Dad, nor do I need to be CEO. I’ll survive without you.”

“But will your brothers?”

Alex’s shoulders stiffened. He took his status as eldest brother seriously. His own mother had died when he was three years old and Cesare had married again soon afterward. That marriage had lasted all of a year, just enough time for Nick to be born. Then his father had married Isabel, and had stayed married ever since. Matt at least had both his parents around.

“If you don’t do as I ask, then I’ll sell tomorrow. You and your brothers will be out on your own.”

Alex glared down at him. “We’re grown men. We’ll survive.”

“Oh, I have no doubt about that. But do you think it’s fair for them to lose their inheritance like this?”

“Don’t manipulate me,” Alex growled.

“This isn’t manipulation. It’s a guarantee,” Cesare said with quiet emphasis. “Alex, this is too important to me. It’s my legacy to my sons. One day you’ll realize this when you have a child of your own.”

“Go to hell.” Alex strode to the door and closed it behind him with controlled anger. He always wore his detachment like a second skin, but right now he was in danger of losing even that.

One week later

“And now,” a woman’s well-spoken voice said, “here is Anastasia stepping out for an evening of glamour in a beautiful gown that is sure to make a statement. The plunging neckline…”

Alex heard the female voice through the microphone as he strode along the corridor toward the hotel ballroom. Her tone intrigued him even before he saw the woman, her accent Australian with an American twist, its slightly husky quality entrancing him beyond the beat of the music.

“…and doesn’t this set a new style? The classic black is…”

His steps lengthened. He had to see this woman. Had to know if she looked as good as she sounded. He pushed open the door and stepped inside the room, the muted lighting allowing him full view down the well-lit center aisle to the tall, graceful blonde at the podium.

She’d been worth the rush.

Definitely.

Strikingly beautiful, with golden-blond hair pulled back in a sophisticated chignon, she carried an elegance that was as natural as breathing.

There was a round of applause as the model on the runway walked off, and he noticed his stepmother wave to him from the front row. He realized she must have been keeping an eye out for him. He hadn’t exactly been enamored of attending a fashion show, but his father had cried off sick at the last minute and Isabel had been persuasive.

He was never more glad he’d agreed to come, he mused, making his way around the edge of the room toward Isabel…toward this beauty on the stage who could have been one of the models herself.

“For our next outfit, Crystal is wearing a jewel of a gown that…”

Just as he reached his stepmother, he looked up at the podium and his eyes locked with those of the blonde. It was a moment out of time.

“Er…” She faltered just that little bit. “…this accents her perfect figure…”

Alex watched her recover and carry on with the commentary, vaguely aware of Isabel’s whisper chiding him for being late.

The blonde glanced at him again and he caught a flicker of disconcertion in her eyes before she angled her chin and looked away to continue talking.

But it was too late.

He’d seen her reaction. She’d definitely felt something between them, and if that was panic he’d just seen on her face, then she was panicked by her own emotions.

Good. He wanted this woman, and what he wanted he usually got. Until now he’d been a man who only slept with a woman after he’d gotten to know her, but he’d rethink that tonight. The draw of this woman was too strong.

“And now, one of the highlights of the Cannington Collection is this delightful garment showcasing…”

Alex frowned when he heard the Cannington name but before he could think further, Isabel leaned toward him and whispered, “She’s beautiful, isn’t she?”

He pretended not to know who she was talking about. “The model?”

Isabel tutted softly. “No, the presenter. She’s a famous fashion designer in the States and this is her fashion show. She grew up here and now she’s come back to live in Australia. Her mother’s Felicia Cannington, you know. The movie star.”

Alex let that sink in. Most people knew Felicia Cannington was an Australian who’d made it big in Hollywood over three decades ago. She was a much-loved favorite of the big screen.

He glanced again at the beautiful blonde. “And that’s her daughter up there?”

Isabel nodded. “Yes, that’s Olivia Cannington.”

His business brain kicked into gear and he knew he’d just been handed the perfect solution to his problems. For the last week he’d been thinking about nothing but his father’s ultimatum. He’d hoped by now Cesare would admit he’d been totally unreasonable because of his health scare, but the wily old bastard hadn’t backed down. When Cesare Valente wanted something he usually got it.

Not that he’d said anything to his father about it. At first he’d been determined not to give in to Cesare’s demand and planned on ignoring it as long as he could.

But the guilt had been getting to him. How could he let the family business be handed over to a bunch of strangers? More importantly, how could he let Nick and Matt lose their rightful inheritance?

Now he didn’t have to, he decided. He’d grant part of his father’s wish only because he’d found a suitable woman.

As for producing a child…Cesare could whistle in the dark over that. His father would be retiring within the next couple of months anyway and wouldn’t be able to maintain his control over the business. No, a child wouldn’t be a part of the bargain.

It would be just him and the blonde. If she was as captivating as she looked, and if she was available, then he’d found the woman to marry.

Olivia Cannington.

“Good evening, Mr. Valente,” Olivia replied with as much cool politeness as she could. She’d recognized Alex Valente’s name as soon as her business partner had introduced them. The House of Valente was well-known throughout Australia for its excellence in perfume design and production.

“Alex,” he invited, his slate-gray eyes sweeping over her with a burning intensity that made her heart bump against her ribs.

Holding on to her composure, she inclined her head. “Alex.” She ignored the meaningful look Lianne gave her before the other woman excused herself and took off across the room to see to their other guests.

Instead, she let a moment pass as she took a sip of her champagne and tried not to show how much this handsome man affected her.

Darn him. The party after the show was usually a lighthearted affair, with everyone relaxed and ready to enjoy themselves after all the hard work they’d put in to make the collection a success.

But Alex Valente had spoiled the whole thing for her tonight. From the moment he’d stepped into the ballroom he’d caught her attention. It was an attention she didn’t welcome or need, but he’d been staring at her so hard during the show she’d lost her focus. It had unnerved her, making her stumble over her words. That had never happened to her before.

So she wasn’t particularly happy about meeting him now. “Did you enjoy the show?” For all his sophistication, she suspected he was more at home working in his office than attending a fashion show.

“It was…fascinating.”

“Do you often go to fashion shows?” she asked, making small talk, passing the time, hearing the chatter going on around them, the music getting louder.

A wry smile entered his eyes. “No. I only came to accompany my stepmother.”

Olivia remembered seeing the elegant woman sitting next to him. “I see. Did she stay for the party? Is she here now?” Perhaps he’d go find her and not come back. She silently sighed. That was about as likely as the moon turning to cheese.

“No, my father wasn’t feeling well tonight so she decided to go home.”

“I hope he’s okay.”

Alex’s mouth tightened. “He is.”

She considered his words. “You sound certain about that.”

“My father’s very good at getting his own way,” he said brusquely.

“I have a mother who’s the same,” she joked in a moment of empathy, then regretted allowing any correlation between her and Alex.

He didn’t smile.

There was a tiny pause. Then, “God, you’re beautiful.”

She blinked, hardening her heart as it bounced inside her chest. “Oh, puh-lease.”

His jaw clenched. “Don’t prejudge me, Olivia. I don’t need to flatter to get my way. If I like something, I say so. If I want something, I ask.”

“Or take,” she said, her lip curling, instinctively knowing what sort of man he was. Yes, he was a taker. One who’d take a woman to the heights, then down to the very depths of her being.

“See,” he mocked. “You know me already.”

She drew her shoulders back. “Mr. Valente—”

“Alex.”

“Alex, look. I don’t mean to be rude, but—”

“I have a proposition for you.”

Shocked, she still managed to shoot him a withering look. “That figures.”

An icy glint appeared in his eyes. “That’s quite an attitude you’ve got there.”

She suddenly felt defensive. “It’s justified.”

A moment crept by. “So every person you meet is judged by one criterion, are they?”

His question made her angry. He must be intelligent enough to know that all her life people had used her to get to her mother. And now they used her in her own right. Not that it got them very far these days.

Not after Eric.

What a fool she’d been for marrying such a liar and a cheat. Five years ago she’d been twenty-two and unprepared for his lesson in deception. Little had she known he’d wanted her for her money, until he’d found another woman with even more money and had run off with her.

Her chin lifted. “Mr. Valente, if all this is leading somewhere, please tell me where.”

“Dinner.”

Her heart thudded once. “What about it?”

“Have dinner with me tomorrow night.”

Her heart thudded twice. “I can’t.”

He met her gaze for long seconds. “You have another engagement?”

“No.”

There was a slight lifting of his brow. “Then why not have dinner with me?”

She hated this interrogation. “How do you know I’m not involved with someone?”

“If you are, I feel sorry for him. I wouldn’t like it if my woman was attracted to another man the way you are to me.”

She sucked in a lungful of air. “Don’t be ridiculous. I’m not attracted to you.”

He raised his brows.

“Look, I’m sure any other woman would be only too glad to go out with you.” She drew herself up taller. “Please excuse me, now.” With that, she walked away with her back straight and her head held high and let herself be swallowed up in the crowd.

She half expected him to follow her, but after that he seemed to have disappeared. She was glad, she told herself. She already had a headache from the music that was getting progressively louder.

Going out for dinner with a man like Alex Valente would not be prudent, she knew. She already had enough disasters to deal with—she wouldn’t add possible heartache to the list.

