Oddly, Daniele preferred the more natural version of Paloma. He suspected that few people got to see the intensely private young woman who had shunned the jet-set lifestyle for which her father, a notorious playboy, had been renowned. But in the wake of her grandfather’s death, Paloma was one of the richest women in the world and her life would be spent in a goldfish bowl, the subject of constant public scrutiny.
She halted a few steps above the bottom of the staircase and her face was level with Daniele’s. Her glistening red lips curved into a smile that did not quite reach her eyes. ‘It’s nearly showtime,’ she murmured. ‘The guests will start arriving in half an hour.’
She held up her left hand so that the light from the chandelier above them caused the diamonds surrounding the sapphire ring to catch fire. ‘Thanks to the press statement you gave, the news of our engagement is all over the media.’
‘We agreed that it would be better to make the announcement before tonight’s event,’ he reminded her.
‘I know,’ she said heavily. ‘But it makes it seem real. Only our engagement isn’t real, and neither will our marriage be genuine. I feel guilty that we are playing a huge confidence trick.’
He shrugged. ‘It’s either that or allow Franco Zambrotta to seize control of Morante Group.’
Colour winged along Paloma’s high cheekbones. ‘You will also benefit from our marriage bargain.’
‘I don’t deny that having you as my wife will open doors and give me access to contacts and networking opportunities to further my business interests.’ He would no longer be regarded as one of the nouveau riche when he married the granddaughter of a marchese, Daniele thought cynically.
He had been intrigued when he’d skimmed his eyes down the guest list and seen that a new name had been added. The Conte Farnesi had paid a small fortune for the last ticket to the charity ball. Had the news of his engagement to Paloma been the reason his half-brother had decided to attend tonight? Daniele mused.
‘I have arranged for us to have a drink before the party starts,’ he told Paloma as he opened the door for her to precede him into the drawing room. The butler popped the cork on a bottle of champagne and filled two flutes before withdrawing from the room. Daniele took a velvet box from the mantelpiece and gave it to Paloma. ‘Open it,’ he instructed when she gave him a puzzled look.
‘Oh, it’s exquisite,’ she murmured. The choker was made of three circles of white gold with dozens of teardrop diamonds attached to each circle.
‘I guessed you would wear the earrings your grandfather gave you on your twenty-first birthday and I had the necklace designed to match them.’ Daniele lifted the choker out of the box and stood behind Paloma so that he could fasten it around her neck. The diamonds looked breathtaking against her creamy skin, as he’d known they would.
‘Thank you,’ she murmured. Her eyes met his in the mirror. ‘I get the feeling that the necklace is a statement of possession, and perhaps a demonstration of your wealth to stop any gossip that you are marrying me for money.’
He looked away from her too perceptive gaze and lifted his glass. ‘A toast to the memory of Marcello and to the continued success of Morante Group under your leadership.’
Paloma sipped her champagne before she took a piece of paper out of her handbag. ‘I devised a questionnaire for both of us to answer.’ At his querying look, she explained, ‘We will need to know personal details about each other so that we can make our relationship seem convincing. The first question is, how do you like your coffee? I know the answer. You have yours black with one sugar.’
‘And you drink your coffee without milk or sugar.’
‘I do in the morning, but in the afternoon I prefer a latte, and before bed I like jasmine tea, decaffeinated. We are supposed to be lovers and you should know these things about me,’ she insisted when he frowned.
‘If we were lovers, I guarantee you would not want to drink tea when I took you to bed,’ he growled. A scarlet stain appeared on Paloma’s cheeks. He had never known a woman who blushed so readily, Daniele brooded. Paloma’s air of innocence was odd, considering that she had been married.
‘What is your favourite food?’ she asked quickly.
‘Sushi.’
‘So is mine. That ties in nicely with our cover story. We need to get the details of our supposed romance straight,’ she said when his brows rose. ‘It will be easier if we say that we met in London. You were there on business and we met by chance in a bar. For our first date you took me to a sushi restaurant.’
‘You have clearly given this a lot of thought.’
‘Do you have a better suggestion? We can hardly admit to people that we made a soulless marriage bargain so I can take control of my grandfather’s company and you might win your mother’s affection.’
Her words hit a nerve. ‘What are the other questions?’ Daniele asked curtly.
‘What about your past relationships?’ She grimaced. ‘You know that I am divorced. Have you been married?’
‘No.’
‘Ever come close?’
‘Not within a million miles.’
Paloma’s long, curling eyelashes swept upwards and her vivid blue eyes searched his face. ‘Why do you push people away? Do you shun close relationships because you are afraid of being hurt like you were when your mother abandoned you?’
‘Dio!I don’t need your amateur psychoanalysis,’ he grated. ‘It’s none of your business that I have never felt an inclination to marry.’