‘I’m in need of a wife.’
The statement was made so nonchalantly that Victoria wondered if she had heard Antonio correctly. ‘Sorry, did you say…a wife?’
He smiled. ‘Don’t look so worried. This is a marriage for business purposes only.’
Victoria shook her head and tried to gather her senses up from the fragmented emotions whirling inside her. She knew full well that Antonio Cavelli could have any woman he pleased. ‘So…run this by me again. Why exactly do you need a wife? And why are you asking me to do this?’
‘I’m asking you because you’re convenient. I’m in need of a ready-made family for a short-term period, without any strings or complications. You will do nicely.’ He reached for the calendar on his desk. ‘It’s a case of being in the right place at the right time,’ he added with a smile as he flicked through the pages.
‘Lucky me, then.’ Her voice was low and tight as she fought to suppress the anger rising inside her…
Kathryn Ross was born in Zambia, where her parents happened to live at that time. Educated in Ireland and England, she now lives in a village near Blackpool, Lancashire. Kathryn is a professional beauty therapist, but writing is her first love. As a child she wrote adventure stories, and at thirteen was editor of her school magazine. Happily, ten writing years later, DESIGNED WITH LOVE was accepted by Mills & Boon®. A romantic Sagittarian, she loves travelling to exotic locations.
Recent titles by the same author:
THE MEDITERRANEAN’S WIFE BY CONTRACT
KEPT BY HER GREEK BOSS
THE ITALIAN’S UNWILLING WIFE
Italian Marriage: In Name Only
by
Kathryn Ross
MILLS & BOON
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CHAPTER ONE
‘SO WHAT’S the script on this place?’ Antonio Cavelli asked his accountant as the limousine pulled up outside the glass-fronted restaurant.
Tom Roberts referred to his notes. ‘We purchased the building last summer, the leaseholder is one Victoria Heart. So far she has turned down two offers from us to buy her out, so we’ve increased her rent. She’s now struggling to remain open. So I think she’ll sign on the dotted line this time.’
Antonio frowned. He’d just flown in from his office in Verona, and he’d only been in Australia for a few hours but already he was questioning Tom’s handling of his business. ‘This should have been a straightforward purchase,’ he growled. ‘And we are now six months down the line—what are you playing at?’
The accountant’s face turned an interesting shade of purple and he brushed a hand nervously through his thinning hair. ‘It’s all under control, I assure you,’ he muttered nervously. ‘We’ve had a few problems, I know…but…’
Antonio’s mobile phone rang and he halted Tom’s stuttering apologies midsentence as he saw that it was his lawyer on the line. Right now he had more pressing problems than the simple takeover of an insignificant little restaurant. Right now the whole future of his company was hanging in the balance, as his father attempted to play out the most bizarre and ridiculous charade in order to bend him to his will.
Antonio’s mouth tightened in an angry line. Nobody told him what to do, he thought as he snapped open the phone. Nobody—least of all the one man in the world for whom he felt nothing but contempt.
‘Ricardo, have you got good news for me?’ He switched to his native Italian language as he addressed his lawyer.
The silence at the other end of the line was answer enough.
‘I’ve been through all our options a million times, Antonio,’ the lawyer said finally, his voice heavy with regret. ‘And there’s not much we can do. We could take him to court—human rights, and all. But in my opinion all that’s going to do is make for one hell of a media splash. You’ll be sensationalizing the family’s personal business, opening up the rift between you and your father for the world’s scrutiny, and at the end of the day we probably won’t win. The fact of the matter is that you may have built up the company into the success story it is today, but your father still owns sixty percent of Cavelli Enterprises. It’s his to do what he wants with.’
Antonio’s dark eyes flared with fire. He didn’t care if the entire world knew what he thought of his father, but he did care that it would be opening up his mother’s name to the humiliation of the past—and he couldn’t do that. She’d suffered enough at the hands of his father already. Her memory should be left with dignity.
So how should he handle this? As Antonio’s anger simmered, his sharp business mind kicked in to look for an answer. He wasn’t going to allow his father to win this battle. Luc Cavelli may be the chairman of the company but he was a mere figurehead these days—Antonio was the brain, the one who had turned his father’s provincial chain of Italian hotels into a global success story. He smiled to himself, because he had done so very much against his father’s will. Luc hadn’t wanted to expand the company—he had liked being a big fish in a small pond, able to control and manipulate everyone. But Antonio had forced his hand when he’d inherited his mother’s shares, had dragged the company forward and had enjoyed doing it—had enjoyed seeing his father get further and further out of his depth until he was floundering.
So what now? He could call his father’s bluff, sell his forty percent and walk away, leaving the old man to follow through with his threat and sell off the rest of the company. He would find it wasn’t worth as much without him at the helm, anyway. But why should he, he thought furiously, when he had put so many years of his life into building it all up? ‘There will be a way around this.’ He spoke in a low tone, almost to himself.
‘Well, if there is I can’t see it. I’ve read your father’s correspondence to you and the bottom line, Antonio, is that if you are not married and have not produced a child by the time you are thirty-five your father will sell his shares. He thinks that, as you are his only son, you have a duty to ensure the future of the Cavelli family. He also says that he wants to see you happily settled down.’
A curl of contempt swirled inside of Antonio. What a hypocrite! This was the man who had walked out on him and his mother when he’d been just ten years of age. He hadn’t given a damn about family commitment back then, had been too busy humiliating his wife by parading his string of mistresses in public.
‘He seems very determined,’ his lawyer added softly.
‘Yes, well, not as determined as I am to thwart him.’
‘Hmm…’ There was a moment’s silence. ‘The good news is that if you do comply with his wishes he will immediately sign over all of his shares