Chapter Two

The next day Olivia was in her office when a courier delivered a letter for her marked Personal.

There was just something about that strong handwriting that put her on alert. She gazed down at the white envelope in her hand, noting the way her name had been written in bold strokes. Her heart skipped a beat. Was she being silly to think this was from Alex Valente?

It was.

It read, Dinner tonight. Seven-thirty. Sylvester’s Restaurant.

She stared at the note, her blood pressure beginning to rise. The sheer arrogance of the man! He sure didn’t take no for an answer.

Heavens, just the thought of spending an evening with Alex Valente was enough to give her a serious case of goose bumps. She couldn’t deny she was deeply attracted to him. There was a strength about him that appealed to her.

Of course that was probably because the men in her life had always been weak in some way or other. Her parents had divorced when she was two, and her father had ignored her for most of her life. Her successive two stepfathers had both been kind but self-centered. And her ex-husband had only been interested in himself. They hadn’t been good examples of the male species.

So why did she think Alex Valente was?

By six that evening she knew she would meet him. She had too much to worry about these days and wondering what Alex wanted from her did not need to be added to her list.

At least the restaurant was neutral ground, she told herself, showering then dressing in one of her own classic designs. The cream-colored pantsuit flattered her tall slim figure. Matching leather pumps completed a sophisticated but businesslike effect.

She might as well have worn nothing, she mused an hour later. Alex had watched her entrance into the restaurant with a masculine appreciation that sent a tingle of anticipation along her spine.

“Glad you could make it,” he said, his voice low and throaty as she reached the corner table.

“I’m not,” she said, then quickly cleared the huskiness from her throat.

A knowing look entered his eyes. “So why did you come?”

She angled her chin at him. “To tell you that I found your note arrogant and to make it clear I want nothing to do with you.”

“You could have just phoned and said the same thing.”

“But would you have given up?”

He arched a brow. “Do I look like a man who gives up?”

“No.”

“Then you have your answer.” He held out her chair for her. “Let’s eat first.”

She swallowed. First? She didn’t 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 it for the rest of her life.

“We’re about to launch it in the States in a big way,” he said, drawing her from her thoughts. “And I’ve come to a decision. We can use all the publicity we can get, but I can’t think of any better publicity than the CEO of the House of Valente marrying someone with the famous Cannington name.”

She was so shocked at his reasoning, it took her a moment to think past what he was saying.

And then a derisive sound escaped her mouth. “Let me get this right. You’ll pay me to marry you for the sake of a perfume?”

“Why not? I’ve heard of worse reasons. And while it’s too late for the launch right now, we could eventually promote the perfume along with your line of fashion.” He leaned back comfortably in his chair and took another sip of his Scotch. “Marry me and I’ll pay all your debts.”

Pay her debts? Plus the chance to combine the Valente perfume and her fashion designs? The thought of it intrigued her.

Then she realized she was actually thinking about it. Good grief! There was no way she was going to consider marrying a man for money. No way at all.

Her hand tightened around her glass. “As delightful as your offer sounds,” she said with sarcasm, “I really can’t accept it.”

His gaze penetrated to the bone. “You’re between a rock and a hard place. How else will you get the money?”

“Perhaps I’ll go to the newspapers and sell them a story. I’m sure they’d be very interested in your offer.”

His look was of faint amusement. “But then I’d have to tell them about your financial crisis. And I’m sure they’d be equally as interested in that, if not more.”

Damn him. She had to protect her mother, especially now, when Felicia badly needed to get her career back on track. After all, the one time she’d really needed her mother, Felicia had been there for her, helping her through the divorce. Not to mention, her mother had given her money to help start up her fashion design business in the first place.

But as Olivia looked at Alex, her brow crinkled in a frown. What was this actually about? What was his reasoning behind it all? A man like Valente didn’t need to marry her. His own family had plenty of wealth and privilege. She couldn’t see how Valente’s Woman could possibly fail in America. Not with Alex Valente running the show.

She tilted her head and considered him. “There’s more to your offer than you’re saying.”

Wary surprise flickered in his eyes. He took a sip of his Scotch before answering. “That’s very perceptive of you. You’re a sharp lady.”

Her heart gave a little flutter at the compliment. “This isn’t about me,” she reminded him.

Sudden tension tautened the hard line of his shoulders. “My father thinks it’s time I married. He says he’ll sell the business and give the proceeds all away to charity if I don’t, and neither of my two brothers nor myself will get a cent.”

She blinked in shock. This man would hate to be told what to do. “That seems rather drastic.”

“My father never does anything in half measures,” he said, somewhat cynically. “He’s being forced to retire for health reasons, and he’s tasked me with the American launch. I expect he’ll want me to take over as head of the company, only he won’t do that until I’m settled.”

“So you’re after your father’s approval then?” she said, somewhat surprised by the thought. Not that there was anything wrong with wanting a parent’s approval. It was just thatAlex seemed too independent, too remote to worry about what anyone else thought.

Not a flicker of emotion crossed his face. “No, I couldn’t care less about his approval,” he said, confirming her intuition. “This is for the sake of the company and for my two younger brothers.”

She frowned. “It’s a big request.”

His mouth set in a stubborn line. “I’ve decided to play along for a year.”

“So our marriage wouldn’t be permanent then?”

“No.”

This was beginning to sound much more favorable. “And we wouldn’t be sleeping together?”

The corner of his lips curved up, yet his eyes darkened. “This isn’t make-believe, Olivia. It would be a real marriage.”

Her stomach flipped at the thought of them in bed together.

Making love together.

Feeling flushed, she had to drag her eyes away from him…then back. “If the Cannington name is all you want, you could always marry my mother,” she joked, but instantly regretted it. Her mother was still a beautiful woman. And she’d been married three times already.

His gaze strayed over her. “No. You’re the one I want.”

His comment snatched her breath away. With a supreme effort, she mentally fought to put up a wall. “I’ve been married before, you know.”

His eyes narrowed. “I know.”

Panic rose in her throat. She couldn’t do it. No, not for the business. Not for her mother. Not even for a year. The heartache had been too much last time.

Somehow she managed to get a grip. “But I’m divorced. Doesn’t that make me less than perfect?” she said, giving him an out, putting a stop to all this craziness. She had to.

Someone had to.

A frown creased the skin between his brows. “No, it doesn’t.”

A warm feeling bounced inside her chest, but she tried to stay strong. “I swore I’d never marry again.”

His eyes took on a softer look. “This wouldn’t be for love, Olivia. You wouldn’t have to worry about me hurting you.”

She wasn’t so sure about that. Heartache and marriage usually went together. It had happened in her mother’s three marriages, and in her own one.

Alex placed his half-empty glass on the table. “I’ll give you twenty-four hours to think things over.”

“How generous,” she quipped. Somehow she didn’t think a lifetime was enough to think things over with this man.

“Be home tomorrow night. I’ll drop by your apartment.”

“Or you could just phone me,” she mocked, using the same comment he’d used when she’d first arrived.

“No chance. I’m not letting you escape.”

Her chin lifted. “You may not have a choice.”

“You may not either.”

Just then the waiter returned and she bit her lip to stop from making a remark. Fine. She’d allow him the last word.

This time.

Olivia spent a restless night thinking over Alex’s offer, trying to decide whether she needed to take the drastic action of marrying a man for money. One minute she convinced herself she could do it, then she couldn’t. She would, then she wouldn’t.

Heavens, if it’d just been for the business’s sake she’d dismiss it out of hand and take her chances with a bank. But the opportunity to earn some money without needing to pay it back, and without needing to explain why half of that money needed to go to her mother, was sobering.

Yet marriage?

She couldn’t.

And then she reminded herself how her mother had helped her through the divorce. Shattered by Eric’s betrayal, the last thing Olivia had expected was that her mother would bring her back home to Australia for a few months to recover. Olivia wouldn’t forget her mother being there for her.

But marriage to Alex? Dear Lord, she wasn’t sure she could ever learn to trust another man.

She froze. Or did she really need to worry about trust? Alex had said it wasn’t a love match, so at least he was being upfront about it.

The next evening she opened her apartment door to him with a noncommittal expression, but her pulse had quickened. There was no doubt he affected her. Everything about him suggested an intense and indelible masculinity that made her tingle.

This isn’t make-believe, Olivia. It would be a real marriage.

She swallowed hard and closed the door behind him. “Would you like a drink?”

He stood a few feet away in the open-plan living room. “What do you have?”

She pasted on a false smile. “Prune juice?”

He gave a husky chuckle. “Coffee if you have it.”

“I do.” She went to turn toward the kitchen.

“Remember those words.”

She stopped with a frown. “What do you—” She realized what he meant. “Oh.”

“They sound perfect for a wedding ceremony, don’t you think?” His eyes were watchful.

But she wasn’t about to give him the satisfaction of telling him her decision yet. Let him wait. He had to learn he couldn’t always get his own way. Or control people. Not her anyway.

She turned and walked into the kitchen, then glanced up to see him following her. Ignoring him, she reached for the coffeepot but could feel his eyes looking around the apartment then on her, no doubt comparing her modest surroundings to a Hollywood lifestyle.

Only she couldn’t explain that she lived modestly for a reason. That she’d been paying her mother’s debts off these past few years. Anyway, this was no hardship. She’d been mostly raised by her grandmother here in Sydney in a comfortable suburban house, far from the excesses of LA.

