Chapter Four
‘I… I BEG your pardon, Mr Lorenti?’ Tali murmured, sure the emotional roller coaster ride she’d been on since entering the library had just crashed off the rails.
That surge of awareness wasn’t helping her keep a grip on her cognitive faculties either. She couldn’t possibly have heard the Italian billionaire correctly.
If he needed a wife—for a year—which was peculiar enough, why would he ask her? Not only did he not know her from Adam, but she was also so far from being his type she might as well be circling Mars.
She worked on a farm! Her mother had been his father’s housekeeper.
She’d been literally shovelling horse shit less than fifteen minutes ago, some of which was still decorating her jeans.
And she’d never even read about the sort of events and parties and soirees—were soirees even still a thing?
—that men like him would attend, let alone been invited to one.
‘You heard me correctly, Tallulah Whittaker,’ he said, using her full name again, but this time caressing the vowels with that husky Italian accent, almost as if he were mocking her.
Okay, great, now she’d dropped wholesale into another dimension. One in which Dario Lorenti found her amusing, instead of beneath contempt.
Unfortunately, that only made her reaction to him more disturbing.
The heat in her cheeks fired across her collarbone and reached past her aching lungs to tighten her nipples into hard peaks.
She folded her arms more firmly across her chest, attempting to get a grip.
‘Are…are you joking?’ she asked, not knowing why he was making fun of her, but trying to see it as a good thing. At least with that cynical smile on his lips he didn’t look so forbidding.
Whatever was going on with him, she had to negotiate it diplomatically, or he might reiterate his threat to demolish the Hall, which would leave her staff—all of whom she considered to be her friends and her responsibility—out of work and her and, even worse, her mum homeless.
Elsa Parker had worked long hours as a housekeeper here ever since Tali’s father had abandoned them both.
And when she’d decided to take early retirement a year ago after a bout of bursitis, Tali had promised her mother she could remain in the cottage she’d lived in for the past fifteen years.
Her mum still helped out in the tearooms at the weekend, so the peppercorn rent she paid was totally justified, in Tali’s humble opinion.
And losing her home might break her mum again, the way she had been broken after Tali’s father had left, which was another reason why Tali would do everything in her power to save Westwick.
‘A simple yes or no will do,’ he said as he stepped around the desk, his limp doing nothing to make him seem any less intimidating, until he stood in front of Tali. Close enough for her to inhale the scent of clean woodsy soap, blended with the refreshing hint of citrus and sea salt in his cologne.
She tried to step back, aware she probably didn’t smell anywhere near as delicious, but he reached out and clasped her wrist to prevent her retreat.
‘Are you scared of me, Tallulah?’ he asked, those rich brown eyes searching her face. The flare of something in the molten gold was almost as disturbing as the electric sensation sprinting up her arm from his loose grip on her captured wrist.
‘No…no, of course not,’ she murmured, around the ball of something immoveable in her throat.
He dropped her hand, but she couldn’t contain the vicious shudder of response.
‘Then stand still,’ he demanded, but the note of censure was not matched by the light still dancing in his eyes.
She forced herself not to move and tried not to tremble under that seeking gaze.
‘I need a wife, and I am asking you to take the position for a year, at a very generous salary,’ he said, his voice so low now it seemed to reverberate in her belly.
‘Why do you need a wife for a year?’
And why would you employ me when you’ve dated tons of much more suitable women who’d do the job for free?
She bit into her lip to stop herself from voicing that question, because it felt far too personal.
His brows lowered, his gaze became shuttered and the muscle in his jaw twitched again, signalling his disapproval.
‘The purpose of this arrangement is not your concern,’ he said. ‘Do you understand?’ There was that note of command again, and condescension, which was playing havoc with the weightless sensation in her belly.
Was this really happening? Because this whole situation had begun to feel like a weird anxiety dream, which she was hoping she would wake up from soon.
‘I… I guess so,’ she said, even though she didn’t understand at all.
‘So, what is your answer, Tallulah? Two million euros for a year of your time.’
‘I—I don’t want the money,’ she said, making his brows snap together.
‘For myself…’ she added quickly, because she could see he wasn’t happy with that response either.
