Propositioned By The Tycoon: Mr Strictly Business / Bought: His Temporary Fiancée / A Win-Win Proposition

“No!” She wriggled from his hold and took several stumbling steps backward. “This isn’t happening.”

“It’s too late, Catherine. It already happened.”

He saw comprehension burn in her eyes. He also caught an infuriated acknowledgment that their feelings for each other weren’t anywhere near as dead as she claimed, though if he didn’t miss his guess, that fury was aimed more at herself than at him. She closed her eyes, effectively shutting him out.

“Damn,” she whispered.

“Does that kiss prove my point, or is another demonstration necessary?”

She yanked at the hem of her suit jacket and with an exclamation of annoyance, shoved button through hole where it had come undone. Then she tugged at her skirt and smoothed her hair. What he’d ruffled, she swiftly unruffled. Then she regarded him with undisguised irritation. “You’ve made your point,” she retorted. He could only imagine the amount of effort it took to look at him. “You do realize that I believed it was over between us, or I’d never have approached you.”

“That’s rather naive of you since there’s not a chance in hell this will ever be over between us, sweetheart.”

Her chin shot up. “There shouldn’t have been anything left. I figured at most we’d have to kick over some of the ashes just to satisfy our morbid curiosity. I didn’t expect to find any lingering embers.”

“I don’t doubt that for a minute.”

“This—” She waved an all-encompassing hand to indicate him, herself, and the kiss that still heated their lips. “None of it changes my mind about our relationship. I’m not coming back home.”

Home. The slip hung in the air for a timeless instant. He didn’t reply. He simply smiled knowingly.

Swearing beneath her breath, she shot toward the couch and gathered up the file she’d given him and stuffed it inside her briefcase. Tossing the strap of her purse over one shoulder, she spun around to face him. He deliberately stood between her and the door. Not that that stopped her.

“I’m leaving,” she warned. “And I’m going around you, through you or over your dead body. But I am going.”

“And I’m going to make certain that doesn’t happen. Oh, not today,” he reassured her at her unmistakable flare of alarm. “But very soon I’m going to be around you, through you and—trust me—your body will be far from dead when I’m over it.” He stepped to one side. “When you change your mind about needing my help with Elegant Events, you know where to find me.”

She crossed the room, circling just out of reach as she headed for the door. Her hand closed over the knob, and then she hesitated. “Why, Gabe?” she asked quietly, throwing the question over her shoulder. “Why the conditions?”

“The truth?”

“If you don’t mind.”

The words escaped in a harsh undertone, the brutal honesty making them all the more devastating in their delivery. “Not a night passes that I don’t ache for you, Cate. Not a morning dawns that I don’t reach for you. I want the pain to end. The next time I reach out, I want you there.”

Chapter Two

It took every ounce of self-possession for Catherine to exit Gabe’s office without it looking as though she were attempting to escape the fiery pits of hell. Worse, she’d completely forgotten about Roxanne Bodine, aka Satan’s handmaiden, whose sharp black eyes made note of the distress Catherine wasn’t quick enough to conceal. A mocking smile slid across sharply flamboyant features.

“Not the reunion you were hoping for?” Roxanne asked in a honeyed voice that contained just a whiff of a southern drawl. “If you’d bothered to ask, I could have warned that you were wasting your time. You let that fish slip off your hook nearly two years ago, and he’s none too eager to slip back on again.”

“Maybe you should tell him that,” Catherine retorted, then wanted to kick herself for revealing so much.

Roxanne could deliver taunts with needle-sharp precision. But she wasn’t the type of woman who took them well. Nor did she appreciate the implication that Gabe might be interested in getting back together with the rival she’d worked so hard to rid herself of.

“Some women don’t understand the concept of making a graceful exit.” Roxanne stood and stretched a figure as full and lush as Catherine’s was petite and fine-boned. She settled on the corner of her desk with all the lazy grace of a true feline. Then she proceeded to sharpen her claws on the nearest available target, in this case, Catherine. “Seems to me you’d have more pride than to come crawling back. You’re just asking to get kicked to the curb again.”

