“So how long has it been since you left for London?” he asked as she passed him the cup and saucer.
“Five years.”
“You were twenty when you left. That’s young to be in a big city by yourself.”
“I wasn’t by myself,” she said, and just for a moment his breath stopped at the thought of her living with another man. “I have an aunt who lives there, so I stayed with her for a few years. Then I got my own place.” She picked up her own cup and saucer but didn’t drink from it. “Our fathers are friends. I’m sure your father would have told you all this.”
“He probably did,” he said without thinking, angry at himself for caring even for a moment that she may have lived with some guy.
“But you didn’t bother to listen, right?”
He didn’t like being put on the spot like that. He was usually the one putting people on the spot. “It’s been five years. I’d probably forgotten it long ago.”
She held his gaze for a moment. “I’m sure.” Her tone made him stiffen but before he could analyze her response, she put her coffee cup down on the table. “Now. Please give me the message from your father. I need to get back to work.”
Fine. So did he.
He placed his own cup on the table, then leaned back on the sofa, giving himself a full view of her face. He needed to see her reaction. “It’s not a message exactly. It’s more a request.”
Her smooth brow crinkled in a frown. “He wants me to do something?”
“Yes.” He paused, trying to find the words that had been going over and over in his head all night. “Did he tell you he and my mother are moving into a smaller place in the city?”
She blinked in surprise. “No, he didn’t.” Her forehead cleared. “So that’s why he wants me to redecorate. He’s planning on selling.”
“No, he’s not selling. He wants to keep it in the family. He wants me to have it.”
Her eyes lit up, making her look even more beautiful. “Oh, that’s wonderful, Nick. This place is gorgeous. I’ve always loved coming here.”
Something wavered inside him. “Then perhaps you’d like to stay.”
Her enthusiasm paused. “What do you mean? Rent it from you or something?”
“I mean share it with me.”
“Sh…share it with you?” she all but squeaked.
“He wants me to marry you, Sasha.”
She sucked in a sharp breath, then slowly let it out. “Good Lord.”
His sentiments exactly. His father’s ultimatum had been one of the few times in his life he’d had the rug pulled out from under him. He didn’t like the feeling. Not one bit.
“Why?” she said in amazement after a moment or two.
“He wants to give me this house to carry on the Valente name but he knows I don’t want to settle down so he’s blackmailing me. If I don’t marry you he’ll give the house to Matt.”
She shook her head. “No, this place doesn’t suit Matt. It suits you.”
He warmed to her.
“But Nick, I don’t understand why he’s chosen me for your wife.”
He shrugged. “For some reason he thinks you’re perfect for me.”
Her eyes softened. “He does?” Then she stiffened and began to shift uneasily. “That’s sweet of him, but we both know that’s ridiculous. I’ve just come along at the right time, that’s all.”
“It seems that way,” he agreed, happy to see she had a clear head on her shoulders. This was going to be easier than he’d expected. They wouldn’t have to get mixed up with all the emotional trappings other married couples had to worry about.
“So what are you going to do, Nick?”
“Marry you.”
The blood drained from her face but she soon gathered herself together. “Oh, really?”
He’d made up his mind to do this, and he didn’t expect any resistance to the idea. “He’s dead serious, Sasha. He wants a Valente to live in this house, and he wants our families to be joined.”
She shook her head. “No, Nick.”
“I don’t like it any more than you do. Frankly, marriage was never in my cards. I like being single.”
“So do I.”
That surprised him. Career women or not, most of his lady friends had wanted more than a sexual relationship. Most had wanted marriage, despite their declarations that they didn’t.
“You may not know this, but my father had a heart attack six months ago. It was only a mild one,” he assured her, seeing her slight alarm, “but he’s worried he’ll have a major one and won’t see me married before then. That’s why he’s come up with this plan.”
“Nick, I’m sorry about his heart attack, but I can’t do this.”
His mouth tightened. “Then this place will go to Matt. I suggest you get ready for some heavy modernization when you redecorate.”
She winced. “Talk to your father, Nick. He may let you marry someone else.”
All at once he didn’t want any other woman. “I know my father. He won’t want anyone but you. He can be stubborn.”
“So can I.”
“Sasha, look—”
She sprang to her feet. “Nick, stop it.” Then she straightened her shoulders, her eyes showing a spirit only hinted at while growing up. “Now, if you don’t mind, I need to get on with the job, no matter whom the redecoration is for.”
She hurried out the door, her high heels clicking on the timber floor as she headed down the hallway toward the kitchen.
Nick sat back on the sofa and contemplated what had just happened. There weren’t many women who would actually refuse to marry him. Hell, he didn’t think there were any.
But if he was getting married then so was Sasha Blake.
To him.
He just had to find a way to make it happen.
He smiled grimly. Making things happen was one thing a Valente did extremely well.
Two
S asha finished taking measurements at the Valente mansion, then left as soon as she could. She kept expecting to turn around and find Nick there, ready to pressure her into marriage.
A marriage he didn’t want.
And neither did she.
So why was she worried? With his father giving his stamp of approval she was just a convenience, that’s all. Nick would go find someone else to marry, and Cesare wouldn’t really care as long as it was someone suitable.