‘Is this the treatment all your women receive?’ Jo joked as she smoothed down her skirts and preceded him into the restaurant.
‘No. You’re in a class of your own.’
Aside from hovering staff, there wasn’t a single other diner. Jo lifted a brow and settled down into the private booth. The lights were low, a candle burned and fresh flowers adorned the table. ‘Gosh, this feels like arealdate,’ she quipped.
‘It must be. You put lip gloss on,’ Gianni fielded silkily.
‘You should feel short-changed. Sybil tried to get me into false lashes and something she called a smoky eye,’ she revealed, dark blue eyes wide with amusement.
‘You don’t need them. I like the restrained, natural look.’
Says the man seduced by a corset and a thong, Jo thought wryly, but at least she didn’t make the mistake of saying it out loud.
‘Why’s it so quiet in here?’
‘The restaurant was fully booked but I wanted privacy for what I have to say to you,’ Gianni explained levelly. ‘Next week the diners we displaced will enjoy their meal at my expense.’
As the wine arrived, along with a selection of tiny tasters and plates, Jo swallowed hard and pinched her thigh to keep herself alert. She knew that she had to stay on top form to deal with Gianni.
‘What on earth do you need privacy for?’ she asked bluntly, rebelling against the insidious intimacy of their setting.
‘Will you listen to my proposition without interrupting me?’
‘I’ll try.’ Jo lifted her wine glass, suddenly all of a quiver with nerves.
‘The consequences of the scandal I caused mean that I require a wife,’ Gianni told her wryly. ‘I need to be seen to be settling down to retain my position as CEO of Renzetti Inc, otherwise I’ve been warned that I’ll be voted out at the end of the month. You strike me as perfect wife material.’
Jo gulped but she couldn’t find her voice to interrupt. She was stunned by that assurance and flattered as well, although the part of her that felt gratified was feeling that way very much against her will. Her attention clung to the mesmeric tawny golden glow of his black-fringed eyes in the candlelight, the shadows cast below his slanting cheekbones and the lush pink of his full lower lip.
‘I won’tloanyou the money you need,cara. I’m telling you that upfront,’ Gianni spelt out with perfect diction as he helpfully divided up the tasters on the platter and served her. ‘What would be the point of giving you a loan that you couldn’t afford to repay?’
She drank down her wine to ease her dry throat and inside her chest her heart thumped at a fast drumbeat. He was giving it all to her, piece by piece, breaking the situation down into what he probably saw as manageable chunks. Didn’t he realise that labelling her as ‘perfect wife material’ simply blew a giant hole in her concentration? The idea of marrying Gianni Renzetti struck her as so incredible that she was wondering if she had somehow misunderstood him at some point during that speech.
‘You’re in so much debt that even the sale of the lakeshore land wouldn’t turn the situation around,’ Gianni told her succinctly. ‘I suspect that your bank must be close to considering foreclosure.’
Jo only just contrived to suppress a shudder, but their bank had given her the same impression when she had had the temerity to ask for a new loan. Her family’s financial situation was dire. Insufficient money coming in and too many bills had sent the overdraft climbing the previous winter and she heaved a sigh.
‘I feel like such a failure,’ she muttered tightly.
‘You’re not a failure. Previous generations of your family neglected the property. That house has been in decline for many years and a full-scale restoration is probably required now. Are you struggling to hang onto the house for your grandmother’s benefit?’
Jo grimaced and shook her head. ‘No. I’m more selfish. Ladymead has been in the family for hundreds of years. I don’t want to be the one to lose it. I know once it’s gone, it’s gone for ever. I also know that even though it’s in poor condition I love every historic nook and cranny in that building,’ she confessed ruefully. ‘My earliest memories are of Grandad taking me round Ladymead and sharing his recollections ofhischildhood.’
Gianni studied her lovely face in the low light, the plush peach curve of her lower lip as she worried at it with the edge of her teeth, and an almost blinding surge of lust tightened every muscle in his long lean body. He topped up her wine and rested back in his seat, suppressing that arousal with all his strength.
‘My next question has to be are youwillingto marry me to keep Ladymead in your family?’ he asked levelly. ‘If you marry me I will finance the restoration of the house. I will cover every necessary expense and ensure your family’s security and comfort.’
Jo blinked rapidly and began to eat in haste, needing that simple act to ground herself again. What Gianni was offering was the fulfilment of her wildest dreams. She would be able to stop worrying and give up trying to work every hour of the day while trying to dream up new ways to make or save money. In addition, her family would be safe and secure and freed from the same anxiety.
‘Gianni...you haven’t thought this through.’
‘On the contrary, I’ve thought very deeply about it.’
‘Why me?’ she demanded helplessly. ‘I mean, there must be so many women who would be eager to marry you.’
‘I need your respectability and you need my money, but you’re not a gold-digger. That is an important distinction for me,’ he admitted as the main course was brought to their table.
‘What sort of marriage are you talking about?’ Jo enquired uncertainly.