“I believe I told you to sit.” He stepped into the room and closed the door behind him.
“You can’t keep me here,” she said, her mouth suddenly dry. “This is kidnapping.”
His lips twitched into a mocking smile. “You came here of your own free will, Alessandra.”
It took every ounce of strength to hold her ground. “You blackmailed me into coming here.”
“I simply provided an incentive for you to pay me a visit.” He smirked. “As my guest.” He sauntered toward the fireplace, stopping in front of a small table that held an arrangement of crystal decanters. “Drink?”
Allie shook her head. “Do you lock all your guests in the study?”
“You would have preferred the tower?”
To her horror Allie realized he might not have been joking. Either way he didn’t wait for an answer to the absurd question. Instead he continued on as if the past few hours had been nothing more than a minor inconvenience.
“I had matters to attend to.” Julian filled a squat glass with ice, then lifted the top from one of the decanters and poured himself a hefty glass of vodka. “But I’m here now, so let’s, as you Americans are so fond of saying, get down to it, shall we?” His expression darkened when she didn’t comply. “Sit, Alessandra. Don’t make me say it again.”
Allie sank into one of the chairs in front of Julian’s desk. He passed by her in a cloud of sweet cologne mixed with the lingering stench of cigarette smoke. The combination made her stomach roll. When he reached his desk he fixed her with a hard stare. “I believe you have something of mine?”
She dug the leather ring box out of her purse and set it on the desk between them. He regarded her a moment, watching her over the rim of his glass as he sipped the vodka. Refusing to give him the satisfaction of knowing how he affected her, Allie fought the urge to look away.
After what seemed like an eternity, Julian finally reached for the box, holding it in one hand and pressing the lid open with his thumb. The late afternoon sun streaming in from the window behind him caught the facets of the stone, reflecting a brilliant white and blue. Despite what that ring had come to represent, Allie had to admit it was stunning. Twelve flawless carats, the diamond was truly one of a kind. A gift from Louis XIV to the first Marquis Laurent, the ring had been in Julian’s family for centuries and was one of his most prized possessions. Yet as he stared at his precious heirloom nestled in black satin, he remained impassive and quiet. Too quiet.
For several excruciating moments, the ticking from the clock on the mantel was the only sound in the room. Allie stole a glance at it, but Julian either didn’t notice or didn’t care. He sat motionless, his gaze trained on the box in his hand, focused but somehow unseeing at the same time. It was like he was a million miles away.
When he finally spoke, Allie let out a breath she hadn’t realized she’d been holding. “America’s royal wedding,” he mumbled before taking another sip from his glass. His voice was so low she wasn’t sure she’d heard him correctly.
“Excuse me?”
“That’s what the press was calling it.” Julian snapped the box closed and set it back on the desk. The distant look in his eyes was gone, and in its place was a venom so tangible Allie could almost feel it crawl across her skin. “You were too busy spreading your legs all over Chicago to notice, but our impending merger made headlines.”
Allie couldn’t help but cringe at his word choice. Merger, not marriage. And certainly not love. To him their entire relationship had been nothing more than a business transaction, one her parents had shrewdly and callously negotiated to save Ingram Media from bankruptcy. Julian was chosen because he was the most desirable bidder in her father’s eyes, not because he loved her. All of it had been a fraud. From the day they first met until the night he proposed, everything about their courtship had been a carefully orchestrated charade.
“I should be at the helm of Ingram right now. Not you and that stray who followed you home from the beach ten years later.” He took another sip of vodka and slowly licked his lower lip. “You must have been quite the fuck back then, because I certainly never experienced anything quite so . . . inspiring.”
Allie had heard enough. “You’ve got what you wanted, Julian. I brought the ring back. Just give me the memory card and we never have to see each other again.”
“Promises were made, Alessandra. Contracts signed. Money exchanged.”
“I had my lawyer return everything you paid my father.” Her voice was small. The fact that her father had taken money from Julian made her feel like the whore he’d once called her, bought and paid for.
Allie flinched at the sound of Julian’s fist pounding the desk.
“You think that makes this right?” he shouted. His face was red and a muscle ticked in his jaw.
A beat of tense silence passed between them.
“Look around you,” he ground out between clenched teeth. “I don’t need your money. What I need is a high-level entry into the American market. A conglomerate to add to the Laurent holdings. What I need,” he snarled, “is Ingram Media.”
Allie took deep breaths through her nose in an effort to slow her racing heart. Julian’s hair-trigger temper was amplified by the alcohol he was slugging back like water. She needed to remain calm, sympathize with him if that’s what it took. Anything to get the hell out of there. “I understand your frustration, Julian. But I don’t know what you expect me to do about any of this.”
Julian composed himself almost as quickly as he’d lost it. With a final gulp he finished off the vodka. Slowly and methodically, he set the glass on the desk and leaned back in the chair, resting his elbows on the arms and steepling his fingers in front of his mouth. “It’s quite simple, Alessandra. You’re going to become my wife.”
Chapter Three
Hudson’s fist landed against the door like a sledgehammer. He was way past giving some dainty wake-up call, providing the jet lag had wiped out the redhead. And based on the number of times he’d knocked on the door, it had. As he stood there waiting . . . and waiting, he glanced up and down the hallway of the pricey establishment. A couple of silver trays were parked outside the room next to Harper’s, and a housekeeper was making her way toward him carrying a fresh load of towels. He waited for her to pass before pounding the wood again.
The door finally swung open and the light from the hall sliced into the room. Harper’s lids squeezed shut against the blinding intrusion. Her hair was sticking up in every direction possible, and the second her eyes got with the waking up program, they widened. Goddamn, he thought they were going to pop out of her skull and roll across the carpet.
“What are you doing here?” She tightened the belt on her white terry cloth robe as he pushed past her into the room.
“I was about to ask you the same thing.”
“By all means,” she mumbled. “Come in.”
“Where’s Allie?”
“I thought she was with you.” She shut the door and finger-combed her hair. “I mean, aren’t you two in the middle of some over-the-top getaway?”
“We should be having cocktails in London by now.”
“Have you tried her cell?” Harper was doing her damnedest to avoid his direct line of questioning. He wasn’t surprised she was covering for Allie, but it was getting him good and pissed off.