‘But if you would consider investing in the Hall as soon as possible, so I could give the staff a pay rise and start putting my plans for the business into action, I’d be happy to consider it… But I’d need a few guarantees first.’
If the Hall could become profitable, instead of just barely sustaining itself, Lorenti would surely want to invest more, and all the people who relied on her for employment—people she cared about—would have their futures secured, too.
But she needed to clarify what the position he was offering her entailed before agreeing to more.
What would a man like Dario Lorenti even require in a wife?
What exactly was he expecting her to do, and for a whole year?
It sounded like a public position. But the way he was looking at her, with that dark intensity in his eyes, was making parts of her ache that had never ached before—and that could not be good…
‘What guarantees?’ he snapped. The business-like tone, though, helped to stop the hot rock in her chest from vibrating… Unfortunately, it did nothing to shrink the one which had become lodged between her thighs.
‘Well, like, what do you want me to do? Exactly?’ she asked, feeling breathless again.
The cynical smile twisted, but he seemed unfazed by the question when he replied—his tone practical and pragmatic. ‘You would marry me, after you sign a pre-nuptial agreement, as soon as possible. Then you would need to do everything I request to make this marriage appear genuine—in public.’
The breath she had been holding released in a rush. So this was a stunt marriage.
He let out a low chuckle. ‘There is no need to look so relieved, Tallulah, that I am not proposing a genuine marriage.’
The blush blazed across her chest and blasted into her cheeks. Was he amused or offended? ‘I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to imply…’ Her heart raced into her throat. ‘I mean, I’m sure you’re very appealing to women.’ The blush burned as one dark eyebrow arched.
For heaven’s sake, Tali, shut up!
‘But you do not find me appealing?’ he prompted.
‘It’s not that, I just, I…’ She swallowed, the hot rock between her thighs calling her a liar, but the constriction in her lungs winning. ‘I’ve only just met you… And I work for you. I don’t think it would be appropriate for us to…to…’
She trailed off.
Sheesh, why don’t you just dig a hole in the carpet and jump into it.
‘For us to what, Tallulah? Exactly?’
She heard the hint of sarcasm then and saw the renewed spark of amusement in the golden brown.
He was mocking her. The…bastard!
She breathed through the flash of temper.
Dario Lorenti was a powerful and ruthless man who held her future and the happiness of the people she loved in the palm of his hand, and who had no scruples about using that power to get what he wanted.
Trying to appease him probably wasn’t the best strategy, because it was like playing peek-a-boo with a tiger. Eventually, she’d lose.
She had no idea why he needed this fake marriage, or why he had picked her, but she had to ensure she didn’t allow him to beguile and belittle her. No easy feat, given she didn’t have a lot of experience with men generally.
She wasn’t a virgin. She’d dated at school and gone all the way with a boy she’d met at agricultural college… But those pleasant if not particularly memorable encounters hadn’t got her anywhere near as hot and bothered as Dario Lorenti had with a single look.
Sexual confidence seemed to ooze from this man’s pores, and he used it as a weapon, without even trying.
Because how else had he put her whole body on high alert—every pulse point pounding, each erogenous zone humming—when she was fairly sure she didn’t even like the guy?
And she certainly did not trust him. He was far too surly, and mercurial, and unreadable.
And that was before you factored in that he was proposing they ‘pretend’ to be man and wife for an entire year…
Stop acting like an airhead then! And talking in silly euphemisms.
‘I don’t think it would be a good idea for us to sleep together!’ she blurted out, seizing the tiger by the tail. ‘If I take on the role of your wife, that’s all it would be, a role. I just want that understood. In case you were wondering…’
His eyes narrowed, but what she saw in them bolstered her resolve—not amusement anymore, but admiration.
‘Duly noted, Tallulah,’ he murmured, his ego clearly not dented by her assertion, but at least he wasn’t laughing at her anymore. ‘What we choose to do in private would not be part of your paid role as my wife,’ he continued.
‘Okay, good,’ she said. His phrasing was a little weird, because they wouldn’t be doing anything together in private, surely. But English wasn’t his first language, and she was glad he wasn’t going to press the point, because the hot spot between her thighs had begun to ache.
‘You will take the job then?’ he asked, although it didn’t really sound like a question, his confidence as intimidating as everything else about him.