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The Italian Titans
The Italian Titans

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The Italian Titans

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‘And I didn’t think that I would be sitting here gazing at my devoted and adoring husband-to-be!’ Alexa retorted, because there was no reason for her to pretend that this was anything but a fiasco.

Besides, the man was so good-looking that he might just be arrogant enough to think that she actually wanted to be in this position.

She felt she should rid him of any such assumption from the start.

‘So I’m assuming...’ he rose fluidly from the chair to refill her glass with more champagne before topping his up with more of the whisky he had been drinking ‘...that we’re both singing from the same song sheet?’

‘What did you expect?’ Alexa threw at him, mouth downturned.

‘I could either answer that question truthfully or else ignore it altogether. Which would you rather?’

Alexa shrugged and tore her eyes away from his long, muscular frame. ‘We might just as well lay our cards on the table,’ she said.

‘In which case,’ Theo drawled, ‘I should tell you I had reached the conclusion that you might be a little desperate...considering Carlo is prepared to throw you in as part of his financial negotiations with my father...’

Slow, furious colour crawled into her cheeks.

‘You are the most arrogant man I think I have ever met in my entire life!’ Alexa said through gritted teeth.

She gauged the level of satisfaction she would get from flinging her glass at him, but decided that the only way to handle this disaster would be not to let him get to her.

She wasn’t going to lose her cool. She never lost her cool. It was what made her so good at what she did. She worked in the offices of a group of pro bono lawyers and daily dealt with people in need of practical and emotional help. Three evenings a week she volunteered at a women’s shelter. She was calm personified!

‘Since we’re about to be joined in happily married bliss, I suggest you take that on board and don’t think of implementing any changes.’

Theo was perversely enjoying himself, and he put that down to the sort of man he was. The sort who could deal with whatever was thrown at him, however unexpected.

‘And in return,’ he continued, in the same lazy dark drawl that made her toes curl, ‘I won’t try and turn you into someone charming and well behaved...’

Alexa glared and bit down hard on the riposte stinging her lips. She had no idea how she was going to survive twelve hours with this man, never mind twelve months.

‘I’ve spoken to my father,’ she gritted, ‘and he has agreed that we only have to carry out this crazy charade for twelve months. After that we can part company and you can return to your life of— You can return to your life and I can get back to mine.’

Theo wondered what she had been about to say but let it go. He, in actual fact, had secured a far better deal—because his twelve months also included a substantial acquisition of Caldini company shares and a seat on the board. It would tie in very nicely with his current diversion into telecommunications.

After the initial shock of the catastrophe that had been presented to him, he had very quickly reached the perfectly correct conclusion that marrying his daughter off was only one benefit for Carlo Caldini in helping his father.

The other was glaringly obvious.

Carlo Caldini ran a juggernaut of a family business but there was no male family member to whom he could leave his legacy—and, like many traditional Italians, he wanted his business to remain in the family. By marrying his daughter to Theo he netted one of the most wildly respected and formidable businessmen on the globe.

And for Theo, Alexa Caldini came with a considerable dowry.

‘So no doubt we should be discussing the mechanics,’ he said.

‘What do you mean?’

‘I mean that to the outside world we must be a loved-up pair about to embark on the greatest adventure of our lives. I will not have a whiff of scandal surrounding this, because under no circumstances is my father to be subjected to any manner of rumour about a convenient match concocted to save his company.’ His green eyes had cooled. ‘Are we one hundred per cent clear on this?’

‘Or else what?’

‘That’s a road I would seriously advise you not to go down.’

His voice was icy cold, with deadly intent, and Alexa shivered. Theo De Angelis had not reached the dizzy heights by being kind and avuncular. He’d probably never helped a little old lady cross a road in his entire life. She wondered how he would react to her world when they were man and wife...

‘When we’re in public,’ he purred silkily, ‘you will withdraw your claws. You can keep them for when we’re alone together.’

‘You might find that you don’t like being scratched.’ Alexa tilted her chin mutinously and he smiled—a slow, curling smile that did all sorts of weird and unexpected things to her body.

