Chapter Three
ADAM SAUNTERED ALONG the narrow street between old buildings that rose several stories.
Early as it was, there was plenty of bustle. Nice’s flower markets were in full swing, buckets of blooms vivid against the cobblestones. Awnings sheltered displays of glossy fruit and vegetables too, prices chalked on small blackboards. Trade was brisk.
He felt that briskness himself though he refused to hurry to the rendezvous. He was eager to cement this deal but arriving early would reveal his keenness. He was too savvy to give Gisèle any option but to agree to his terms.
Gisèle. He felt that familiar clench deep in his body. The flare of heat that had ignited when he’d first seen her in that press conference recording.
He’d felt it again yesterday, entering the restaurant she’d chosen for the meeting. It wasn’t the venue that had impressed him or the delicious meal. It was Gisèle Fontaine.
Right up to the moment he walked into the hotel he’d told himself he had the option not to proceed. He’d acquire her company since it fitted his requirements exactly. But as to the other, acquiring her as his wife, he hadn’t finally decided. It wasn’t as if he needed to marry.
But he’d known as he crossed the room towards her that his instinctive decision was the right one.
When she’d parried his deliberately challenging conversation, his certainty had grown.
Her attempt to win a concession for her staff had aroused admiration.
By the time she’d lifted her chin and lectured him on manners he’d been ablaze with impatience for her.
Marrying her was one of his most inspired ideas.
She was exactly what he required. In fact she was more. It wasn’t just his head telling him she had the qualities he sought. She’d lit a fire in his belly, in his groin, that refused to be quenched.
He wanted her, as a business asset and as a woman.
Adam couldn’t recall the last time he’d had such an all-consuming response to a woman. Insta-lust had been familiar in his youth but these days he was far more discriminating.
Gisèle attracted him on so many levels. She was a rarity. Maybe that’s why he hadn’t been able to get her out of his head. His wayward libido had latched onto her words about him having her over a barrel.
It didn’t matter that she was talking about business. All he could think about was Gisèle, bending forward while he stood behind her, lifting her straight skirt to her hips, spreading her long legs and losing himself in her velvet warmth until she screamed his name, pulsing out her pleasure until he climaxed too.
His step faltered and he paused on the pretext of looking at a shop, allowing his body time to cool. He couldn’t walk stiff-legged and aroused to their meeting.
He forced his mind from thoughts of carnal pleasure. And the satisfaction he anticipated when Gisèle capitulated.
It took a while, but focus and self-control were second nature. They were the basis of his success. Those and bloody hard work. And a determination not to be put down by anyone.
He made himself register the warmth of the sun on his shoulders, inhaled the cocktail of smells, damp cobbles, something sweet and a motorbike’s acrid exhaust. He’d spent so much time in board rooms and offices, it felt liberating to dawdle along a street during business hours, absorbing the sights and smells.
He’d stopped before a soap shop. Crates supported an artistic display of soaps, some embedded with leaves, some with lavender. Another, judging by the image pressed into it, with honey.
He thought of the House of Fontaine, with its scents and lotions. He imagined his mother’s face when he told her he’d acquired it. Her thrill and pride. Her excitement.
Through those tough years after his dad’s death, when there was never enough money and his mum worked herself to the bone juggling underpaid jobs, her one treat had been an occasional Saturday off.
She’d take him and his sister into the city with a packed lunch, to the big department store to window shop. Occasionally one of the chic women would do her makeup for free and it was always with Fontaine products. The embossed F entwined with a lavender sprig on those gold bottle tops always made him think of his mum’s smile. On those days it seemed as if, for a short time, the weight of worry lifted from her shoulders.
Angela, his sister, still bought Fontaine products for her on Mothers’ Day.
Looking at it that way, it was remarkable he’d even bothered to consider acquiring any company other than the House of Fontaine.
Except Adam wasn’t given to sentiment. Business was business, to be pursued with rigour and hard logic. He’d never consider acquiring Fontaine’s unless he knew he could turn it into something bigger and more successful—a sound return on his investment.
But it wasn’t a done deal yet. Perhaps that was why he’d had disturbed dreams, because he knew what he wanted but hadn’t yet secured it.
He snapped straighter and resumed his walk, his stride lengthening. It was time to seal this bargain.
