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

“If I do what you want…” The words escaped like chewed glass. “What then?”

“Then you have two choices. Option number one, you can behave yourself and toe the line. For instance, I have an event coming up this next weekend, assuming Gabe and I can salvage the account. You are not going to interfere with that event in any way, shape or form. If anything goes wrong, just the least little thing, I’m putting it on you. I don’t care if it decides to rain that day, it’ll be your fault. If Mt. Rainier turns active and dumps ash all over Annie Collington’s special day…your fault. If anything goes wrong, I promise, I will bury you for it.”

One look at Roxanne’s face told the story. She’d planned to do something. Catherine could only imagine what that might be. “You said I have two choices,” she replied. “What’s my other one?”

“You can pack up your brimstone and find a new boss to screw with.”

“You can’t fire me. Only Gabe can.”

Catherine smiled in real pleasure. “Now, that’s my favorite part about our little dilemma here, because you’re right. I don’t have that ability. So I thought of the perfect way around that small stumbling block. You see, men always have so much trouble deciding on the perfect wedding gift for their bride.” Not that he’d asked. But Roxanne didn’t have to know that. “Lucky for Gabe, now I know exactly what I want. And I guarantee he’ll accommodate my request.”

“You bitch!”

Catherine’s amusement faded. “You’re damn right. I’m through playing nice. And in case you still have any doubts, let me assure you that the benefits of bitchdom keep adding up.” She gave it to her, chapter and verse. “If you try and start any more trouble after you leave Piretti’s, people will immediately conclude that it’s sour grapes on your part. And if they have the least little doubt, I’ll be sure to explain it first to them, and then to my lawyer.” She released her breath in a happy little sigh. “See how simple all this is?”

“This isn’t over, you—” She broke off and to Catherine’s shock, huge tears filled her eyes. “Oh, Gabe. I’m so sorry you have to see us like this.”

He stood in the doorway, his gaze shifting from one woman to the other. “Problem?”

“Not yet,” Catherine said.

She kept Roxanne pinned with a hard look. She held up her phone as a pointed reminder and then made a production of returning it to her purse. It was a subtle warning, but it seemed to have a profound effect. Satisfied that they understood each other, Catherine turned and offered Gabe a sunny smile.

“No problem at all,” she assured him. “Roxanne and I were simply coming to a long-overdue understanding.”

He folded his arms across his chest. “That explains the tears.”

“Exactly,” she stated serenely. “Tears of joy. We’re both all choked up with emotion.”

“Uh-huh. So I see.” She wished she could read his expression, but he’d assumed the indecipherable mask he wore during his most intense business negotiations. “Roxanne? Anything to add?”

His assistant ground her teeth in frustration, but managed a hard, cold smile. “Not a thing. At least, not yet.”

“Excellent.” He inclined his head toward the elevators. “Ready, Catherine?”

“As ready as I’ll ever be.”

“Then off we go before you cause any more tears of joy.”

Catherine gave Gabe directions to the little café just north of the city, where arrangements had been made to meet with the bride-to-be. Annie Collington, a bubbly redhead with a smattering of freckles across the bridge of her upturned nose, appeared tense and unhappy.

Introductions were made, and Annie smiled at Gabe with only a hint of her customary zest. “I recognize you, of course. I think your photo is on everything from the society page to the business section to the gossip magazines.”

“I wouldn’t believe a word of anything except the gossip magazines.”

She twinkled briefly before she caught Catherine’s eye and her amusement faded. “Do we really have to do this?” she asked miserably. “I’ve fired you, now that’s the end of it. Nothing you say is going to change my mind.”

Before Catherine could respond, Gabe stepped in smoothly. “Why don’t we sit down and have a cup of coffee and a bite to eat while we figure out how best to settle this?”

“Please, Annie.” Catherine added gentle pressure. “Your wedding is only eight days away. You have such a beautiful day planned. You don’t want to make any rash decisions that might jeopardize it.”

“That’s precisely what I’m trying to prevent,” Annie insisted. “I heard about the Marconi party. It was a disaster. I can’t have that happen at my wedding.”

“And it won’t,” Gabe assured her. Without even seeming to do so, he guided them to the table the hostess had waiting for them, seated them, and ordered coffee and a platter of house specialty sandwiches. “May I make a proposal that might help with your decision?” he asked Annie.

“Gabe—” Catherine began.

“No, it’s okay,” Annie interrupted. “He can try.”

Catherine fell silent, struggling to suppress an irrational annoyance. After all, Gabe was just trying to help, even if it did feel as if he’d swooped in and taken command of her meeting. Still, she didn’t appreciate him seizing control like…well, like a damn pirate.

“How about this, Annie?” Gabe was saying. “If you agree to continue to use Catherine and Elegant Events as your wedding planner, I will personally guarantee that your wedding goes off without a hitch.”

“You can’t do that,” Catherine instantly protested.

“You can do that?” Annie asked at the same time.

“I can, absolutely.”

The coffee arrived in a slender, wafer-thin porcelain urn hand-painted with an intricate pattern of wild red strawberries and crisp green leaves. After aiming a dazzling smile of dismissal in the direction of their waitress, Gabe took over the chore of pouring fragrant cups for the three of them. The delicate bits of china should have looked small and clumsy in his large hands. But instead he manipulated the coffee service with an impressive dexterity that made him appear all the more powerful and male. He made short work of the chore, and Catherine could see that she wasn’t the only one dazzled by the way his raw masculinity dominated and subdued the fussy bit of femininity.

“Let’s see if this offer doesn’t appeal,” he said as he handed Annie her cup. “If you’re not one hundred percent satisfied with your wedding, I’ll personally see to it that you’re refunded every penny.”

She accepted the coffee with a smile. “That doesn’t exactly guarantee that it’ll go off without a hitch,” she pointed out with impressive logic.

“True,” Gabe conceded, while Catherine silently steamed at his high-handedness.

She didn’t want or need anyone to guarantee her ability to pull off this wedding. She was capable. Competent. She knew the business inside and out. But with one simple offer, he’d reduced Elegant Events in the eyes of her client to a struggling start-up in need of a “real” businessman to back its ability to perform successfully.

Gabe relaxed in his chair, very much in charge. “I may not be able to guarantee that nothing will go wrong if you honor your contract. But understand this, Annie. There is one thing I can guarantee.” He paused to add weight to his comment. “Your wedding will be an unmitigated disaster if you try and do it on your own at this late stage. You’re just asking for trouble attempting to be both bride and coordinator.”

Annie gnawed on her bottom lip. Clearly, the same thought had occurred to her. “I might be able to pull it off,” she offered.