‘And you might discover that I’m very good when it comes to subduing wild cats.’

Suddenly confused, and feeling horribly out of her depth, Alexa blinked and gulped down the remainder of her champagne.

She might talk the talk, but how good would she be at walking the walk?

She had virtually no experience when it came to the opposite sex. She had been sent off to England to an all girls’ boarding school and from there to university, where she had buried herself in books, determined to get her law degree.

Of course there had been a couple of boyfriends, but neither had excited her and she had always been determined to hold out for the Right One—never to sell herself short. They had both cleared off as soon as they’d realised that she wasn’t going to hop into bed with them.

Now, as her bright blue eyes tangled with his cool, unreadable green ones, she knew that this was a predator, born to lead and accustomed to obedience.

Obedience she would give him—but only within the parameters that suited them both. If he didn’t want anyone getting wind of the real reason for their union she, in turn, did not want to embarrass her parents, whom she dearly loved.

He wanted her to put up a public front and she would—but the second they closed the door behind them there would be no more game-playing.

And suddenly a thought rippled through her that made her breathing quicken.

When the front door closed...what happened next?

It was something that she would have to broach, and she licked her lips nervously because the mere thought of this big, domineering man touching her sent her whole nervous system into instant meltdown.

He surely wouldn’t expect them to sleep together! Not when this was a farce—a marriage of convenience...a union in which there would be no love lost!

Her breathing steadied.

Panic over.

He might be arrogant and ruthless, but he wasn’t an idiot—and besides, she knew the sort of women he dated because she had seen pictures in some of the trashy magazines she had flicked through while she was getting her hair done.

Tall, blonde women who wore the minimum of clothing and whose full-time occupation appeared to be personal grooming.

‘You said that we need to discuss the mechanics of this...this arrangement...?’

‘Shall we do that over dinner—?’

‘Why? We might as well hash it out now.’

He stood up, blatantly ignoring her interruption. ‘I wouldn’t like to kick off our joyous life together on the wrong note,’ he drawled, strolling towards the door, which her parents had tactfully shut behind him on their way out.

‘What do you mean?’ Alexa followed him, disgruntled.

‘I mean your mother has had a doubtless delicious meal prepared for us. What kind of guest would I be if I disregarded her invitation?’

‘The kind that’s marrying me thanks to parental pressure?’ Alexa muttered sourly.

He shot her a brief look of appreciation.

‘Besides,’ she continued, skin tingling from that momentary look, ‘you don’t strike me as the sort of man who gives a hoot what other people think of him.’

She swept past him, breathing in his clean, woody scent and determinedly ignoring its impact on her senses.

‘I find that I’m willing to make an exception for my in-laws-to-be...’

‘Why are you taking this so calmly?’

It was the first thing Alexa said as they sat down at the table in the informal dining room. The blue room was still big enough to fit a ten-seater table, but places had been set for them opposite each another at one end. As always, it was a full arrangement, with dinner plates, side plates and separate silver cutlery for every course to be served—in this case salad, soup, main course and dessert.

Alexa could not have felt less hungry, and she looked with uninterest as salads were brought in and placed in front of them.

He, she noted, had no problem with his appetite.

‘How else do you imagine I should react?’ Theo looked at her, and across the width of the table she felt his overwhelming presence all the more acutely.

There was something intimate about eating together, and she could barely concentrate on her salad as the flutter of nerves threatened to overpower her common sense.

She put that down to her healthy dislike of the man.

‘Do you imagine that this is a situation I enjoy being in?’ he enquired coolly. ‘My father dropped this bombshell and I find I’ve had next to no option but to take the hit.’

‘I never thought I’d end up in a marriage with someone who would walk up the aisle only thanks to having to take a hit from a bombshell he couldn’t dodge,’ Alexa said bitterly—and that was the stark truth.