She was seated at an outdoor table in a corner of a small square. He’d left the location to her and had again been surprised. He’d expected some chic establishment.
Maybe she preferred the illusion of freedom that came from being outside. But Gisèle was a smart woman. She knew she only had one choice.
Her eyes were on a boy with a red shirt running around a fountain, but Adam doubted she really noticed him. Her brows were drawn down in concentration as she twisted a glass of water round and around.
An unfamiliar sensation fluttered through Adam’s chest.
He couldn’t be having second thoughts. Ruthlessness was necessary for success. He wanted her company for the profits it would make under his leadership and for the prestige. He wanted her as visible proof that he’d climbed the dizzy heights of social success, and for himself. He’d ensure she didn’t lose out from their bargain.
Gisèle stopped twisting the glass, instead running her fingers up then down its length. Every muscle tightened as Adam imagined her hand on him.
Oh, yes, he definitely wanted her for himself.
He was digging her and her brother out of a hole, saving their precious company rather than allowing it to be taken over by others and possibly broken up. She’d find him extremely generous. She wasn’t selling herself into penury.
Besides, the choice was hers. She could say no.
Except he refused to consider that option.
He marched across the cobblestones, seeing the moment she recognised him and sat straighter, uncrossing her legs and pushing her shoulders back.
One day she’d welcome his approach instead of looking like a soldier preparing to face the enemy. He had a lot of catching up to do but he’d enjoy the challenge.
In high heels, a trouser suit of lilac-grey that complemented her eyes, and another sleek camisole peeping between the lapels, she made his pulse thrum. Her only jewellery were tiny golden earrings and a fine chain with a delicate golden flower that rested in the hollow of her collarbone, emphasising her slender elegance. She turned corporate chic from dull to enticing.
‘Gisèle, you’re looking charming.’
Her mouth flattened as if his compliment displeased her. She didn’t like compliments? Or maybe not ones about her appearance.
‘Adam. You look well-rested. Perhaps France agrees with you.’
‘I’m sure it does.’
Despite the fractured dreams, he’d woken feeling satisfied with his progress. He’d taken a long run, followed by a hearty breakfast and a conference call to Australia.
His satisfaction dimmed, though, as Gisèle surveyed him. Unlike yesterday, her gaze was openly assessing, trailing from his scalp, over his shoulders and torso, down his legs. He felt that grazing stare like a touch, like fire that ignited under a lover’s caress, bringing him to the brink of arousal in mere moments.
Yet there was no softening in her expression, no approval.
As if he left her cold and uninterested.
‘Please, take a seat.’
She was as gracious as a queen entertaining a stranger. Not like a woman greeting the man who would single-handedly save her business.
The man who intended to marry her.
For a bone-searing moment he actually wondered if he’d been mistaken yesterday, believing she was sexually interested, despite her attempts to hide it.
Then he saw the rogue shimmer of awareness in her eyes as they met his.
Relief punched him. He dropped into the chair beside her, surprised at how disturbed he’d been by the thought his attraction was one-sided. She felt it all right but didn’t want to show it. He admired her for that.
Adam was tired of over-eager women. Someone who made him work for what he wanted, as long as she ultimately wanted him too, was a refreshing change.
They ordered coffee and croissants that smelled like they’d just come from the oven, and it struck him that there was much to be said for doing business at an outdoor café on the French Riviera.
‘I’ve thought about your suggestion.’ Gisèle sipped her coffee.
‘Suggestion?’
‘Marriage.’
It hadn’t been a suggestion but an ultimatum and they both knew it.
He reached for his cup as if he wasn’t eager for her answer.
But there could only be one answer.
Adam waited, letting her fill the silence. He sipped his coffee, mentally ranking it below what he got in Australia. Angela, his sister, accused him of turning into a coffee snob, but the flaky pastry more than made up for it.
‘I had the impression you’re after a partner...’ Partner, not wife, he noted. Why did she shy away from the word? ‘Who’s posh. Really posh. So you need to know I’m no aristocrat. The Fontaines are working-class stock. I suggest you widen your search.’
Adam chewed the buttery croissant. Gisèle still wasn’t ready to accept his terms. He was torn between impatience and admiration at her gumption. It had been a very long time since anyone stood firmly in the way of him getting what he wanted. She was no pushover.
