‘But a loveless marriage…’ Her eyes communicated her anguish. ‘Ella’s just a baby now but it won’t be long before she’s old enough to see things are not quite right between her parents. No amount of money can compensate for that. Surely you see that?’
Luca placed his hands on her shoulders, holding her gaze with his. ‘We will work at our relationship. There is no doubt of the attraction that still exists between us. That is a good enough basis to start from.’
‘You’re asking me to give up everything,’ she said, still with that worried look in her slate-blue eyes. ‘I have so much more to lose than you. I will be alone in Italy. I don’t speak the language, or at least only a few words here and there. What if your family doesn’t take to me? Have you thought of that? I have never met them. They will no doubt be just as angry as you are about Ella being kept a secret all this time.’
Luca dropped his hands from her shoulders. ‘It won’t be easy. I am the first to admit that. I will do what I can to make things go as smoothly as possible. My family will accept you. I will make sure of that. They will adore Ella and in time may come to adore you too. It will take time. You will have to be patient.’
He put some distance between them before he spoke again. ‘I will compensate you handsomely for marrying me. I will have an agreement set up by my financial and legal people. That should help dissolve some of your current doubts.’
Bronte screwed up her forehead in a frown. ‘You think you can pay me to be your wife? You think I can be bought?’
The look he gave her was cynical. ‘One thing I have learned through business is that everyone has a price. I am sure you have one too.’
She glared back at him furiously. ‘You think you can afford me?’ she asked, not caring if she was goading him too far.
His top lip curled upwards with the same cynicism she saw reflected in his gaze. ‘Name your price,’ he said.
Bronte threw a figure at him, an astonishingly exorbitant sum that would have made most men flinch in response. Luca’s expression was mask-like. It showed no emotion. It was as if they were discussing a business transaction.
‘Fine,’ he said. ‘I will make sure the funds are deposited in your bank account as soon as possible. You will need to give me your banking details, unless you would like me to write you a cheque here and now.’
Bronte scribbled her details down on a piece of paper, a war going on inside her over what she had just done. She had sold herself. Her future was now in his hands. She handed him the note, her eyes not quite able to hold his. ‘I will need to give the parents of my students some notice,’ she said.
‘I am sure your business partner will be able to see to everything,’ he said. ‘I want us to be in Italy at the end of the month. I want our marriage to be conducted at the family hotel in Milan. That way, all of my relatives can be there. It is too far for my elderly grandfather to travel all the way to Australia.’
Bronte’s eyes flew back to his. ‘Are you out of your mind? I can’t possibly tie up everything here in less than three weeks!’
‘I am a busy man, Bronte,’ he said. ‘I have commitments here that will now have to be put on hold until we get back.’
She frowned again. ‘So you’re expecting me to follow you back and forth across the globe?’
His eyes challenged her to defy him. ‘That is what most loving wives would do, is it not?’
It took Bronte a moment to catch on. ‘You… you want me to pretend our marriage is normal?’
‘But of course,’ he said.
She folded her arms crossly. ‘That’s out of the question. I won’t do it.’
‘It is not negotiable, Bronte,’ he said. ‘I will not be made an object of ridicule the world over for having a wife who hates the sight of me. You will at all times and in all places maintain the guise of a devoted wife.’
Bronte fumed as she stood facing him. ‘Is this marriage going to be an exclusive arrangement or are you going to continue with your philandering ways?’
He held her gaze for an interminable pause. ‘That, cara, will depend entirely on you,’ he said. ‘Why would I stray if all my needs are being met at home?’
‘And what about my needs?’ she asked, giving him a glowering look.
He picked up his car keys and made his way to the door before he answered. ‘I think I showed you only a few minutes ago how effectively I can meet your needs.’ His dark eyes ran over her from head to foot, undressing her, caressing her, tempting her all over again. ‘As my wife, Bronte, you will want for nothing.’
He closed the door on his exit and Bronte finally let out the breath she hadn’t even realised she had been holding.
You will want for nothing, he had said. But what about what she wanted most of all? No amount of money was going to buy her the love she so desperately craved.
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