“You enjoy being a fashion designer?”

She poured the coffee into two mugs. “Yes. I wouldn’t do it otherwise.”

“You never wanted to be a movie star like your mother?”

She passed him a mug. “I can’t act.”

He casually leaned against the door frame. “So it doesn’t run in the blood then?”

“I’m a simple girl at heart,” she half joked, then rested against the kitchen counter and looked at him over the top of her mug. “If you’re expecting more then you’re going to be disappointed.”

His gaze lingered on her. “No, I don’t think I will be,” he murmured, making the breath hitch in her throat.

“I—” She wasn’t even sure what she was going to say. Something…anything…to stop the overwhelming need to step into his arms. “This is crazy,” she said.

“No, it isn’t.”

Realizing she was giving away too much of what she was feeling, she swung around and placed her coffee mug in the sink. Taking a calming breath, she turned back to meet his eyes. “Alex, look—”

“What’s your decision, Olivia?”

“I’ll marry you,” she said, seeing his eyes flare with satisfaction—mixed with something else. “On one condition. You give me half the money now.”

Whatever that something else was that she’d seen lurking in his eyes disappeared. He gave a hard laugh as he put his mug down on the table. “I’m a businessman, Olivia. I’m not about to give you any money before you marry me.”

She felt a spurt of anger. “My word isn’t good enough?”

Irritation swept over his face. “Look, this isn’t about your word. It’s not personal. This is a business decision.”

“Not personal? You want me to marry you and share your bed and you say it’s not personal?” Her brow arched. “Just when does it get personal, Alex?”

His jaw set but he acknowledged her words with a nod. “Okay, I concede the point.”

Olivia met his gaze levelly. “Then we have an agreement?”

A brief hesitation as he scrutinized her, then, “Yes.”

Relief swept through her. Relief she would get the money, not relief she was marrying him, she told herself. “Good.”

For a moment she wondered if she should tell him about her mother’s money problems. Could she trust him? No. She didn’t know him at all. Besides, it was her mother’s secret.

As for her own secret, she’d never tell him about that. She wouldn’t have to tell him about it, considering the briefness of their upcoming marriage.

Suddenly he was all business. “Can you be ready in two weeks’ time?”

Her mouth dropped open. “Two weeks?”

“We have to do this as soon as possible. I’ve already booked the Sydney Opera House for the ceremony.”

She swallowed, ignoring for the moment that the Opera House was one of the most beautiful venues in the world. “You were that certain of me?”

“Yes.”

“You’re an arrogant bastard.”

“I believe you’ve mentioned that already,” he drawled.

“I can’t possibly be ready in two weeks’time. I’m off to LA in a couple of days. I promised my mother I would visit with her. She hasn’t been feeling very well lately.”

And that was an understatement. Her mother knew she couldn’t continue with her lavish parties and her high maintenance. She knew it was coming to an end unless she found herself a major role.

All at once Alex looked thoughtful. “You know something. This could play in our favor. If you keep a low profile while you’re over there, it will add to the mystique of our wedding.”

Our wedding.

She sent him a cynical look. “Yes, and we definitely want mystique for those perfume sales, don’t we?”

He glanced at her oddly, as if it was a given. “It’ll help your sales as well.”

Okay, so he was right. But getting her mother to keep a low profile when the media were bound to be knocking at their door? Impossible! Of course, using Alex’s “mystique” angle might be the way to go. Felicia loved “mystique.” She knew the value of it.

“What about your father?”Alex asked, drawing her from her thoughts. “Do you want him at the wedding?”

An old heartache jarred but she quickly stomped on it. “No. He lives in Vancouver with his family and I have little to do with him.”

He nodded with a grimace. “Some men don’t know when they’ve got a good thing.”

She shrugged. “Owen Cannington was a B-grade actor who gave it all up years ago. He divorced my mother when I was two.”

“She kept his name,” he pointed out.

“Only because she was becoming well-known as Felicia Cannington.” Her lips twisted. “Mum said she may as well make some use of him.”

“Sounds like the divorce was amicable,” he mocked.

She couldn’t help herself. She had to smile, if only the tiniest one she could find.

Taking her by surprise, Alex was suddenly in front of her, putting his hand under her chin. She started to speak, but his mouth closed over hers, holding her there beneath him, taking without asking, as if it was his right.

And then his tongue dipped inside her mouth and did a sweep, exploring her, getting to know her, until she shuddered from a flood of sensation that shook her world.

He eased back, his eyes dark with a passion that didn’t surprise her at all. “There,” he murmured huskily. “At least that’s one thing we’ve got out of the way.”

She swallowed hard. “Um…I didn’t know it was in the way.”

He arched a mocking brow before leaving. They both knew she was lying, if even to herself.

Chapter Three

Alex watched Olivia walk toward him in her wedding gown. The white, off-the-shoulder, satin dress was slim and elegant, and it looked absolutely stunning on her. How had he not known she existed before this? he wondered, filled with a deep satisfaction that he’d found the woman he’d wanted for his temporary wife.

God, she was beautiful.

Beautiful and lovely and so very picture-perfect.

Surprisingly he’d missed her these last two weeks and had actually been pleased to see her when she’d arrived back in the country only forty-eight hours ago.

There’d been a hell of a lot to do with a high-profile wedding such as theirs, the time having gone fast, though not fast enough for his peace of mind. He’d wanted this marriage signed and sealed and he wanted Olivia Cannington in his bed. Just the thought of making her his sent the blood rushing through him.

Right then she reached him and their eyes met for one long moment before they turned toward the female marriage celebrant.

The ceremony began, and through the huge window in front of them, they could see the sun shine on the spectacular backdrop of the famous Sydney Harbour Bridge suspended over vibrant blue water dotted with sails.

They exchanged traditional wedding vows, and Alex felt a twinge of guilt when he promised “to cherish her until death do us part.” He would have liked to change the vows to “to have and to hold for as long as they both stayed married.” Only he didn’t want to think about divorce on their wedding day.

Then suddenly their marriage was a fact and he was told he could kiss the bride.

With pleasure.

Soft pink colored Olivia’s cheeks as he leaned toward her. Seeing her eyes drop to his mouth sent something powerful flaring inside him. He placed his lips against hers for a long moment that wasn’t wholly for the benefit of their guests.

Tonight there would be no audience…

Soon they stood on the steps of the Opera House, where it seemed the world’s media wanted to take their picture.

Not that he minded, usually. He’d grown up in the Australian spotlight, but this was different. One part of him felt a wedding day should be private, yet another part was gratified he’d done the right thing in using this avenue to highlight Valente’s Woman.

“Can we have a photograph of you and Olivia looking deep into each other’s eyes?”

He glanced at Olivia with a sideways smile. “Can we do that?”

She gave a tight smile. “Yes, I think we can,” she said, but only he could see her eyes were guarded as he turned to stare into them.

“You’re doing fine,” he murmured, noticing the flecks of different shades of blue that sparkled in her eyes.

She winced a little. “This is hard work.”

“Just pretend you love me,” he drawled, attempting to put her at ease.

A genuine smile tilted the corners of her mouth. “It would be easier if I didn’t hate you so much.”

He chuckled and cameras snapped all around them, and he realized being joined in holy matrimony with Olivia was going to be more than interesting. She was a challenge. And he liked challenges.

“Can we have a picture of you both with the bride’s mother?”

Alex felt Olivia stiffen beside him and that reminded him of last night’s dinner. She’d seemed edgy around Felicia, as though she expected her mother to take center stage all the time.

And of course “the star” had done exactly that, he remembered with mild amusement. The older woman was elegant and charming, and he could easily see where Olivia got those same qualities from.

Yet he sensed Felicia had an emotional fragility about her that Olivia didn’t. Perhaps that’s what made Felicia such a good actress, he mused, as she came forward and smiled at the cameras like the pro she was.

“Felicia, how does it feel to be the mother of the bride?” one of the journalists called out.

“Old,” she said with a pout.

Everyone chuckled. “You’re not so old, Felicia,” the journalist said.

Felicia sent him a stunning movie-star smile. “Darling, I love you.” She winked. “Come and see me after the reception.”

“I’ll hold you to that,” the reporter quipped with a huge grin.

Felicia chuckled, stepping between Olivia and Alex and linking her arms through theirs. “Let’s smile for the cameras, darlings.”

A few minutes later, they were still snapping pictures. Alex looked across at Olivia and could see how much of a strain it was becoming. He felt the same. On the other hand, Felicia seemed as though she would go on forever, cornering the attention and loving it all. It’s what she did best.

He stepped away from the women. “Right, that’s enough,” he all but growled. They still had a reception to get through.

Felicia darted a look at him and seemed to realize the moment was over. She turned back to the cameras and clapped her hands. “Right, fellas. That’s a wrap. This is my daughter’s day and I want to go play mother of the bride.”

Alex looked beyond the words and realized something. He had no doubt Felicia loved her daughter, but he had to wonder if Felicia didn’t love Felicia just that little bit more. He suddenly had a new appreciation of what it must be like to live with a superstar.

And he had a new appreciation of Olivia as her own person. For Olivia to get out from under her mother’s shadow, to make a name for herself as she’d done, showed her depth of character. He’d chosen well in his bride.

