Page 3 of The Proposal

I shift my attention to the older sister next. The one I’m eager to meet. She’s pushed her sunglasses up to rest atop her head, and when our gazes lock, I’m momentarily struck by not only her beauty but the depth of her exquisite green eyes.

“It’s lovely to meet you, Arabella,” I say, extending my hand to her. She regards it as though it’s unworthy of her touch, leaving it to dangle in the void like a soul condemned to purgatory.

She finally takes it only when her father clears his throat, but barely. The tips of her fingers graze mine for the briefest moment before she quickly pulls away, wiping her hand on the side of her dress as if I’ve somehow contaminated her.

What the fuck?

I’m not used to being so openly disregarded by anyone, let alone a beautiful woman, but it’s clear the beauty only runs skin deep with this one. Beneath that polished exterior lies a sharp, dismissive arrogance that cuts deeper than any imperfection she might hide.

Her look is laced with utter disdain, instantly putting me on edge. This woman doesn’t even know me; how dare she pass such judgement?

“Leave us,” their father commands with a dismissive flick of his hand, and the women quickly scurry off.

I retake my seat once we’re alone again, feeling slightly rattled by that encounter.

Stefano’s gaze hardens, his eyes narrowing as he leans forward, his voice low but unmistakably sharp. “You looked at my older daughter differently than Lucia,” he says, his words slicing through the silence like a blade.

“I’m not sure what you mean.”

“I saw the way you looked at her, Dante. Don’t play coy with me. Do you think I don’t see how men like you look at Arabella? It’s the same way they used to look at her mother until her untimely passing.”

He says that last part so flippantly. If there is any truth to him murdering her, it just shows how cold-hearted and ruthless he is. Does Arabella get those traits from her father?

I meet his stare without flinching, my expression guarded, but something in his eyes tells me he’s not about to let this go. The tension between us thickens, but he presses on relentlessly.

“I don’t take kindly to any man, especially one with your reputation, making eyes at my daughter. Arabella’s not someprize to be claimed or some object to be ogled. Do you understand me?”

I nod, trying to steady my pulse. The knot in my stomach tightens because I don’t know where he’s going with this, but there’s a heaviness in his words.

“I understand,” I say, keeping my tone neutral as my mind races. “I’m sorry if I offended you or your daughter.”

I’ll admit I felt an instant attraction, but now that I’ve met her and witnessed her iciness, I’ve lost interest, so he doesn’t need to worry. I prefer my women warm, with a fire in their eyes and a spirit that matches the heat they bring. Cold and distant is unappealing.

Stefano leans back, watching me. His calculating gaze is reminiscent of his daughter’s.

The air between us feels charged with something I can’t quite place. “Perhaps it’s time we think about a different kind of arrangement.”

“Like what?” I ask.

“A union. A bond between our families.”

“Isn’t that what we already have?”

“No, I mean a marriage.”

The word hits me like a punch to the gut. “Marriage?” I echo, barely able to believe what I’m hearing.

“Yes,” Stefano replies, his voice unwavering. “If you want access to my daughter and to secure your place with us, you’ll marry her.”

My eyebrows jump in surprise. “You want me to marry your daughter?” I ask, my voice rising an octave or two.

Stefano doesn’t flinch, his gaze steady and unyielding. “It’s not just about you and her,” he replies firmly. “It’s about something bigger. Something … mutually beneficial.”

“And what mutual benefit would I gain from this?” Apart from being bound to the ice queen, which doesn’t sound like something I would enjoy.

“You’d not only get my business and my unwaveringsupport with taking down the Mortellis, but you’d also get to fuck my daughter. I know you want to … it was written all over your face. She’s not only a beauty like her mother was, but she can cook, clean, sew, has childbearing hips, and is pure; you have no concerns there.”

I rear back as if I’d just been slapped. Did I hear him right?

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