All her life Catherine had chosen discretion over a more overt approach. She’d been the good girl. Quiet. Polite. Turning the other cheek when required. But enough was enough. She didn’t have anything to lose anymore. “I don’t know how I’d survive without you looking out for my welfare, Roxanne,” Catherine said with a sunny smile. “Maybe that’s your problem. Maybe instead of looking out for me, you should be looking out for yourself.”

“Oh, don’t trouble yourself on my account. I’m like a cat,” she said, stating the all-too obvious. “I’ve been blessed with nine lives and I have a knack for landing on my feet.”

Catherine planted a hand on a trim hip. “And yet here you are still sitting behind a desk…like an alley cat meowing at the back door waiting to be let in. I’d have thought with me out of the way, you’d have found a way in by now. I guess that’s one door you can’t quite slink through.”

Fury turned Roxanne’s face a deadly shade of white while two patches of harsh red streaked across her sharp cheekbones. “You think I made your life a misery before? Try me now. This is my turf, and I’ll do whatever necessary to defend it.”

Catherine made a sweeping gesture. “Go right ahead. But while you’re so busy staking out your territory, maybe you should consider one small detail that you seem to have overlooked.”

That stopped her. “I haven’t overlooked a thing,” Roxanne insisted, just a shade too late.

“No? How about this. You know your boss. When he wants something, he doesn’t let anything stand in his way. Gabe wants, Gabe takes.” Catherine allowed that to sink in before continuing. “You’ve worked for him for…what? Two and a half years? Three? And yet you’ve never been taken. I’m willing to bet you can’t even get him to sample the goods. If he hasn’t been tempted in all that time, what makes you think he ever will?”

She didn’t wait for a response. If there was one thing she’d learned since opening Elegant Events, it was when to pack up your knives and leave. Without another word, she swung around and headed for the elevators. The instant she stepped into the car, she checked her back. To her relief she didn’t find any of those knives sticking out of it.

Yet.

“So, fill me in on every detail. How did it go?” Dina Piretti asked eagerly. “You didn’t have to tell him about me, did you?”

Catherine set down her briefcase just inside the front door and shot Gabe’s mother an uneasy glance. “No, he still hasn’t discovered that you’re my partner,” she reassured her.

Dina released a sigh. “I hear a ‘but’ in there.”

“But it didn’t go well,” Catherine confessed. “I’m afraid we’re on our own. We’ll either have to figure out where the problem is ourselves, or we’ll have to hire an outside consultant to advise us. A consultant other than your son.”

Dina stared in patent disbelief. “No,” she stammered. “You must have misunderstood. I can’t believe Gabriel refused to help you. Not you.”

Catherine hesitated. She had two choices. She could lie, something she not only hated, but didn’t do well. Or she could tell Gabe’s mother what her precious firstborn had demanded in exchange for his help. Neither option held any appeal.

“I need a drink,” she announced. Maybe while they fixed a pot of coffee, some stroke of brilliance would come to her and she’d figure out a third option.“ And then we’d better get to work. The Marconi birthday party is tonight and I have a dozen phone calls I need you to make while I head over there and supervise the setup.”

Dina led the way to her kitchen, though she hardly needed to considering the two women spent a good deal of their workday together in its comfortable confines. When they’d first conceived Elegant Events it had been right here, in Dina’s Queen Anne home, sitting at her generously sized bleached oak kitchen table. Since then, they’d filled the emptiness of the huge house by converting several of the rooms into an office suite, one that had so far escaped Gabe’s notice. The division of labor worked to each of their strengths. Catherine manned the front lines, while Dina ran the business end of things. Right now the older woman wore her shrewdest and most businesslike expression.

“You’re being evasive, Catherine. That’s not like you. Tell me what went wrong. Oh, wait. I’ll bet I can guess.” A broad smile flashed, one identical to Gabe’s. When they’d first started working together that smile had caused Catherine untold pain. Even now it stirred a twinge that wouldn’t be denied. “Gabriel put those patented Piretti moves on you, didn’t he?”

Catherine deliberately turned her back on her partner. “One or two,” she admitted. Dumping fresh coffee beans into the grinder, she switched it on, relieved that the noise of the machine made conversation impossible.