More and more he liked what he discovered.
‘You misunderstand. I’m not interested in a title. But wasn’t your grandmother a countess? And I thought a Russian princess married into the family last century.’
Blue eyes met his with a stare sharp enough to abrade skin. His flesh tingled and he repressed a smile. A reaction like that from this contained woman was a victory in itself.
It made him wonder how it would be if she stopped bottling up her emotions and allowed them free rein. He looked forward to it.
She shrugged. ‘My great-grandmother was penniless but born to a title in a country where they weren’t so rare. As for the Russian princess, she married into another branch of the family.’
Gravely he nodded. ‘Thank you for the clarification. As I said, titles don’t interest me. People do. You have the qualities I want in a wife.’ He watched that mask of calm conceal her thoughts. ‘So, Gisèle, what’s your answer? My legal team is standing by, waiting for me to tell them whether to proceed with the takeover.’
She stared across the square as if lost in thought. ‘If I were to consider your suggestion, I’d have conditions.’
Naturally. He was learning this woman didn’t give up easily. Her tenacity made him wonder about those poor decisions that had crippled the company. Had she been too headstrong to listen to advice? That didn’t sit with what he was learning about her. Maybe the advice she’d received had been flawed.
‘I’m listening.’
She turned and there was steel in her gaze. ‘First there needs to be job security for all Fontaine staff.’ She raised a hand as if expecting him to interrupt. ‘I understand your concerns about underperformance, but I want it written into any contract that the current rules will apply.’
‘Go on.’
She swallowed, the jerky movement revealing her vulnerability. Adam leaned closer, hit by a wish that they could begin their relationship, not as adversaries but as... What? Colleagues? Lovers?
‘My brother, Julien, has worked hard for the company. It’s his life.’ When Adam didn’t say anything she continued. ‘I’m asking you to keep him in a senior management position.’
‘To save his pride?’
Gisèle flinched, her mouth tightening. ‘It’s not about pride, but belonging and caring. He’s put his heart and soul into the company. No one knows it better.’
‘Yet he stepped aside as CEO and let you act in his stead. I understand he hasn’t been to executive meetings for some time.’
The one thing Adam had found annoying and intriguing was his team’s inability to access internal company gossip about the siblings. As if loyalty to the Fontaines were inbred into its employees.
No one apart from the press had wanted to speculate on Julien Fontaine’s absence yet he’d dropped completely off the radar.
Adam’s imagination had run the gamut of explanations from boredom with working for a living, to a breakdown, or an exciting love affair. His experience of people who’d inherited a successful family business was that they rarely had the stamina to succeed.
One intriguing thing about the Fontaine siblings in recent years was their ability to keep much of their private lives private.
It was remarkable considering the hype that had surrounded the family when they were young. At one stage they, and their parents, had been in the press every week. Adam’s researchers had uncovered so many media reports it was clear they’d once rivalled European royals and rock stars for notoriety.
Gisèle interrupted his thoughts. ‘I assure you Julien’s committed and capable. Taking time off work isn’t unheard of, you know.’
It was when you were the CEO, but Adam wouldn’t quibble. If taking on the other Fontaine and putting him somewhere for a short time where he couldn’t do any harm was the price of getting what he wanted, he’d consider it.
‘And you, Gisèle? Do you want to work in the company still?’
‘You mean apart from being used for photo opportunities?’
She didn’t hide her dismissive tone. Adam saw that as progress—her response was genuine, not what she thought he’d like to hear.
Eventually she continued. ‘It depends on your requirements. If you want people to believe we’re living together I’ll need to live where you do. Do you plan to settle in France?’
Still she couldn’t bring herself to use the word marry. It niggled, but he knew he had no right to be annoyed given how little time and choice he’d given her.
‘For the foreseeable future, with occasional trips to Australia and elsewhere. Is that a yes? You do want to work?’
Her eyes rounded. ‘Of course I want to work. I have a career I enjoy.’
‘There are many people who don’t need to work and enjoy a life of leisure—’
‘I’m not one.’
‘Then we’ll find a job for you.’
Gisèle put down the cup she’d been cradling, the chink of cup on saucer loud. ‘No need. I’d return to my old one.’