Hell, and he’d just gotten married!

His sacrifice had been worth it.

Then he looked at his new wife and all at once it didn’t seem like such a sacrifice. There would be benefits.

Very nice benefits.

Not the least of which would be making love to a flawless beauty who put up walls he now intended to pull down.

Olivia was glad when they moved back inside the Opera House to the waiting reception. Not that she had escaped the prying eyes. There were at least three hundred guests here today and the haste of their marriage had most of them looking at her and Alex with suspicion.

Was she or wasn’t she?

It was a thought she tried to put to the side and not think about. It had been the same last night at a Valente family dinner in her honor. She couldn’t help but note the question in everyone’s eyes.

Everyone’s except Cesare Valente’s.

He knew why Alex was marrying her so hastily.

Surprisingly, Olivia hadn’t expected to like Alex’s father, but she did. And his stepmother, Isabel, was a doll. Both his parents hit it off really well with Felicia, and Isabel had even promised to keep an eye on Felicia until her mother returned to the States in a week’s time. Her mother was such a good actress that a week of being charming to people who were charmed by her shouldn’t be so difficult.

As for herself, she hadn’t realized how much of an actress she was until today. As she danced with Alex, she tried not to let everyone see how much he affected her. And he knew it, too. That confident, arrogant gleam in his eyes told her how much he knew it with every step they took.

“You look beautiful in that wedding dress,” he murmured, sending her heart pounding like a hammer.

“Thank you.”

“Was it something you just threw together?” he teased.

Her lips twitched. “Actually I designed it for the daughter of a billionaire, but the wedding was called off at the last minute so I got to keep the dress.”

“I hope they paid you for it.”

She glanced away then back again. “We’re still working on that” The father was being obstructive, which no doubt accounted for his billions.

Alex frowned. “Let me know if you need any help.”

Olivia couldn’t help it. She chuckled. “What are you going to do? Set the dogs on him?”

He grinned. “I could rough him up a little for you.”

She laughed again and his grin widened. Maybe it was from being whirled around the dance floor, but all at once she felt giddy—giddy with the pleasure of looking at him. Seconds ticked by, and the gleam in his eyes told her he felt something, too.

The music ended, giving her the chance to move out of his arms. Soon they stood talking to his two brothers and Olivia tried to look calm.

“How’s it feel to be an old married man now, Alex?” Nick Valente teased, his lips curved in a confident smile that must be a family trait.

Alex slid his arm around Olivia, pulling her close to smile down at her. “Can you blame me for wanting to tie the knot with this beauty?”

She felt herself flush, but drew her gaze away from Alex and found both Nick and Matt considering her with piercing eyes.

“No,” Matt drawled. “I can’t say I blame you at all.”

Olivia stared at all three men. Handsome was too tame a word for them. Yet it was more than just looks. It was an innate quality. They were men who knew who they were and what they wanted. Nothing would stop them.

She wondered if they suspected the sacrifice their older brother had made for them. Alex had told her they didn’t know about his father’s demand, but she wasn’t so sure they didn’t suspect something. It was there in the way both men looked at her, as if they didn’t trust any woman or her motives, and especially when that woman had hooked one of them in marriage.

Thankfully, Isabel came up to them with Cesare, sniffing back tears in an elegant manner. “Cesare, I can’t believe our eldest boy is now married.”

Olivia knew that Isabel was Alex’s stepmother, not his real mother, who had died when he was small, but by all accounts he considered Isabel his “true” mother.

Cesare glanced at Alex then away again. “Izzie, he’s a grown man, not a boy,” he said, a hint of gruffness in his voice that made Olivia look at him and wonder if he regretted forcing his son into this marriage. A moment later she came up against a new, determined look in the older man’s eyes that said his moment of regret had passed.

“Oh, Cesare,” Isabel lightly scolded. “I’m allowed to be sentimental today. I’m the mother of the groom.” She hugged Olivia. “And I have a beautiful daughter now, too,” she said, sending a warmth through Olivia that made her suddenly want to cry.

“Pity I didn’t see her first,” Nick joked, giving Olivia a slow wink.

“It wouldn’t have mattered,” Alex said, pulling her in even closer against his hip, his voice totally serious. “She was mine from the moment I saw her.”

She gasped, even as Nick stared at Alex and held his gaze. Then whatever he saw had the middle brother nodding in agreement. “I believe you’re right.”

Olivia’s moment of warmth disappeared but before she could take them to task for their comment, Isabel said, “Stop it, you two. You’re embarrassing Olivia.”

But Olivia wasn’t embarrassed.

She was angry.

It was bad enough knowing she’d walked into this marriage with her eyes open, but making her sound as if she was something to be tossed back and forth between the brothers didn’t make her feel exactly civil toward them.

As if Isabel knew, she clicked her tongue and slipped her arm through Olivia’s, drawing her away from Alex. “Come on, sweetie. Let’s go see your mother. She’ll be missing you.”

Olivia gladly let herself be taken away, but a few steps on, Isabel squeezed her arm. “Take no notice of them, Olivia. They’re fine men who get a bit carried away with their own self-importance at times.” She laughed lightly. “Their father’s the same.”

Olivia found herself smiling back. It was good to know Isabel understood. This Valente woman knew how to keep her man in line.

Then she realized she was one of the Valente women now. Would she be able to keep Alex in line? Unlikely. She’d probably go mad in the attempt.

Hours later Olivia had changed out of her wedding finery into a soft-pink suit. Alex had also changed out of his tuxedo into dark trousers and a sports jacket. Then they said their goodbyes, hopped in a limousine and headed for the airport, where a private jet would fly them up along the coast far north of Sydney to the Valente holiday home near Ballina.

“So,” Alex said, once they were in the air and comfortable on the luxurious leather chairs opposite each other. “You enjoyed our wedding?”

She gave a polite smile. “The venue was perfect. Thank you.”

“You were wrong about not being able to act. You did well.”

Her smile widened with self-derision. “Perhaps I should become an actress after all?”

His face closed up, his jaw clenching. “After our marriage is over. Not before.”

“I’m not sure your brothers were fooled.”

“Even if they suspected something, I won’t be telling.” Tension suddenly filled the air. “I suggest you stay away from them as much as possible.”

If they’d been a normal married couple she’d think he was a little jealous of her spending time with his brothers. As it was, it sounded as if he was just being possessive of her. She was his now.

Her lips tightened. “I don’t plan on spending any more time with your brothers than necessary.”

“Good.”

Their gazes held for a brief moment before she turned to look out the window. All at once she felt tired. The last thing she remembered was how exhausted she felt by everything.

She woke to find Alex leaning forward, his warm hand clasping her knee, gently shaking her awake. “We’re almost there,” he murmured, his eyes a dark smoky gray, his touch a caress that radiated upward along her thigh.

Quickly she pretended he wasn’t having an effect on her, but that was like pretending he didn’t exist. He did exist, and so did his touch. And knowing he’d been watching her sleep…

She shifted and he dropped his hand. “I hope I wasn’t sleeping with my mouth open,” she said, trying to keep things light.

He leaned back in his chair with a masculine smile that smoldered with awareness. “I’ll let you know tomorrow if you snore,” he drawled, his gaze dropping to the white camisole she wore beneath her jacket.

She could feel her nipples tighten and her cheeks heat up. “I’ve been told I don’t.” There!

His smile disappeared. His eyes flicked out the plane’s window then back. “We’ll be landing soon. Do you want to freshen up? There’s bound to be a photographer or two at the airport.” He sounded detached now.

She groaned inwardly, not wanting to be on show anymore today. “Didn’t they get enough pictures at the wedding?”

He shrugged.

She gave a nod of acceptance then stood, unnecessarily smoothing her skirt. “I’d better go make myself presentable.”

“You’re more than presentable,” he said, a throaty quality to his voice that made her want to break into a run.

Make that a sprint, she decided, ignoring Alex’s gaze down the length of her back as she calmly made her way to the bathroom. Once inside she collapsed back against the door. Whoever said love made the world go round hadn’t got it right. It was more sexual attraction that did that.

The sunset was beautiful as they departed the jet, but Olivia barely had time to notice as they walked through some camera flashes to another waiting limousine. She usually wasn’t unnerved by the media, but right now she was. At the wedding it had been different.

Less personal.

Now she suddenly felt off-balance and—dare she think it—out of her depth with everything. It was bad enough that Alex probably guessed how she was feeling, but she didn’t want the world to know it, too.

Twenty minutes later they drove along a winding road to a floodlit mansion. Set in a lush sub-tropical garden, the two-story house had wide verandas surrounding both top and bottom levels. Palms swayed in the light breeze off the crystal waters and tapped against the louvered-glass windows that covered most of the house.

An older Australian couple greeted them at the door to welcome them to Villa Valente and then Alex suggested she retire to the main suite where they would eat a late dinner.

“I have a couple of calls to make first. I’ll join you in about half an hour.”

She nodded with relief, looking forward to having some time alone as she followed Harriet up the stairs. They had a minor discussion about the wedding, and the older woman, who seemed very nice, showed her around the deluxe suite, which included a small intimate table set for two in the corner.

There was a pale-blue silk gown and matching robe draped on the king-size bed. “Is this from Alex?” Olivia asked, carefully keeping her voice blank, not sure if she liked him buying her clothes. It smacked too much of proprietorship.

