Jennifer Probst - The Marriage Merger

Her brother had true intentions but still kept the reins on her leadership role until he married Maggie and saw the error of his ways. Finally, she had leapt forward and started making deals on her own. When Michael had begun infil-trating top hotels in the States, Julietta had burned with the desire to push the bakery chain to a new level in Italy. She’d already conquered the street market, but she wanted to go after the hotels. The big ones. The failure of her last deal with The Palazzo still stung. She’d been completely prepared, and every pore of her body had craved a final deal.

She hated the simmering knowledge that The Palazzo’s ex-ecutive team didn’t believe a woman could give them what they desired. oh, in bed, yes. But in business?

No. Instead, they gave the deal to her competitor who boasted no vision and an Italian patriarch grandfather.

Julietta realized too late The Palazzo wanted full control over her. once they’d realized the little woman had a strong voice, they’d dropped her contract without another word.

But now she faced a resurrection of her dream. Sawyer’s contract could launch La Dolce Famiglia into the world of luxurious hotels.

There were risks, though. With an exclusive contract, she’d be unable to install any other bakeries. She’d be locked up with Purity, and if Sawyer failed, so would she.

The gamble lay before her in all shades of gray. excitement pulsed through her. When was the last time she’d gotten fired up about a deal? She desperately needed a challenge to focus on to launch her out of the current self-pity tour she hosted every evening. There was nothing better than a shot of adrenaline on a new contract.

Five p.m.

The intercom buzzed. She hit the button. “yes?”

“Ms. Conte, Sawyer Wells is on the line. May I put him through?”

She shook her head and fought a smile. “yes, thank you.”

The connection hummed. His voice spilled like gravel and silk over the phone. “Have you made a decision?”

“Prompt, aren’t you?”

“Always.” He paused. “We can play another round and drag the discussion out over dinner. or I can persuade you in the manner you need. I’m quite good at persuasion.”

His arrogance was overwhelming and sexy as hell.

Damn, he’d be fun to work with. “No need. I’ve been wined and dined by the best. Never made a decision based on such techniques either.”

His dark laugh was like a subtle threat. “you’re not familiar with my moves.”

“I’ve found most male moves overrated.”

“Delightful. A challenge.”

Julietta gave a long-suffering sigh. Better to get the truth out over dinner. If Sawyer thought he’d get some extra side benefits while they worked together, he was quite mistaken. She hoped he wouldn’t get cranky and surly like the other rejects. “Trust me, it was simple truth and not meant to wave a red flag in front of you. My answer is yes.”

Silence fell between them. She waited him out. “yes?”

“Do I need to repeat myself? I’ll sign the contract. you can still meet me here at headquarters at seven so we can celebrate. A pleasure conversing with you, Mr. Wells.”

She clicked off her earpiece. Satisfaction surged. Her tiny rebellion with his name may have been childish, but well worth it. obviously, he was way too used to women jumping at his call and throwing off their clothes. Time he realized he couldn’t get anyone he wanted because the angels bestowed him the gift of hotness.

regret nudged her. What would it feel like just once to have a strong physical reaction to a man without worrying about freezing up? For it to be simple and clean. Just nakedness and orgasms and an early morning getaway.

Pathetic. If that was her only deficiency in life, she could call herself blessed. At least she had a juicy new deal ahead of her, with long hours of work and a deep satisfaction that called to her.

Success.

Completion.

Achievement.

It was enough.

She repeated the mantra to herself as she got back to work. The hours flew by. Julietta took her last two minutes to smooth back her hair, re-knot her scarf, and tuck her folders away. He arrived on time and in full male glory. Her gaze raked over him with a hint of crankiness. He stood in the doorway and refused to say a word. His quiet arrogance radiated in waves around his figure, and she fought the need to drop her head in recognition. Weirdness.

He wore a charcoal-gray pin-striped suit with a purple tie. The ruthless severity of the suit contradicted with his surfer hair tied back in a short ponytail, setting off the hard lines of his cheekbones and the red scar. The combination of raw sex and power cloaked in masculine grace transfixed her for just a moment. Julietta mentally shook herself. No more drooling. Defenses up. Game on.

“you like being in charge, don’t you, Julietta?”

The stroke of her name was deliberate and effective.

She forced a pleasant smile. “Doesn’t every woman?”

“you won’t let me see your apartment. Not even your private office. I’ve been delegated to picking you up for dinner in your conference room.”

Julietta grabbed her red Fendi bag and closed the distance between them. His body pumped out heat, and she had to tilt her head back a few inches in order to meet his gaze. God, he smelled good. Like coffee and spices, rich and all male. Her height usually gave her an advantage. At almost six feet, she usually towered over her competition, but he topped her by several inches. She realized now the sheer breadth and size of his massive shoulders stretched in his proper suit jacket was another contradiction. He was a primitive wrapped up in civilization. The veneer scared her the most, but she wouldn’t let herself be in such an intimate position with him. She had to set boundaries immediately, or he’d swallow her whole. “I may have agreed to the contract, but I never invite anyone into my private space.”

Sawyer didn’t budge. “ever?” he asked softly.

“our working relationship doesn’t guarantee a friend-ship, Sawyer. you may have met my family, and we may be going to dinner, but I don’t know you well enough for anything more.”

He seemed to analyze her words. Nodded. “Fair enough.

I figured we’d walk to Piazza repubblica.”

“Perfect.”

He ushered her out of headquarters as if he were in charge. His hand rested on the curve of her elbow, his fingers strong but gentle as he guided her over the uneven cobblestone pathways as they walked toward the restaurant.

The familiar sights and scents of Milan rushed past her.

She breathed in the heavy, fogged air that made the city unique, and she settled into a comfortable silence. The bustle of cars and pedestrians crowding the streets and sidewalks lent a purposeful atmosphere that soothed her soul.

Motorbikes roared by. Beautifully clad women in designer suits and high-heeled shoes weaved in and out amidst the crowd with elegant grace, and sidewalk café tables spilled onto the sidewalk with the scents of espresso and baked goods.

She’d seen videos of New york City and always felt Milan must be a close second cousin except for the grayish mist that cloaked the city and made it seem almost muddy to a viewer’s eye. Instead of towering glass buildings, the ancient architecture of the Duomo reigned.

They finally reached the elegant archway of repubblica.

It was already crowded, but they were immediately ushered to a red booth in the corner, and Sawyer ordered a bottle of champagne. The simple clean lines of the restaurant pleased her—the crisp white linens, polished floors, high ceilings, and candles scattering throughout the dimly lit interior. She chatted with the waiter, ordered appetizers, and began to relax.