She had never followed the pattern of her friends, who had believed in sleeping around. She had never assumed that marriage was something to be taken lightly because it could be unpicked without too much difficulty if the going got rough. Her own parents had had a long and extremely happy marriage. Her mother, Irish by heritage, had been a gap-year student when she had met Carlo, and theirs had been a case of love at first sight. Which made it doubly upsetting that her father had seen fit to put her in this position. He had taken advantage of a situation and she was going to have to pay the price.

‘I don’t think that way of thinking will pay dividends in this particular situation...’ Theo pushed his salad plate to one side and sprawled back in the chair to look at her coolly. ‘We’ve both been put in an unfortunate position and now we have to deal with it.’

‘And you’re not angry...?’

‘Like I said, there’s no point in wasting energy on emotions that won’t get either of us anywhere. We’re going to present the perfect picture of a couple in love. Naturally there will have to be an engagement and a public announcement. Doubtless there will be cameras. You will smile and gaze adoringly up at me.’

‘And what will you be doing while I’m smiling and gazing adoringly?’

‘Controlling the situation.’

‘And this so-called engagement is supposed to last...how long?’

‘It’ll be brief,’ Theo asserted with the sweeping assurance of someone who had given the details a great deal of thought. ‘We can’t wait to tie the knot.’

‘And how is this supposed to make any kind of sense?’ Alexa demanded. She lapsed into silence as their salad plates were removed, to be replaced with soup. ‘Have you suddenly had a transformation and gone from being a womaniser to a one-woman man who’s desperate to get married?’

‘And that,’ Theo said in a hard voice, ‘is just the sort of approach I am warning you to avoid.’ Then he smiled—a slow, lazy smile that made the breath hitch in her throat. ‘I never imagined that you were a spitting cat...’ he mused. ‘Do you think that’s the reason your parents think you’ll end up on the shelf...?’

CHAPTER TWO

‘I CAN’T BELIEVE you just said that.’

Never had a meal seemed so interminably long. Interrupted by the arrival of their main course—a fish casserole—Alexa could only glare at him with simmering resentment. No one had ever riled her to this extent. His air of superior cool got on her nerves and made her rantings seem childish and petty.

‘You have no right to say stuff like that! You don’t know me!’

Theo dug into his food. She might not be his type, but there was a certain arresting quality to her face. Anger suited her, and he was startled at this reaction—because temper tantrums were things he had always actively discouraged.

Her dig about his womanising had annoyed him, and as far as he was concerned what was good for the goose was likewise good for the gander. If she wanted to throw accusations at him, then her shoulders should be broad enough to take it when he threw a few home truths back at her in return.

Not his style, admittedly, but then again since when had he ever been placed in a situation like this? On every single level she was just the sort of woman he would never naturally be drawn to. Physically, she was nothing like the tall, leggy supermodels he dated and, appearances aside, he liked his women to be obliging and accommodating. His work life was intense enough without having to do battle with a woman.

‘Aren’t you going to eat?’ he asked. ‘It’s excellent. Maybe I’ll get the name of your mother’s chef... Do you think she would object if I poached him?’

‘Elena isn’t a chef,’ Alexa muttered. ‘She’s the housekeeper we’ve had for centuries. And, yes, I think my mother would object if you decided to poach her. For your information, I have never considered myself as on the shelf. I’m not one of those women who thinks that the be-all and end-all of life is to get married as fast as you can and start having children.’

‘I’m guessing that both your parents do.’

Alexa pushed her plate to one side. ‘There’s no point discussing this. What my parents think or don’t think... How long before we get married?’

She was forcibly struck by the surreal situation she was now wading through—and by the fact that her contented life had been turned upside down in the space of a few days.

So she hadn’t been leading the most thrilling of lives... But it had taken her ages to get used to being back in Italy after first boarding school and then university abroad, followed by a stint in London, where she had worked for a small law company before her mother’s illness had called her back home.

She had spent the past year and a half easing herself into a life that felt foreign. Was it any wonder that excitement and thrills weren’t high on her agenda? Once she found her feet, she was sure that the slightly zoned out feeling she lived with much of the time would disappear.

She hadn’t banked on excitement landing on her doorstep in the form of a forced marriage.