“No. It’s a wedding gift from Martin and me.” Harriet’s face softened. “I know you’re a wonderful fashion designer, Mrs. Valente, but I thought you might like this as a personal gift from us. You don’t have to wear it tonight if you don’t want to.”

Olivia relaxed with a smile. “It’s lovely, thank you. And yes, I will wear it tonight.”

“It’s our pleasure.” Harriet walked to the door. “Let me know if you need anything else.”

Olivia nodded, but as the door closed she looked down at the bridal lingerie that was even more glamorous than that she’d planned on wearing for Alex, the outfit he would take off her slowly and seduc tively, or perhaps in a hurry. She trembled with fear—not of him physically hurting her—but of him physically knowing her body.

But, she reminded herself, she’d marriedAlex today.

She’d made a promise to be his wife.

When she came out of the bathroom after showering, the man himself was standing near the table. He’d obviously showered in another bathroom then changed into gray trousers and a black polo shirt that made him look drop-dead handsome.

Heat flared in his eyes. “I didn’t think you could get more beautiful,” he rasped. “But you are.”

Giving an inner moan at the way she dissolved at his words, she shrugged. “Harriet and Martin bought it for me,” she said quickly, not wanting him to think she’d dressed like this totally for him. “I couldn’t not wear it.”

He held her gaze a moment more. “They have good taste.”

She stepped forward, looking at the table. “Speaking of taste, this all looks very delicious.”

He waited until she was closer then held out a chair for her. “Yes, it does. Nothing but the best for—”

“A Valente?” she quipped, taking a seat.

“I was going to say for you,” he murmured near her ear.

“Oh.” He was close behind her. She expected his hands to slide over her shoulders and she tensed, preparing for it, almost wanting it. But that was only because she wanted to get this out of the way, she told herself when he sat down opposite and passed her a glass of wine.

His glass clinked intimately against hers. “To us.”

She held his gaze, feeling herself flush. “To us.”

They both took a sip from their drinks, then Alex placed his glass on the table. “Now, what would you like to try first?” he drawled, a roguish glint entering his eyes.

She swallowed hard and tried to act sophisticated. Was he suggesting she try him?

Heavens, if he expected her to take the lead then he was in for a shock. There wasn’t a woman alive who wouldn’t like to make love to him, including herself, but tonight she couldn’t quite bring herself to make the first move. She just wasn’t sexually experienced enough to be blasé about all this.

She swallowed past her dry throat. “The seafood salad looks nice.”

He shot her a knowing look. “Yes,” was all he said, then gestured for them to start helping themselves.

After that they ate and made idle conversation about the house, the weather, the food. It wasn’t a getting-to-know-you time but more a staving off of the inevitable—at least, for Olivia.

And then Alex took a slip of paper out of his pocket and pushed it across the table toward her. “Here’s a check for the rest of the money. I want you to have it now and not after we make love.”

His face was unreadable but something softened inside her, despite her pulse leaping all over the place. It was nice to know he was sensitive about her feelings.

“Thank you,” she whispered, leaving the check where it was for the moment. She’d paid half of his other generous check into her business account and half into her mother’s account in LA. It had held both banks at bay until she could cash this latest check.

As for Alex, any man who put his family first had to have some sort of sensitivity about him, she admitted, liking that he was doing this for his brothers, just as she was doing this partly for her mother. They at least had this in common.

And that reminded her.

She tilted her head at him. “Alex, I like your father. I think his heart’s in the right place.”

In a split second Alex’s jaw hardened. “You’ve known him five minutes and you figured that out, did you?”

Oh damn. She regretted saying anything now. Their moment of bonding had disappeared.

“Sometimes you don’t need to know a person long to know what they’re like,” she pointed out coolly. “You certainly made up your mind about me quickly enough.”

A heartbeat passed, then his hard mouth visibly relaxed and the sexy look in his eyes told her seduction was now on his mind. “Yes, I did, didn’t I?” Without warning, he reached across and lifted her hand in his, tugging her gently to her feet.

The breath stalled in her throat. Oh heavens. What had she started? “Alex, I—”

“And that’s because I know when something feels right,” he cut across her, pulling her the few steps toward him around the table, making her tremble, his intention obvious.

“Alex—”

“And you feel right to me, Olivia Valente,” he murmured, pulling her onto his lap, his intense gaze holding hers still, just like his warm hand was holding her waist still. “Very, very right.”

She licked her lips. “Alex, can we please—”

“Yes, we can,” he muttered, and lowered his head.

Chapter Four

Alex’s mouth covered hers and the room grew silent as he held her, absorbing the texture of her soft skin against his own. He’d only kissed her twice before, so he wanted to stay like this for a while and appreciate every inch of her mouth.

He did for several heartbeats.

But soon he couldn’t ignore his need to explore farther. He needed to delve into her luscious mouth, then uncover her bit by bit. He wanted to know the excitement, feel the intensity, learn the mystery of her body.

And he wanted it now.

He parted her lips with his own, and her sweet breath slid straight into him. He groaned and took a moment to savor it, before letting his tongue do a silent sweep.

He moved his mouth over hers slowly. And then she started to kiss him back, learning his taste, feeling his excitement as pleasure surged through him.

When he finally began to ease away, he scraped his teeth lightly across her bottom lip. “Third time’s the charm,” he murmured, noting the way her pupils had dilated.

She blinked. “Um…third time?”

“This is our third kiss.” He bent his head again. “And this…” he needed more “…is our fourth.”

He kissed her deeply again before drawing back to place kisses along her smooth jawline. His lips brushed against her earlobe and he lingered there, breathing in the light floral scent of her hair.

After taking his fill, he leaned back and ran a finger along the underside of her chin. Then he followed the column of her throat to where her quickened pulse drummed at its base, down to the first dainty button of her blue robe resting on her cleavage.

His libido climbed.

“Undo it for me,” he commanded.

She gasped, her blue eyes widening. “The button?”

“Yes.” He only had one hand free, the other was holding her by the waist. “Then undo the rest of them.”

Her eyes were hesitant beneath her long eyelashes, but after a moment she lifted her hands and began to do as he asked. The silk parted as button after button broke free, leaving behind the blue silk gown made to capture a man’s attention.

It did.

And there was nothing pure about the thoughts running through his mind. “You dazzle me,” he rasped, seeing the outline of two dark nipples peeking through the shiny material.

He felt her quiver as his thumb ran over the tip of one bud. He did it again, then held the nipple between his finger and thumb, squeezing lightly. Her quiver turned to a shudder.

Relishing the feel of her coming alive under his hands, he bent his head to that breast and began sucking through the material, flicking her with his tongue.

She gave a whimper and her head arced back against his shoulder. One of her arms came around his neck and she held on to him, burying her face in his nape and breathing deeply. Just as quickly, she pulled back, as if caught doing something she shouldn’t.

He felt heat explode inside him. “Do that again,” he muttered against her breast.

She froze for a split second, hesitated before she did it again, making him groan. They stayed like that for a short time, then finally he lifted his head and she moved her face back.

He looked into her eyes. “A man could lose himself in you and never want to be found,” he rasped.

Her eyes darkened. “Oh, Alex.”

His gaze slowly slid down her body to where the material pooled at the apex of her thighs. He looked up. “You don’t like me saying that?”

“Yes.” She swallowed. “I do.”

His palm slid downward, over her abdomen and her soft mound before resting between her legs. She gasped as he stroked her with his finger through the gown. “You don’t like me touching you?” he teased huskily.

“Yes…” her throat convulsed “…I do.”

He had to feel her naked body. He had to see all her creamy smooth skin. He pushed to his feet, with her in his arms, and stood her in front of him. Then he eased the silky robe off her shoulders, letting it drop to the floor. The matching nightgown was next and he shuddered when he saw how perfect she was.

Their eyes locked.

“Alex,” she murmured, her eyes darkening, her cheeks coloring, though she made no attempt to cover herself.

Lifting her, he carried her to the bed. After laying her down he began stripping off his clothes.

Their eyes locked again before her gaze ran down his body and she gave a soft gasp. He knew if he didn’t touch her…didn’t taste her…wasn’t inside her soon…he’d explode.

He joined her on the bed and this time her mouth parted even before their lips touched. He gave a low sound of approval, and she answered his kiss, her hands coming up to cling to his shoulders. Willingly, he let her pull him closer, until his bare flesh was pressed against her soft skin, savoring the aching anticipation.

Breaking away, he heard her moan as he got to his knees and launched a trail of kisses over every inch of her body, marking her as his own. She was smooth all over, but never more velvety than between her thighs. He parted her with his tongue and loved her until she arched under him, her hands threading through his hair wildly until she trembled, then shook, then was hit by a shockwave that went on and on.

He reveled in her release but when her climax ebbed, he could wait no longer. He rose up over her and reached for a condom in the bedside drawer. There was no question on his part as to whether he would use one. And she didn’t ask.

With precision, he rolled it on himself while she lay watching. He was aware of nothing around them. He was tuned in solely to her.

And she was glorious.

He entered her slowly, sensation heightening as he sank deep into her warmth. Her gasp reverberated around the room and he took a moment to let her get used to him.

And then he began to move, to thrust in and out to the rhythm of their bodies. But, before too long, the rhythm wasn’t enough. Nothing was enough.