The instant the machine shut off, Dina jumped in. “It was just the same with his father. I never could resist him.” A hint of sorrow appeared in her eyes and cut faint grooves beside her mouth. Not that it detracted from her startling beauty, a beauty she’d managed to pass on to her son, if in a slightly more masculine form. “Funny how much I can still miss him after all this time.”

Catherine abandoned the coffee and wrapped her arms around Dina. “From everything you and Gabe have told me, he was an incredible man. I only wish I could have met him.”

“He’d have adored you.” Dina pulled back and forced a smile. “You’ve evaded answering me long enough. What happened? Why did Gabriel refuse to help?”

“He didn’t refuse,” Catherine told her. “He just put a price on his help that I’m unwilling to pay.”

“Ah.” Understanding dawned. “He wanted to get back together with you, didn’t he?”

“How did you…?” Catherine’s eyes narrowed. “Did you speak to him before I went over there?”

“I haven’t spoken to Gabriel about you in months. I haven’t spoken to him at all in the past three days,” Dina insisted. She crossed to the coffee machine and made short work of starting the brewing process before turning to face Catherine. “I am, however, a woman, and I know my son. He’s still in love with you.”

No, not love, Catherine almost said. Lust, maybe. But he’d never truly been in love with her. Not that she could explain any of that to Dina. “He said that he’d only help if I moved back in with him.”

“Naturally, you refused.”

“Naturally.”

“Because you don’t have feelings for him anymore, either.”

Catherine didn’t dare answer that one. Instead, she regarded Dina with troubled eyes. “I know you’ve always hoped that we’d work out our differences, but that’s not going to happen. You understand that, don’t you?”

It was Dina’s turn to look troubled. “I’ve never wanted to push for answers you weren’t ready to give. I gather something went horribly wrong between you. You were so ill during those early weeks after the two of you broke up that I didn’t have the heart to ask. But I always thought that you and Gabriel would work it out. You were so right together. So in love.” She swept that aside with a wave of her hand. “Never mind. You were absolutely right to refuse him. It was quite rude of Gabriel to put conditions on his help.”

Catherine smiled in relief. “You’re not upset?”

“I’m disappointed.” She poured them both a cup of freshly brewed coffee, putting an end to the subject. “Why don’t we forget about all that for now and get down to business? I suggest we double—and triple-check that everything’s in place for tonight’s affair. We can’t afford any errors.”

No question about that. Between their financial woes and the contracts they’d lost, there was added urgency on getting every event perfect. The next several hours flew by. Much to Catherine’s relief, the intensity of the work didn’t allow for thoughts of Gabe to intrude. Every ounce of concentration and effort went into putting the finishing touches on the Marconi event. More than ever she needed tonight to be a stunning success, for Natalie Marconi to rave about Elegant Events to all of her closest friends—and more importantly, her husband’s business contacts.

By nine that night the party was in full swing, and Catherine worked behind the scenes, keeping everything running with smooth efficiency, while remaining as unobtrusive as possible. Having a half dozen walkie-talkies that kept all the various stations in touch with each other certainly helped with speed and communication, not to mention coordinating the progress of the party. But she always faced last-minute glitches, and tonight proved no exception.

This time around the band showed up late and the caterers underestimated the amount of champagne necessary to fill the flutes of the several hundred people who’d come to toast the Marconi patriarch. Both problems were corrected before anyone noticed, but it took some fast maneuvering, a flurry of phone calls and an exhausting combination of threats and pleas.

Catherine paused by the doorway leading outside to the staging area and, for what seemed like the fiftieth time that night, examined the checklist she’d posted there. Every aspect of the evening was listed and carefully initialed by the responsible party once it had been dealt with. She’d found the list a lifesaver on more than one occasion since it kept everyone up to date on the progress of the event, and ensured accountability. Only a few boxes remained blank. The birthday cake. A few catering chores. And, of course, the post-party cleanup.

Satisfied, she had started toward the kitchen to speak with the caterers about the cake when she felt a telltale prickle along her spine. She turned, not the least surprised to discover Gabe lounging in the doorway behind her.

For a split second, all she could do was stand and stare. That’s how it had been the first time she’d seen him, too. One look stole every last ounce of sense and sensibility. He stood a full six feet two inches, with mile-wide shoulders, topping a powerful, toned body. He’d encased all that potent masculinity in formal wear, which turned his body into a lethal weapon that no woman had a chance of resisting. But it was far worse than that. Gabe Piretti also possessed the striking features of an angel coupled with the burning cobalt-blue eyes of a devil. And right now he had those predatory eyes fixed on her.

