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The CEO Takes a Wife / The Throw-Away Bride: The CEO Takes a Wife / The Throw-Away Bride
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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The CEO Takes a Wife by Maxine Sullivan
&
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
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.
