“Mr. Parlatore, sir. I have the paperwork you requested.” He sets his briefcase on the edge of Stone’s desk and opens it, sliding a thick file to him.
Stone leans back in his chair and steeples his fingers under his chin as he keeps his piercing stare on me. The air in the room is uncomfortable for all of us. Well, at least for the tall guy and me. He stands in awkward silence as I return Stone’s stare. I won’t let him intimidate me.
I cock my head to the side and cross my arms, lifting my brow in an air of feigned confidence. He frightens me, but there is a side of him I sense hiding under the layer of Italian designer suits and breath-taking cologne.
Now that Mama is safe and I know I won’t be returned to Lorenzo, I can let my guard down. A little.
Stone taps his finger against his chin, and I swear I see a grin appear, if only for a millisecond. “Frederick, this is...Callista Parisi.” He pierces me with those baby blue eyes again as if to say, Don’t fuck this up.
“Miss Parisi,” Frederick says, turning to me. “I have some paperwork for you to review and sign before your wedding.”
Wedding?I’m not one to fantasize about a big party and long, flowy white dress, but I sure as hell haven’t ever dreamed of a marriage of convenience. Not that this is convenient for me. I still have no idea what Stone is getting out of it. Some vendetta against Lorenzo. Or is it Antonio? Do they have a pissing match and marrying me is a way to put Stone on top?
No, I doubt that. I’m not that much of a prize.
Frederick looks to Stone for guidance, who gives a curt nod without even opening the files. The lawyer or business partner or whatever he is picks up the files and crosses the room to me, placing them on the table in-between the two leather chairs. He opens it, taking out a pen from the inside pocket of his coat which he then hands to me.
“If you’ll sign where I’ve indicated.” He flips through the stack of papers, pointing out the blue tabs next to the signature boxes.
“Don’t I get to read through it first?”
“Sign it,” Stone barks from behind his desk.
I don’t like to be bossed around like a little girl. I spent eighteen years of my life being treated like a worthless human being, only good for dressing up and making Lorenzo Parisi look like the quintessential family man.
Ignoring Frederick, I toss the pen to the table and stand, crossing the room to the massive desk and the pompous man sitting behind it. I grip the edge of the desk and lean toward Stone. “I’m not signing anything until I know what I’m getting myself into,” I whisper harshly so Frederick can’t hear me.
“Out,” he orders, to me or Frederick, I’m not sure, but then I hear the door close behind me. The vein in his forehead reveals itself under pressure.
Pressure I cause. Stone rises to his feet and wraps his hands around both my arms, pushing me back against the row of windows.
“Don’t ever question me, especially in front of my employees,” he grits the words between his teeth.
My chest rises and falls between pants of air. His massive body presses up against mine, giving me no space to breathe. I can’t let him see my fear. Men like him prey on it. Reaching deep into my gut, searching for the confidence I pretend to have, I scowl back at him.
“If it’s some stupid prenuptial agreement, I don’t care. I don’t want your money. I don’t want you. I don’t want any of this. All I want is my mother’s and my safety.”
“I already told you she was safe. You saw for yourself.”
“So why the paperwork? What’s this all about? Why do you want to marry me? It sure as hell isn’t for the sex because I’m not giving it to you. You can put that in the paperwork, then I’ll sign.”
Stone presses his body even harder against mine and I swear I feel him grow thick and hard. My eyes open wide with fear and...no, not excitement. I don’t want Stone in any way, shape, or form.
“As my wife, there will be...obligations.”
I swallow the lump of fear in my throat. I’m not sure if it is Stone I fear or my racing heart. “I don’t sleep with men who whore around.”
I get the clenched jaw this time. I inwardly smile at being able to piss him off. Our gazes lock as a million thoughts run through his mind. I haven’t a clue what he is thinking, or even the direction of his thoughts, but I know I got to him.
My breathing slows and he relaxes his hold on my arms but doesn’t let me go. His gaze drops to my lips, and I unconsciously part them. Not for a kiss. I don’t want him to kiss me. I don’t want him to touch me even though I ache where his hard center held me captive.
If he had ground his cock against me or rubbed his hands against my breasts, I would have kneed him in the balls. At least, I’d like to think I would have. But he didn’t. And I didn’t. Finally, Stone releases me, stepping back and taking a seat behind his desk again.
The vein is back, and his breathing still isn’t stable. I have no idea what just happened between us. A test of wills. A stand down. A truce. I don’t know. Stone holds his cards close to his chest. I have no other option than to trust him. Knowing I’m not going to get the real reason behind this imposturous marriage, I take the high road, but not without some negotiating of my own.
Brushing out the pretend wrinkles in my crumpled top, I return to my seat as well, head held high. “I’ll sign your stupid papers as long as you add one amendment.”
He waits a beat—Stone is too good with the dramatic pause—then asks, “And what exactly would that be?”