It wasn’t just the raw, physical impact of the man, Catherine was forced to admit. Perhaps for some women that would be sufficient. Maybe his looks, along with the embarrassing number of digits that graced his bank account, would satisfy. But she’d always wanted something else in the man she chose as her own. She wanted a heart and a mind that worked in sync with hers. For a brief time, she’d found that with Gabe. At least, she had until he made it clear that money was his god, and what she had to offer was only icing to fill in the cracks of his multilayered cake.

Maybe he hadn’t caught her helpless reaction to his appearance, though why she even bothered to indulge in such pointless speculation, she didn’t know. One glimpse of the amusement gleaming in his eyes put paid to that forlorn hope. How could she have forgotten? Gabe could read people at a single glance. It was part of what made him such a good deal-broker. No one pulled anything over on him.

Except Roxanne.

“Should I even bother to ask what you’re doing here?” she asked.

A half smile eased across his mouth. “I was invited.”

“Of course.” She didn’t doubt that for a minute. “You neglected to mention it when I saw you this morning.”

He lifted a shoulder in a careless shrug. “Must have slipped my mind.” His attention switched to her mouth. “I believe I was preoccupied with more important matters at the time.”

“Speaking of more important matters, I have to work right now. So if you’ll excuse me…” She started to press past him, but he shifted just enough to make it awkward. “Gabe, please,” she whispered. “This is a really bad idea.”

“I’m afraid I have to disagree with you about that.” When she made another move to pass him, he pressed her against the wall, locking her in place. Tucking a loosened curl of hair behind her ear, he allowed his fingers to drift from the curve of her cheek to her mouth. And there, he lingered. “Just give me one more minute.”

“Forget it, Gabe. I can’t be caught necking with the guests.”

“I just want to talk to you. You can spare a minute to talk, can’t you?”

One minute. Sixty seconds of sheer heaven. She couldn’t resist the temptation, not when those devil’s eyes promised such decadent delight. “You can have thirty seconds. But no kissing the help,” she warned.

His smile came slow and potent. “You look stunning tonight. That shade of bronze turns your eyes to pure gold.”

It took her precious seconds to find her voice and respond with anything approaching normalcy. “I look quietly elegant,” she corrected in far too husky a voice. “I work hard at looking quietly elegant so that I fit in with my surroundings without standing out.”

He regarded her in amusement. “I gather standing out would be inappropriate.”

“It would,” she assured him.

Just another few seconds and then she’d step away from him. She’d step away and force her mind back to business. Just another moment to feel the powerful press of his body against hers. Togather up his unique scent and allow it to seep into her lungs. To lower her guard just this one time and surrender to the stir of memories, memories of what once was and what could have been, if only…

She snatched a deep breath, forcing herself to address the mundane and irreverent. With luck it would help her regain her sanity, something she’d clearly lost. “I don’t want to wear something too flashy, any more than I want to wear clothing too casual for the occasion. I want the attention on the event and the participants, not on me.”

“I can see your dilemma.” He continued to stand close, so close that she could feel the softness of his breath against her skin. “There’s only one small problem with your scenario.”

“Which is?” she managed to ask.

“You could be in a burlap sack and you’d still outshine every woman here.”

She shouldn’t allow his flattery to affect her. And maybe she wouldn’t have if she hadn’t witnessed the flare of passion in his eyes and heard the ring of sincerity in his voice. She weakened, just for an instant, her body and heart softening. Yielding.

It was all the invitation he needed. He leaned into her, pressing her against the wall. And then he consumed her. If she thought the kiss they’d shared earlier had threatened to overwhelm her, it was nothing compared to this one. He knew just how to touch her to decimate every last ounce of control. He breached her defenses and slipped inside with an ease that shook her to the core.

And in that moment, he turned her world upside down.

She heard a harsh groan and couldn’t tell if it emanated from his throat or hers. All she knew was that it sounded primal and desperate. She’d gone without this for too long, she was forced to concede. She’d been stripped of something she hadn’t even realized she needed. He was her air. Her heartbeat. Her sustenance and her reason for being. How had she survived all this time without him?