He shook his head. ‘It was under your watch, yours and your brother’s, that the company failed. You haven’t got what it takes to be CEO.’
Impatience brewed. Had she read his interest in her and decided he’d give her whatever she wanted? A chance to ruin the company a second time? She couldn’t believe him so foolish.
Surprisingly she didn’t look insulted or argumentative. She merely angled her head as if assessing a puzzle. ‘Not the CEO role. My job as head of the ethical sustainability unit. I established it and I’d like to continue its work.’
For the first time this morning, no, make that the first time in years, Adam felt underprepared and taken by surprise.
So much for his satisfaction with the report from his acquisitions team. His researchers had missed vital information. Fontaine’s advances in ethical research were part of the reason he’d been attracted to the takeover. He’d known Gisèle had worked in the area but imagined her in a minor position, perhaps as a glorified trainee.
But her position hadn’t been a sinecure because of her family connection. She really had contributed.
He sat back, annoyance at his ignorance vying with excitement. Each revelation about this woman only pleased him more. Even her determination to wrest concessions from him increased his respect.
‘You have a problem with me working in a serious job?’
‘None at all. So, those are your stipulations? An agreement to follow existing procedure for underperformance, a job for your brother and yourself?’
Her bright gaze held his. He sensed her wariness.
Of course she was wary. But when she knew him better she’d discover the benefits of his proposition. He looked forward to those benefits enormously. His mouth curved in anticipation.
She looked away. ‘There’s one more thing.’
Her chin tilted higher, leaving him with the impression she was nervous and determined not to show it. He scrutinised her, intrigued. ‘Go on.’
She turned and met his stare, her face perfectly composed. Which meant she hid something she didn’t want him to read. Every sense went on alert. This, he guessed, meant as much if not more than her other requests.
‘If I agree to marry, it would need to appear to everyone that it’s a real marriage.’
‘It will be a real marriage. It would be legally binding and I’ll expect you to sign a prenuptial contract.’
She shook her head. ‘You know what I mean. If we go to the town hall next week and marry, no one will believe it’s anything but a convenient business deal. They won’t take it seriously. I assume that’s not what you want.’
Adam hadn’t given much thought to the logistics of the wedding. He’d concentrated on its benefits. Acquiring the company and having Gisèle on his arm in public would satisfy his immediate requirements.
As for his growing physical needs, he looked forward to pursuing those in private.
But it was natural she wouldn’t want to be seen as simply part of the takeover, or as a sharp-eyed gold-digger who’d latched on to him for his wealth. Feminine pride meant she wanted the world to believe she’d conquered the man who’d bought the family company.
‘You want to pretend to be in love?’
He’d enjoy having her cosying up to him. It would provide ample opportunity to break down those barriers she erected around herself. Excitement stirred. He had every intention of making this a real marriage.
‘Unless you want people to believe you bought me as a company asset.’ Her eyes narrowed. ‘Or because you need someone to gloss over your rough edges at society events.’
His rough edges? He had plenty of those. Usually only his detractors mentioned them and not in his presence. Gisèle used them as a bargaining chip with the insouciance of someone who believed they held a winning hand.
He’d underestimated her and that was rare.
‘I don’t give a damn about my rough edges. People can take me as they find me.’
But it was intriguing she’d latched onto the fact he’d benefit from having her at his side. Her intuition was good, better than most people’s.
Curiosity rose. The more he learned, the less likely it seemed that she could have made so many faulty decisions managing the House of Fontaine. But running a large enterprise was different to running a research unit.
The main thing was that nothing, not her arguments or cool disdain, lessened his determination to have her.
Adam smiled, his mouth curling slowly. His eyes blazed with amusement. She told herself it couldn’t be approval.
The impact was devastating. Gone was the sharp-eyed tycoon, replaced by a man whose earthy charisma jolted free all her cautious arguments.
Her stomach dropped in freefall. A carnal shiver broke across her skin and she felt a melting between her thighs as if her sex turned to hot butter under that glint of sexual interest.
Or was it appreciation?
Either was problematic. She didn’t want to be appreciated by this man. Didn’t want him attracted. She breathed out, trying to find her equilibrium as her hands knotted.
You don’t like him.
You despise him.