Until she clenched around him and like a flash of white heat he exploded with pleasure.

Olivia woke to find herself curled up against Alex. Her husband.

Her temporary husband, she reminded herself as her eyes flew open, knowing there was nothing temporary about the two of them right now. Her body seemed permanently attached to his, her mind now burned by memories of his lovemaking.

There was no escaping how Alex had made her feel last night. He’d been considerate, yet his need for her had surprised her. It had been so intense, so breathtaking.

It had taken a certain kind of man to do that, keeping it physical, but allowing her some sort of emotional connection that had nothing to do with love.

Her throat went dry. Why was she thinking about love just because she was in a man’s arms? Love belonged to other couples. Love was not part of her agreement with Alex, she reminded herself, as she tried to ease away from him and slide out of bed.

“Don’t move,” he murmured.

She froze.

He rolled to face her, and for a long moment his slate-gray eyes lingered on her face. “Where do you think you’re going?” His voice thickened, the heat of his arousal filling the space between them.

She tried to think. “Er…it’s time to get up,” she said, then immediately felt her cheeks warm.

His lips quirked with male humor. “Are you asking me or telling me?”

She resisted the urge to tease him back. “Telling you.”

He gave her a knowing look. “You were fantastic,” he said softly.

She blinked at him, her heart sinking. “I was?”

His gaze dropped to her naked breasts. “It’s been a while, hasn’t it?” he said in a husky tone.

She didn’t answer. She couldn’t. His words reminded her of Eric, who’d thought nothing of praising her just to take the suspicion away from his affairs.

“Don’t be embarrassed because you don’t sleep around,” Alex continued, his palm sliding over her hip. “I actually like that you don’t.”

“Double standards, Alex?”

His hand stilled, his gaze sharpened. “Not at all. I’ve never been one to sleep around.” He must have seen the disbelief in her eyes because he stiffened. “And I definitely won’t sleep around on my wife.”

An odd thrill raced through her, but she still couldn’t let her anxiety go. “Yes, but women must throw themselves at you all the time.”

His brows drew together, then understanding dawned. “I’m not like your ex-husband, Olivia. Just because women offer doesn’t mean I accept.”

Still, she couldn’t let it be. “Yes, but you must have accepted sometimes.”

Suddenly his eyes hardened. “There’s only room in this bed for two people. You and me. Not your ex. Whatever happened between you two shouldn’t be brought here.”

His words were the mental slap she needed. “Yes, you’re right.”

He held her gaze for a few heartbeats, then his eyes softened. “Let him go, Olivia. Don’t let him spoil what we have.”

Her stomach quivered. “I don’t know that we have anything.”

“You don’t?” He gave a throaty chuckle and the sound slithered down her spine like warm silk. “Maybe I need to refresh your memory.”

Without giving her a chance to argue he slid her across the sheet and pulled her under him. Their bodies touched and that’s all it took for flames to spark between them.

And then he took her higher and higher, out of control, until she went up in smoke, leaving an afterburn that continued to glow long after he’d brought her to fulfillment.

When she next awoke she found herself alone amongst the sheets, all that was left of their night together. Then she moved her legs and winced a little.

All?

No, there was this reminder, she thought, thankful Alex wasn’t there to see her blush. Her body was so pleasurably sore, so very conscious of their lovemaking. She’d used muscles she hadn’t used for years.

Remembering, she threw back the sheet and hurried to the bathroom. If she stayed in bed she’d be thinking about last night, and right now she didn’t need that. Alex might have made her forget all about Eric during their lovemaking, and he might have made her forget herself, but now it was time to keep moving. Otherwise she could be tempted to lie in bed and wait for Alex to come back and join her.

And if he saw her like this then he’d think he held her in the palm of his hands.

No way.

She’d given him a year of her life. She wasn’t giving him her soul, too.

After showering, she went downstairs and found her way to a huge sunroom which ran the full length of one side of the house. A table was set for a late breakfast, but there was still no sign of Alex.

Then Harriet appeared, clicking her tongue. “He’s in the study catching up on some paperwork, though what paperwork there is to do on the first day of his honeymoon is beyond me.” She showed Olivia her seat then started fussing around the table.

As a businesswoman herself, Olivia knew the paperwork never ended, honeymoon or not. And she was rather grateful that Alex was busy, even if she couldn’t say that to the other woman. She was supposed to be a blushing bride, after all.

Oh heck. She was a blushing bride. She just wasn’t a blushing bride in love with her husband.

“That’s okay, Harriet. I’m not feeling neglected.” She gave a smile. “Not with all the attention I’m getting from you.”

Harriet stopped her fussing and smiled at Olivia. “We’re so happy that you married Alex. He needs someone of his own.”

This was news to Olivia.Alex had family—a father, a mother, two brothers. He must have plenty of friends.

Of his own.

Yes, there was a difference, she silently admitted. Apart from her mother she had no one of her own. Oh, she’d thought she’d found that special person when she’d married Eric, and for a short while she’d believed it. She sighed. Ignorance was sometimes bliss.

Of course, she wasn’t ignorant about this marriage. This time she had gone into it with eyes wide open. This was a marriage of convenience. Their work came first and rightly so.

The housekeeper offered to cook up some eggs but Olivia declined and said that cereal was fine. Harriet nodded and left the room.

For the first time Olivia got to look at her surroundings. The room was decorated in soft yellows, pale greens and creamy whites. A fountain stood in one corner, close to wicker chairs and a sofa—a place to sit and relax. Potted plants and paintings filled the room. The large glass dining table she was sitting at was no doubt where Alex had enjoyed many a meal. The view of the ocean from here was unsurpassed.

Just as she finished eating and was drinking her coffee, Alex appeared. She ignored the fact that his sheer presence took her breath away as he walked straight over to her, cradled her face in his hands and brought his lips down to hers.

What a kiss!

Then he eased away, the look in his eyes filled with complete satisfaction before he walked around the other side of the table and sat down.

“Sorry I’m late,” he said casually, as if he hadn’t just made her tremble. “I got caught up on a telephone call.”

His casualness made her elation disappear. No doubt he was used to women being accommodating—to both his kisses and his work demands.

Couldn’t he be a little considerate of her sensibilities? What if she had really been in love with him? His treatment would crush her. It was just as well she was a working woman, and could give as good as she got.

She placed her napkin on the table and stood. “That’s okay, Alex. I’ve got a couple of business calls to make myself.” She started to leave the room.

“Olivia?”

She stopped to look at him. “Yes?”

“The study’s the fourth door on the right.”

Was that a gleam of humor in his eyes? Had his mouth just twitched? She inclined her head. “I’ll find it.”

Once in the study she sat down at the desk, feeling quite proud of herself. Even if he had found her little protest silently amusing, she’d still scored a point.

Then she picked up the telephone, but felt rather silly when she realized she had no one to call. Having cleared the decks at work for the week, and with Lianne insisting she only call under dire circumstances, who else was there to phone?

Her mother.

Felicia wouldn’t think it strange for her daughter to call and see how she was. Only, when she called the Valente estate in Sydney, the housekeeper said her mother had gone out for the day with Alex’s parents.

Sigh. There was no one else she dared call. She knew a lot of people in the States, but they’d think her mad checking in on the day after her marriage.

“Finished your calls yet?”

She looked up to see Alex standing in the study doorway. For a moment she suspected he was being sarcastic, but then she saw that he was serious.

Okay, so he may well have been amused by her antics when she’d left him in the sunroom, but he hadn’t actually been disparaging of her work ethic.

“Yes, I have.”

“Then let’s go for a walk down to the beach.”

All at once she realized he’d changed from trousers and a polo shirt into something much more informal. Her eyes slowly slid down the length of his lean body, now clothed in a white T-shirt and tan-colored board shorts, with leather sandals on his feet. He looked like a sun-worshipping surfer ready to tackle the waves.

“Where’s your surfboard?” she quipped, not really meaning to be funny.

He grinned. “It dumped me years ago.”

Olivia couldn’t help but chuckle even as she gathered her breath. Lord, that grin made him look young and carefree, and she had trouble associating this man with the same CEO she’d married.

Quickly, for something to do, she glanced down at the slacks she was wearing. “Give me five minutes to change into something more casual.”

“Like some help?”

Her heart bumped against her ribs. “No, thanks. I’ve been dressing myself a long time now,” she said, walking toward the door, trying to appear nonchalant.

“It was the undressing I was more interested in,” he teased, moving aside from the doorway, allowing her to pass him.

She hid a smile, otherwise he might think she was encouraging him to come up to the bedroom and make love to her.

She wasn’t.

No, definitely not.

“I’ll meet you on the front veranda in five minutes,” she heard him say as she headed for the stairs.

“Fine.”

Olivia deliberately took ten minutes to change into Bermuda shorts and a sleeveless top. Then she applied sunscreen to her exposed areas, and grabbed her sunglasses from her purse and put them on.

“That was a long five minutes,” Alex said, his own sunglasses not hiding his scowl as she pushed open the front screen door and stepped out onto the veranda.

“I didn’t know we were clock-watching.”

“We’re not.” He glanced at his Rolex, then grimaced. “Habit.” Taking off the watch, he placed it on the table behind him. “Now, let’s go get some fresh air.” He held out his hand.