Unable to help herself, she wrapped herself around him and gave. And then she gave more, putting all the longing and hope and despair into that one single kiss. She had no idea how long they stood there, their breath coming in urgent pants, hands groping, bodies pressing.

Perhaps she’d never have surfaced if she hadn’t suddenly felt a tingling awareness that they were being watched. Shoving at his shoulders, she pushed him back, or tried to, for all the good it did her. The man was as immovable as an oak, and because of his height, he blocked her view of whomever had witnessed their embrace. All she caught was a fleeting glimpse of red.

“Playtime’s over,” she managed to say.

It took him a minute to release her and another one after that for her to recover her equilibrium and attempt to walk down the hallway. Thank God she’d worn sensible shoes. If she’d tried to maneuver on her usual heels, her shaky legs would have pitched her straight onto her backside. He must have picked up on the results of his handiwork because his rumble of laughter followed her down the hallway, as did he.

“Seriously, I need to work, Gabe,” she said, attempting to dismiss him. She gave her walkie-talkie a cursory check to make sure she hadn’t accidentally bumped the volume knob. To her relief, she saw that it was on and working just fine.

“I won’t get in your way. I have a legitimate reason for following you.”

“Which is?”

“I need to watch how your run your business. Just in case.”

“Just in case…what?” she asked distractedly.

“Just in case you change your mind and ask for my help.”

She stopped dead in her tracks and faced him. “That isn’t going to happen. I can’t meet your price.” She shook her head. “Correction. I won’t meet it.”

He only had to lift a single eyebrow for her to consider what had happened just moments ago, and realize that her claim rang a little hollow. “Time will tell,” he limited himself to saying.

She waved him aside with an impatient hand and looked around, not sure where she was or how she’d gotten there. What the hell had she been going to do when he’d interrupted her? She was utterly clueless. With an irritated sigh, she turned on her heel and headed back the way she’d come. Giving the checklist another cursory glance, she stepped outside. She’d do a quick walk-through and inspect each of the various stations. Then she’d touch bases with the caterers—She snapped her fingers. The caterers. That’s where she’d intended to go. She needed to coordinate the presentation of the cake.

She spared Gabe a brief glance. If she turned around yet again, she’d confirm how thoroughly he’d rattled her, which would never do. No point in giving him that much of an advantage. Instead, she’d keep moving forward and circle back once she’d ditched him. She crossed the beautifully manicured lawn toward Lake Washington, pausing at the demarcation between grass and imported white sand. She took a moment to gaze out across the dark water. And all the while a painful awareness surged through her.

“You’ve done an incredible job, Catherine,” Gabe said quietly. “The gondolas are a particularly special touch. I’m sure it reminds Alessandro of his home in Italy.”

Catherine smiled at the sight of the distinctive boats and the gondoliers manning them, all of whom were decked out in their traditional garb of black slacks, black-and-white-striped shirts and beribboned straw hats. Some were even singing as they rowed, maneuvering the distinctive single oar with impressive skill and dexterity as they ferried passengers around the section of the lake cordoned off for their use. Channel markers fashioned to look like floating fairy lights turned the scene into a romantic wonderland.

“It was something Natalie said that made me think of it,” Catherine explained. “I was a bit concerned about lake traffic, but we were able to get permission to use this small section for a few hours tonight. I even stationed security personnel in private craft directing boaters away from the area.”

“Smart, though there’s a no-wake zone through here, isn’t there?”

“There’s supposed to be.” She shrugged. “But you know how that can go.”

Satisfied that the guests were thoroughly enjoying their small taste of Venice, she turned her attention to the buffet station set up on one side of the sweeping lawn. The caterers she’d chosen specialized in authentic Italian cuisine and had gone all out for the evening’s festivities. Graceful tents of silk and tulle surrounded the groaning tables. With a stiff breeze blowing from off the lake, the tents served the duel function of protecting the food and keeping the fuel canisters beneath the hot dishes from blowing out. Adjacent to the tents, linen draped tables dotted the area, the silver cutlery and crystal glassware gleaming softly beneath the lighting.