He wouldn’t allow himself to believe her, no matter how much he might want to. “Fine. Play innocent. It doesn’t matter.”
Her fists landed on the plush back of the chair. “I am not playing innocent. I am ignorant of what my father did to your family’s company once he gained control, or why he would destroy something he obviously wanted so badly.”
Her wide eyes pleaded with his, open, unguarded. He huffed out a breath. Swore.
“Sagrantino grapes are prized throughout Italy and the world and my family’s winery grew the best. It was our legacy but few had heard of us outside of Italy because we couldn’t produce enough to satisfy world demand.” A muscle pulsed along his lean jaw. “That’s why I sought your father out. I needed financial backing as well as a noted exporter who could place our wine worldwide. Once he had wrested control of my family’s company, he destroyed it with gross mismanagement.”
“I’m so sorry he did that to you.”
“As am I, because his impatience and ignorance destroyed the vineyard.”
It was time to let the past drop into the black hole of his memories and hammer the lid back on it. He was in control of all that David Tate had owned. That evened the score as far as he was concerned.
As for Delanie, she was back in his life only because of his vow to please his sister. Once she finished planning the wedding, it would be better for both of them if they never saw each other again.
“Your small company has achieved a degree of favorable notoriety,” he said.
She gave him a long appraising look. “I’m surprised you noticed.”
“It was brought to my attention.”
His gaze drilled into hers as she stood behind her father’s chair. “I’m giving you the chance to gain sole ownership of Elite Affair, debt-free, by successfully planning a lavish carte blanche wedding that will be photographed and reported worldwide.”
She went absolutely still, eyes widening like saucers. “Why are you willing to hire me with our history between us?”
It was a sound question, especially considering what he’d done—storming the citadel and winning. “You are my sister’s choice because of your company’s promise to work with the bride to make her wedding special. Every plan you do is unique.”
She crossed her arms beneath her bosom and gave the most unladylike snort, as if his compliment meant nothing to her and that almost made him smile. “Does your bride know that you are entrusting arrangements for her wedding to your former lover?”
He shook his head and let a rusty chuckle escape. This bolder side of Delanie was a welcome switch from the demure girl he’d known.
“I am not that trusting,” he admitted. “The bride is my sister, Bella, and she wants someone who will understand her needs and abide by her wishes. She needs your special touch, Delanie.”
Her eyes widened again and the faintest flush stole over her cheekbones. “I wasn’t aware you had a sister.”
“I didn’t know myself until eight years ago.” His hand cut the air, dismissing the topic from further inquiry. “It is complicated.”
“I’ve discovered that many families are ‘complicated’ in ways that have some impact on an upcoming wedding,” she said. “That’s one reason we are selective in our clientele.”
“Is that the only reason why you turned Bella down when she attempted to hire you two weeks ago?” he asked.
Her too-pale lips parted. “You can’t be thinking that I knew she was your sister, because I swear that isn’t the case. And even if I had known, my assistant handles all the initial calls. The moment he discovered the wedding was to take place in Italy, he would have politely declined and wished her well.”
Which, according to Bella, is exactly what had happened. “So what will it be? Your agreement to plan Bella’s wedding for title to your company or do we part company now?”
She bit her lip and frowned, then huffed out a breath and nodded as if coming to grips with her decision. “I’ll do it. I’ll have Henry send a contract to your solicitor by the weekend and we can go from there.”
“That’s too late. The wedding is two weeks from now.”
“That’s not nearly enough time,” she sputtered. “Two months is not sufficient to orchestrate such a lavish affair.”
“If we wait two months it will be clear why the bride is marrying so quickly. Understand?”
Her cheeks flushed a charming pink but she gave a jerky nod. “Yes. Well. That doesn’t leave us much time.”
“No,” he said. “I had my attorney draft a contract for your review. Once you sign we can be off.”
She stiffened up again. “We?”
“I’m in a time crunch and must return to Italy tonight. You’ll come with me and oversee the details there.”
“I can’t,” she said in a strained voice he’d never heard before, that touched something kindred in him. “My business and assistants are here.”
“There is nothing that can’t be done via the internet or phone,” he said. “You’ll have the best of both at your disposal.”
She cupped her palms to her face, her slender shoulders trembling once. Twice.
That tremor had him fisting his hands to keep from reaching out to her, enfolding her slender form against his length. And that would be a mistake for then she would know how much she’d affected him.
Dammit, he wasn’t going to let her get to him.
“Your answer, Delanie,” he said. “Do you come with me? Or is the deal off?”
She pressed her lips together, throat working. “After all that has happened between us, do you honestly expect me to trust you and drop everything?”
“Yes, because I am entrusting you to organize the most important day in my sister’s life.”
She looked away, stilled, then she bobbed her head and he hoped to hell that meant she understood, that she would cease fighting him.
“I prefer my own contract,” she said.
“As do I.”
Her chin came up again and her gaze clashed with his. Only the tremor in her lower lip belied her total control.
“My contract is designed for my purposes but you are entitled to make minor changes to it if you like,” she said.
He most certainly would do that. Ever since the disaster of dealing with David Tate, Marco had learned to manage his own affairs to the letter.
But this concession was doable. Perhaps even wise, for he would know what she expected and would be able to mount a countermove if necessary.
This time he held control and he would have Delanie close at hand again. And why the hell was he entertaining any thought of being close to her again?
His gaze raked over her, his brow furrowing. The black dress she wore encased the petite figure he remembered with aching clarity. She appeared gaunt and fragile. A deception, he was certain.
Marco paced to the heavily draped window and swore, painfully aware of what was at the heart of it. She’d intrigued him from the start. She still did.
But that didn’t matter now. It was all in the past, and it would stay there. He had control over that part of him now.
Having her in Italy would prove that. By the time his sister was a happily married woman, Marco would have no doubt in his mind that