For some reason she found herself hesitating.

“Harriet’s watching from the window,” he drawled.

“She is?” She went to turn around but didn’t get a chance to look before he stepped forward and slipped his hand around hers, tugging her down the front steps and through the short grass to the side of the house. Hand in hand they started walking along a dirt path leading to the beach.

He slanted her a mocking smile. “See, we actually look like lovers now.”

“Oh, but—”

“What? We’re not lovers?” He stopped and faced her. “Then who was that gorgeous woman in my arms last night?” Suddenly his smile disappeared, his dark glasses hiding his eyes but not the huskiness in his voice.

She could feel her cheeks warm. “Maybe she was a dream?”

“Oh yeah,” he murmured. “She was that.”

Her heart flipped over. “Alex, I—” All at once the ocean breeze picked up and swirled around them like a small whirlwind, snapping her out of the moment. “Um…that breeze is pretty strong,” she said quickly, then turned and continued to walk, surprised when he let her drop her hand from his. She half expected he would tug her back around to face him, pull her up close and…

He fell into step beside her, not touching her now. “Yes, that breeze is good for clearing out the cobwebs,” was all he said.

She ignored a stab of disappointment, but it was her own fault. She could have chosen to stay where she was and let him kiss her. Yet she knew why she hadn’t. Despite them being lovers, she wasn’t in love with him. For her to initiate making love with him would be the equivalent of walking down the main street of Sydney naked. She’d feel totally exposed.

Ahead, the path looped over a small sand dune and down to a sun-kissed beach, scattered with couples lying on towels or parents playing in the shallows with their children. An older man jogged along the water’s edge. A couple of surfboard riders bobbed out in the sea, their wait for larger waves appearing to be in vain today.

She sighed in appreciation. “It’s beautiful.”

“Yes.”

She kicked off her sandals, enjoying the feel of soft sand trickling through her toes. “It’s been ages since I walked along a beach.”

He stepped out of his own sandals. “Then what are we waiting for?” When she went to pick up her sandals, he instructed, “Leave them. We’ll get them on our way back.”

She blinked in surprise. “But won’t someone steal them?”

He gave a dismissive shrug. “If they’re that desperate then they’re welcome to them.”

“Oh.” She shrugged. “Well, I guess a man like you doesn’t need to worry about the cost of things.”

A muscle tightened at the edge of his jaw. “A man like me?”

She hesitated, realizing she’d said the wrong thing. “It’s just that I noticed you left your Rolex back on the veranda.”

“So?”

No getting around it now. “Admit it, Alex. You were born with a silver spoon in your mouth. You take some things for granted.”

“I seem to remember you’ve got one of those silver spoons, too.”

“Yes,” she admitted slowly, “but I was raised frugally by my grandmother.” And while Olivia wouldn’t call herself in the least frugal, she still couldn’t be so cavalier about things like leaving expensive watches out in the open, or even sandals on the beach.

A mask came down over his face. “I keep what’s important.”

Chapter Five

Olivia stood and watched Alex turn and walk along the sand. His words had been steely and totally no-nonsense—the tough CEO coming to the fore. The hard-hitting man was such a part of him. A woman would be incredibly lucky to have him love her. To be so fiercely protected by him. And he would be fiercely protective. She knew that instinctively.

He turned back to her. “Coming?”

His words jarred her from her thoughts and she fell into step beside him. She didn’t want to think about Alex and another woman, so she changed the subject to try to break any tension between them. “Do you come here often?”

A moment crept by before he glanced at her from behind his sunglasses. “I usually make it for Christmas with the family. It’s good to get away from the city and the December heat.”

She nodded. “Sounds wonderful.” Oh, how she remembered those long, hot summer Christmases. Her mother had always come home to spend the holidays with her and Nanna and they’d had a great time as a family. Then Nanna had died and the last few years she and Felicia had spent Christmas in LA, and nothing had been quite the same. She supposed that was all a part of growing older.

“You’ll get to find out yourself this year, Olivia. Christmas is only a couple of months away.”

His words startled her. “But I usually spend Christmas with my mother.”

“We’ll invite her here then.” It was more an order than a suggestion.

“But—”

“It would look odd if you take off for the States and leave your new husband here during the festive season,” he pointed out.

“You could always come to LA,” she said, not even sure she wanted him there, though she knew it would seem strange without him. Good Lord, and she’d only been married a day.

“No.” His voice was firm, his chin stubborn. “My parents will be here and my two brothers. I won’t break family tradition.”

Something in his tone roused her curiosity. This man was deeper than she’d first thought. And much more family-oriented than he let on. No wonder his father had been able to blackmail his son into getting married.

Marriage to a man like this would have been a dream come true for her if it had been a real marriage. A permanent marriage. She sighed. It was just as well it wasn’t a real marriage because then he’d want a real family with her and—

Suddenly he stopped, put his hand on her arm and spun her toward him. She was in his arms before she knew it, his lips against hers, taking her by surprise with a kiss that made her forget they were on a beach for all to see. All that mattered was his kiss. And the next.

He eventually pulled back, but she was unable to read his eyes. And that was the trouble with sunglasses. They hid his eyes as well as her own.

She cleared her throat. “Um…what was that for?”

“Someone’s taking pictures of us. I wanted to give him something worthwhile to report.”

Her heart thudded to a stop. “How nice.”

“I thought so,” he said, not seeming to notice her sarcasm as he picked up her hand in a possessive manner and began walking her along the shore, as though she was his girl and he was showing the world exactly that.

She hid her disappointment. “Are we still being followed?” she asked for something to say, trying to find her mental balance, pretending she didn’t care about being used for publicity purposes while on their honeymoon.

Then she winced inwardly. What was the matter with her? Their whole marriage was going to be one big publicity event. Could she really blame Alex for taking advantage of that right now?

“No, I can’t see him. Anyway, forget it for now. He’s going to take our picture whether we want him to or not.”

He was right and after another hundred yards she began to relax again. The sound of the water lapping against the shore and the feel of the breeze skimming her cheeks eased her concerns considerably. How could she not relax? This was a perfect setting; it would help even the most stressed person to unwind.

Just then the sun went behind a frothy white cloud, and for a few seconds the world was darkened then just as quickly thrown back into a shower of sunlight. Wanting to capture the scene in her mind, she stopped and whipped off her sunglasses to better appreciate the brighter sunshine and rich colors.

Her fingers itched. “Ooh, the light and colors are just marvelous. I’ll have to bring my sketchbook down here and capture it all in a design.”

He took off his own dark glasses, his gaze sweeping the beach in front of them, as if looking at it through her eyes. Then he looked at her. “I’d like to watch you design something.”

She blushed with pleasure. “I’ve had an idea for some time to put an Australian mark on an international design. This may be just what I’ve been looking for.”

“You’re quite a talent, aren’t you?” he said, his eyes full of admiration.

Her heart skipped a beat but she managed a short chuckle. “I haven’t designed it yet.”

“I have every confidence it will be a winner.”

She quickly placed her sunglasses back on to hide her eyes, not wanting him to see she was almost made shy by his praise. “Thank you,” she murmured.

Heavens, she was used to being held in high regard by the rich and powerful. She’d designed clothes for some of the most famous people in the world. Yet this man—her husband—made her self-conscious when he praised her talents?

Crazy.

He put his sunglasses on. “Are you ready to go back? I need to get some more work done, I’m afraid.”

She nodded. “Okay, but I think I’ll grab a sketchbook and come back down while you’re working.”

“No.”

She blinked at his unmistakable air of command. Was she hearing right? “Pardon?”

“I don’t want you coming down here by yourself. You could get harassed and I won’t be around to help.”

“The media are not out in force, Alex. There’s only the one guy who—” Suddenly she caught a movement out of the corner of her eye and she spun toward it. Just as quickly she twisted back toward Alex. “That’s not a reporter,” she hissed of the photographer a couple of yards away. “He’s only a kid.”

“He’s a teenager and now he’s just run off, no doubt looking to sell the photographs to the highest bidder.” Alex’s mouth flattened. “I meant what I said, Olivia. Don’t come down here by yourself.”

She lifted her chin. “You’re blowing things out of proportion.”

“Humor me.”

“I’d rather strangle you.”

He arched a brow but his lips quirked. “That’s a bit drastic, don’t you think?”

“Look, I’m not used to sitting around all day doing nothing.”

“Then it’s about time you did. We have a swimming pool up at the house. Why not laze around it for a couple of hours? And I’ll take you into town for dinner tonight.”

Her pulse leaped at the thought of dinner with him, despite herself. “I’m not a child to be rewarded for keeping out of your way while you’re working.” Her chin set stubbornly. “As a matter of fact I still have some work to do of my own,” she fibbed. “I wasn’t going to work on our honeymoon but…” she paused deliberately “…if you’re working then I may as well, too.”

He tensed, a muscle starting to tick in his jaw. “Sorry about that. My father has been easing off on the work lately and that’s put more pressure on me.”

“Oh.” Something about his words clutched at her heart. Perhaps it was the rough edge of emotion in his voice that made her soften toward him. “Alex, I understand.” She still didn’t like being told what to do, but she’d cut him a break this time.

He inclined his head, his mouth not as tight as before, his shoulders not as tense. “Good.”