You can’t be attracted to him.
Of course she wasn’t. Just as she was not fantasising about how those big square hands would feel on her breasts. Or whether those sturdy thighs were as iron hard as they looked. What would it be like to sit astride—?
No, no, no. Focus!
‘No one would believe the marriage real if it happened too fast. It would be obvious it’s a business strategy. Is that what you want?’
Gisèle held her breath, willing him to deny it.
Finally he shook his head the tiniest fraction and a sliver of hope pierced her frozen lungs.
Delay would give her time to come up with an alternative, because being married to a rapacious brute who believed he had the right to mess with people’s lives was impossible. Maybe, given time, he’d change his mind. When he got to know her and realised she wouldn’t pander to his massive ego. Yet she had to proceed carefully, lest he withdraw the funding that would save Fontaine’s.
He looked thoughtful. ‘You want a public wooing, is that it?’
‘I’ll settle for a period of public amity as if we’re getting acquainted. Unless you want us to be in the news for all the wrong reasons.’
‘You’re right,’ he said finally. ‘Taking over the company will require some time anyway. But...’ He fixed her with a penetrating gaze that to Gisèle’s alarm seemed to read her like a book. ‘We’ll sign a separate contract between us, spelling out our obligations. What you’ll gain on the marriage—you’ll find I can be generous. And there’ll be a penalty if you renege after signing.’
She repressed a dismayed gasp. She felt cornered, which was exactly what he wanted. He was even more ruthless than she’d heard, and devious. No wonder he was so successful.
‘You don’t trust my word?’
He was too clever. Of course he realised she’d be looking for some way out of the deal.
‘It’s not personal, sweetheart.’ Gisèle’s pulse thudded at the casual endearment, though she knew it meant nothing. ‘The days of doing deals on a handshake are over. I don’t leave anything to chance in business.’
There it was, spelt out clearly. A business marriage. Despite everything, relief rippled through her and her high shoulders dropped a little as her tension eased. If worse came to worst and she had to go through with this, at least it was only a business arrangement. There’d be nothing...personal between them.
‘If you’re drawing up a contract, I want it spelt out that you won’t let anyone learn it’s a marriage of convenience. I insist on it.’
‘Not even your brother?’
Gisèle’s heart stopped for a second. ‘Not even Julien. This is just between us.’
That was the most important condition of all. She couldn’t allow Julien to realise she’d sacrificed herself. He already felt guilty over the company, the weight wearing him down. Which he didn’t need if he were to make a full recovery.
Nothing mattered more than that.
The company they loved would be saved. Julien would still work there and once Adam Wilde saw him in action, he’d revise his negativity and give him a key role. Julien would have purpose and his pride and, hopefully, his health.
Beside that, the inconvenience to her didn’t matter. She’d work in the area she enjoyed. She’d have to keep Adam Wilde company in public but surely eventually familiarity would obliterate the fizz in her blood she felt around him.
Even if they lived under the same roof, it would be somewhere large enough to give them both privacy. He didn’t want her for herself. He saw her as a company asset.
She’d be a trophy, not a real wife.
The idea was anathema. She’d strived all her life to establish a sense of self-worth in a world that had judged her to be less when compared with her glamorous parents. Then she’d struggled to earn respect for her work and abilities.
This man swept that aside as unimportant. Gisèle had never truly hated anyone but she came close to hating the smug Australian.
At least she wasn’t in a relationship so there would be no complications explaining her sudden faux relationship. She couldn’t even remember the last time she’d dated.
She’d get through this and when Adam moved onto his next project, no doubt he’d be as ready as she to divorce.
He stretched his legs, lounging as if he didn’t have a care in the world. But the intent glitter in those mesmerising eyes betrayed that he was no idle tourist.
‘I can live with that stipulation,’ he murmured. ‘You have a bargain. I’ll get my team onto the paperwork immediately.’
Gisèle thrust down dismay. Despite the open-air setting she felt claustrophobic. But she couldn’t dwell on that. She’d won the concessions she needed. That had to be enough.
‘I look forward to reading it.’ She’d be searching for loopholes.
‘In the meantime, I’ll take you to lunch.’ His smile had a hungry quality that made her shiver. ‘I feel like celebrating our engagement.’