‘Max—two months. And, to return to your question about the plausibility of my settling down at the speed of light... We both need to agree that it’s a case of love getting the better of me.’ He shrugged elegantly and stood up, tossing his serviette onto the table and prowling through the room as he thought.

Alexa followed him with her eyes. His movements were economical and graceful. He was wearing black jeans, a white linen shirt which was cuffed to the elbows and loafers, and he exuded elegance. He certainly hadn’t dressed for the occasion, but he still managed to look every inch the powerful tycoon that he was. He was obviously one of those people who could pull off elegance wearing anything... If he swapped clothes with a tramp he would still manage to look cool and sexy.

‘I broke up with my last girlfriend over three months ago—during which time I’ve been out of the public eye...’

‘You’re telling me that the press usually follow everything you do?’

Theo paused, leaned against the window ledge, then looked at her and kept looking at her as the dishes were cleared away. He signalled in a barely discernible gesture that they should be left alone for a while, and the door was duly shut as the last dish was removed. The oak table was left with just the wine decanter and a bottle of champagne.

‘I’m high-profile,’ he agreed. ‘I don’t ask for it, but it seems that some reporters have little else to do but take pictures of the rich and famous. It’s just a fact of life, and I’ve become accustomed to dealing with it.’

‘I would absolutely hate that.’

‘It’s something to which you might find you have to become accustomed—’

‘On top of everything else,’ Alexa muttered.

Her eyes flickered towards him and she found that she had to tear them away, because he was just so unfairly compelling to look at.

Theo chose to ignore her interruption. He had anticipated someone plain, docile and quite possibly grateful to be rescued from the prospect of spinsterhood. A traditional Italian woman who would welcome the abundance of riches suddenly deposited in her lap—because he knew without a trace of vanity that he was a good catch.

It would have been hard to locate someone less grateful than the girl now glowering at him, and he banked down a sudden flare of irritation.

‘At any rate,’ he pressed on, ‘no one will raise eyebrows about the timeline, and the fact that at least on paper this would appear to be the perfect match will certainly help things along. We both come from prominent Italian families... I have found the woman of my dreams, someone close to home, and have decided to steer my life in a different direction... Both families are overjoyed by the match...’

‘Even though our fathers haven’t been on speaking terms for years?’

‘All the more touching. Everyone likes a fairy-tale ending.’

‘You’re so cynical, aren’t you?’

‘Realistic and practical.’

‘And how are we supposed to have met? We don’t even live in the same country.’

‘I don’t think it will require great feats of the imagination to come up with something.’

Was she going out of her way to get on his nerves? he wondered. Did she honestly think that his life hadn’t also undergone a seismic change? Less than two weeks ago he had been a free man—free to go where he pleased, to have whatever woman he wanted. No one was waiting in the wings, expecting him to put in an appearance. That freedom had disappeared in a puff of smoke, but was he whining and complaining? No. He was solution-orientated and, like it or not, plans had to be made so that this pretence could be seamlessly accepted as nothing short of the absolute truth.

‘Let’s have your thoughts on this,’ he said.

An edge of irritation had crept into his voice and, hearing it, Alexa scowled, once again reduced to feeling petty.

‘I suppose we could have met here,’ she said, a little ungraciously.

‘I occasionally do come to Italy to see my father. . It’s a realistic enough scenario. You happened to be somewhere... Suddenly my life shifted on its axis... If a reporter asks you for details you can always tell him no comment and then gaze adoringly at me. Probably safer than getting tangled up in a lie.’

He looked at her glum face, then down to her baggy, unappealing outfit. No doubt she had pointedly dressed down for a confrontation she didn’t want, but it was something that would have to be discussed whether she liked it or not. He suspected not, but treading delicately round the issue wasn’t going to do.

‘Is that how you normally dress?’

‘I beg your pardon?’

‘Jeans...baggy tops... And what are you wearing on your feet...?’

Alexa looked at him indignantly and stuck her foot out. ‘Trainers.’

‘Running shoes? To my mind, they’re for running. Are you running anywhere? Have you just come from the gym?’