Then he cupped her elbow and they walked back up the beach. Surprisingly their sandals were still where they’d left them, but she didn’t look at Alex nor did she say a word as they stepped into them and made their way up to the house.

Once there, he took off for the study, reading through a handful of phone messages, already forgetting that she even existed. Olivia watched him go, a silly sense of loneliness filling her. She was never lonely.

It must be because she felt suddenly tired, she decided, and went up to the bedroom to take a shower to wash off the sand.

When she came out, dressed in her silk bathrobe, the bed looked so very inviting. Perhaps if she lay down for just a few minutes…

She woke to find herself covered with a light blanket, the bedside clock showing midafternoon. Feeling guilty, she threw back the blanket, got dressed in white capri pants and a cherry-red top and hurried downstairs. Alex was still in the study, but he put his pen down when he saw her in the doorway.

“I’m sorry,” she said. “I didn’t mean to fall asleep for so long. It was supposed to be a quick nap.”

“No need to apologize. You must have needed it.” His gaze traveled down her body, his eyes darkening at every lowering inch. “I was tempted to join you,” he murmured, his raspy voice sending a frisson of excitement racing through her.

She moistened her lips. “I thought Harriet might have covered me up.”

She hoped.

She prayed.

A faint smile curved the edges of his mouth. “No, it was me.”

She gave an inner gasp. Her bathrobe would have covered her, but the fabric was thin…

“By the way, Olivia, you don’t snore,” he said, his voice silky smooth.

She felt the flush of heat enter her cheeks. “That’s good to know.” It was time to get out of here. “Um, I missed lunch so I might go get a snack.” She half expected he’d want to join her.

But his eyes turned businesslike. “Don’t forget I’m taking you to dinner in town. Let’s make it seven.”

“I’ll be ready.”

He nodded and picked up his pen. “You’d better go get something to eat.”

Before she’d even stepped away to head toward the kitchen, Olivia heard the preoccupation in his voice and knew it wasn’t with her.

She sighed as that strange sense of loneliness filled her again, but she quickly pushed it aside. She had too much time on her hands right now, that’s all. It wasn’t that she was feeling like a neglected bride.

Not at all.

Alex sat back in his chair after Olivia left and tried to focus on his work again, but she unsettled him and he wasn’t sure he liked being unsettled. Never before had he ever let a woman distract him from his work. He was usually able to keep the two things separate. He liked it that way.

Of course, he’d never been married before.

Never had a woman living with him.

Never had a woman on his family turf.

The family’s Christmases had always been here at Villa Valente with his parents and his two brothers and sometimes various relatives, but neither he nor his brothers had brought their girlfriends here. None of them would ever give a woman that false sense of power over them.

Yet having Olivia here now wasn’t about giving her the wrong impression. Olivia already knew the score. This year they would be together, and next year they wouldn’t be, and that was the way they both liked it.

And the way they both wanted it.

It had to be that way.

For now he’d enjoy the benefits of having a beautiful woman in his life—and in his bed. Making love to Olivia last night for the first time had been amazing. She’d been married before so he hadn’t expected to be her teacher, yet there had been an innocence about her, as though he was the first lover to give her more than he took.

And in the giving he’d been given back far more than he’d ever expected. She’d turned into a more than willing pupil. He hadn’t been joking when he’d said she’d been a dream to make love to.

And this afternoon when she’d been sleeping…if he hadn’t known she was so exhausted he’d have woken her up with a kiss to that gorgeous mouth of hers. And then he’d have kissed her all over before making her his again.

Hell, just thinking about it sent the blood pounding to his groin but he told himself that waiting would make it all the sweeter. Later this evening he would wine and dine her, then make love to her over and over.

But that was easier said than done when he saw her later coming down the stairs dressed in a short brandy-colored dress that showed off her gorgeous curves and long slim legs. Its off-the-shoulder design highlighted a tanned collarbone that deserved to be kissed.

She was exquisite.

He wished now that he’d stayed in their bedroom and watched her dress, smoothing silk stockings up along her legs. Of course if he’d stayed they’d still be in the bedroom.

In bed.

And he’d be inside her.

“I’m going to make love to you later,” he said huskily as she approached him. “You know that, don’t you?”

A becoming flush stained her cheeks. “So you’re not sick of me yet?” she joked.

He frowned. Where had that come from? Her ex?

“No way, sweetheart,” he growled, then put his hand under her chin and gave her a hard kiss, more than satisfied by the hint of pleasure he saw in her eyes when he pulled back. “Come on. Let’s get out of here.” He cupped her elbow and led her out to one of his father’s Mercedes. If they didn’t go to dinner soon, they’d never get there.

Fifteen minutes later, they were sitting in an intimate corner of the best restaurant in town and Alex was studying the blond beauty in front of him. He could have been sitting amongst the Miss World contestants and none of them would hold a candle to Olivia.

Her eyelids flickered. “Stop staring, Alex,” she said in a throaty voice.

“Why?”

She shot him a wry look. “Okay, let’s change the subject. Tell me about your Italian background.”

“Why?”

Her gorgeous lips curved upward. “Because I’ve just realized I’ve never asked you before. I mean, I know what I’ve read in the papers and that you’reAustralian-born, but that’s about all I know about you.”

He leaned back in his chair, pleased she was interested enough to ask. “What do you want to know?”

“Can you speak Italian, for one thing? You never do.”

“My grandparents came out from Italy after the war and they taught me when I was growing up, but I prefer to speak Australian.” He’d loved his grandparents but they were gone now and he had no interest in speaking Italian with his father.

“And your father?” she said, honing in like a dentist’s drill on a sore tooth. “He speaks fluent Italian, doesn’t he? Was he born in Italy?”

Alex’s brows drew together. “I thought this was about me, not my father.”

She cooled a little. “I’m only trying to understand the man I married.”

“Don’t,” he snapped, then grimaced at the withdrawal on her face. He sighed. “Look, my father was twelve when he came here. Eventually he made his millions and later married my mother when he was around thirty. She was Australian and she died when I was little. That’s it.”

Her eyes softened and filled with sympathy. “I’m sorry.”

His stomach knotted. “Yeah, so am I.”

The only vague memory he had of his mother was of sitting on her knee. He also had a couple of old photographs. She’d been raised by an elderly aunt so he hadn’t even been able to ask her family about her. Cesare Valente certainly hadn’t wanted to talk about her.

The only reason he’d known why he was called Alexander and not the Italian form, Alessandro, was because Isabel had told him his own mother had insisted on it. Surprisingly, Cesare had kept that pattern when Nick and Matt were born. In some corner of Alex’s heart, he liked to think his father had done it out of respect for his first wife. On the other hand, perhaps that was just foolish thinking.

“What about your grandparents, Alex?” Olivia asked, drawing him from his thoughts. “They’re not still alive, are they? I didn’t see them at the wedding, but no one has mentioned them.”

“They died years ago after a long and happy marriage.” He gave a harsh laugh. “I can’t say the same for my father,” he said, thinking about his father’s three marriages.

She tilted her head. “But Cesare has been married to Isabel for a long time now. They seem very happy.”

He scowled. “They are,” he grudgingly admitted. “I guess I have to give him credit for that.”

She nodded. “It’s probably part of the reason he wanted to see you married.” Then she hesitated, as if she wasn’t sure whether to say something or not. “He cares for you, Alex. You may not be able to see it, but I can.”

“Perhaps.” He wondered what she’d think if he told her his father wanted him to have an heir, too. But why mention something that wasn’t necessary? In six months time Cesare would be on his way to retirement, if not before. He wouldn’t be able to dictate to any of his sons after that.

The arrival of the waiter to deliver their drinks gave Alex the chance to end the discussion, but as he watched Olivia smile her thanks at the young man, he felt a jolt inside his chest. If he had to have someone have his child, she would be the perfect choice.

He pushed that thought aside. “Now it’s your turn. Tell me about your ex-husband,” he said, watching her stiffen. He knew what the papers had said about the other man, but he wanted to hear Olivia’s version of it all.

She held his gaze. “I met Eric when I was just starting out as a designer. I was working in Paris and he was this really handsome, debonair Englishman. I’d never met anyone like him before.” A derisive sound emerged from her throat. “I don’t want to meet anyone like him again.”

“He cheated on you.” It was a statement, not a question.

Her expression clouded. “Yes. He thought I had a personal fortune because of my mother. When he discovered that she wasn’t supporting me as much as he thought, he dumped me for a woman who had more money.”

Anger rippled through Alex. “The bastard.”

She inclined her head. “Thanks. I know it sounds horrible, but by that stage I was glad to get rid of him.”

“No, what sounds horrible is him using you the way he did.”

“Thank you,” she whispered. She looked hesitant, then said, “He’s the main reason I have trouble trusting people these days.”

Alex knew that took a lot to admit. “Yet, as a stranger, you trusted me enough to marry me.”

Her tight expression relaxed into a smile. “Yeah, go figure.”

Something warmed inside him, but before he could savor the moment, their meal arrived. The food was superb and afterward they strolled along the promenade. He couldn’t wait to get her home and make love to her.

And when they finally made it to their bedroom and he pulled her into his arms, he felt her tremble from head to toe in a way that none of his other lovers ever had. It made him feel special, as though he was the only man on earth who could fulfill her needs.

And that affected him more than anything.

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