‘What are you getting at?’ Her voice had risen a notch. His levels of arrogance were in the process of escalating.

‘Credibility,’ Theo said succinctly. ‘We may make the ideal match, and when our engagement hits the news much will be made of our backgrounds, but even the least observant reporter might question the fact that I’ve fallen head over heels in love with someone who doesn’t appear to give a damn how she looks...’

Alexa’s mouth dropped open. She contemplated throwing something at him.

‘That is the most insulting thing that has ever been said to me in my entire life!’

‘It’s not meant to be insulting,’ Theo informed her drily. ‘I’m looking at this situation from all angles and simply bringing one of those angles to your attention. The women I’ve dated in the past—’

‘There’s no need to go into that.’ Alexa was mortified, and outraged that he should be tactless enough to criticise her choice of clothing. ‘I know exactly what sort of women you’ve dated in the past.’

‘How so?’

‘I’ve seen the occasional picture in a trashy mag.’ She liked the way the words trashy mag rolled off her tongue.

‘You read “trashy mags”? You surprise me. I thought I might be getting a highbrow intellectual for a wife. I’m disappointed.’

There was a thread of amusement in his voice which she decided to ignore, because it seemed to point to a side of his personality that wasn’t part of the package she had conjured up.

‘They’re the only things to read at the hairdresser,’ Alexa told him airily. ‘Great big stacks of silly magazines, full of useless gossip. I saw a picture of you in one of them a couple of months ago. A tall, blonde woman was clinging to you as though she might fall flat on her face unless you kept her propped up. Maybe she’d had too much to drink...’ Alexa mused, enjoying herself for the first time that evening. ‘I hadn’t thought of that. But I suppose those society dos usually involve a lot of alcohol. I’ve been asked to several over the years,’ she inserted, truthfully enough, because as the daughter of a prominent Italian family she had occasionally been asked to some event or other in aid of a good cause, ‘but I try and avoid them.’

‘How virtuous.’

‘So, yes, I know that you date tall model-types. A bit like your brother. He also pops up in those kinds of magazines, with some drunken supermodel hanging on to him for dear life...’

Theo thought of Daniel and for a second tried to imagine what the mouthy little brunette facing him would have thought of his brother. His brother was the essence of a playboy—which was why he had laughed uproariously when Theo had told him about the situation he was stuck in.

It would have been Daniel’s ultimate nightmare, and he had been overjoyed at the prospect of being able to remain free, single and unattached, without having to worry that their father might start making noises about him settling down. One son who had settled down would be plenty good enough.

‘I like the way you think the supermodel was drunk...’ Theo murmured, temporarily distracted by her digression and thinking that, yes, there was a very high chance that whoever she had seen clinging to him had had too much to drink. ‘Maybe she was clinging to me because she liked the sensation of being pressed up against me... A lot of women do...’

Alexa blinked and blushed. ‘Well...’ the conversation had meandered, and she had only herself to blame ‘...in case you hadn’t noticed I’m not six-foot-two and blonde, so you can’t turn me into one of your supermodels...’

‘You know exactly what I was talking about, Alexa...’

‘Do I?’ The way he said her name sent little shivers through her, and her eyes glazed over as she tried to fight off the unusual sensation.

‘Show up next to me in a pair of jeans, some trainers and a baggy sweatshirt and people are going to scratch their heads in bewilderment. And show up next to me you’re going to have to—because we’re going to spend the next couple of months convincing whoever needs convincing that we’re a loved-up couple.’

‘I have a job...’ Alexa stared at him in horror.

‘I’m not asking you to shadow me twenty-four hours of the day,’ Theo clarified. ‘In fact I won’t even be in Italy for significant periods of time. My work is primarily in London. I will, however, try and arrange my business dealings so that I can be here more often than I normally would. I don’t see that I have much choice in the matter. At any rate, when I’m in London you’re going to have to drop whatever you’re doing and put in an appearance. Two people who are supposed to be madly in love should be madly in love enough that they actually want to spend time in the same country together.’

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