The Millionaire’s Indecent Proposal (Monte Carlo Affairs #1)(24)
Author: Emilie Rose

Franco fiddled with his pen and remained silent. He did not have an answer. He’d had confirmation this morning from a physician that Stacy was not pregnant. The news did not bring him any relief from the edginess riding his back.

“Our agreement was that you choose a woman you would be willing to marry if she could not be bought. I will not hold you to that because a marriage should never be based on anything but love.” His father stood and tossed the file folder onto the desk in front of Franco. “The documents are signed. You do not have to marry to gain control of the Constantine holdings. It is yours. But perhaps you wish to marry to regain your heart.”

Taken aback, Franco stared at his father. “I do not wish to marry again.”

Armand planted his fists on Franco’s desk and leaned forward. “She is not like Lisette, Franco. This girl cares nothing for your net worth.”

No. Stacy was nothing like his selfish ex-wife. But opening himself up for another evisceration held little appeal. “I know, but the risks—”

“Bah. When did you become a coward? Love is a gamble, but when it is true the rewards far outweigh the costs. Being alone and right is a poor substitute for being happy and in love—even if that love is imperfect.” He straightened. “What will it cost you to let Stacy get away? Can you live with always wondering who is putting the smile on her face? Who is warming her bed? Think about that, hmm?”

His father turned for the door without waiting for an answer, but paused on the threshold. “I will see you at Vincent’s rehearsal-dinner party this evening. Perhaps by then you will have your answers.”

After his father left, Franco opened the document folder. The signature on the bottom line made Franco the sole owner of the Constantine holdings, including the chateau and Midas Chocolates. He had more to lose now than ever before.

In two days Stacy would return to the States. A wise man would let her go. Only a besotted fool would beg her forgiveness and ask her to stay.

“He’s here,” Madeline whispered.

Stacy’s stomach clenched into a tight knot, but she kept her back to the entrance of the private dining room in the upscale Italian restaurant hosting the rehearsal dinner.

She’d known Franco would be here tonight, but that didn’t mean she was ready to face him. Only Madeline knew the full truth of Stacy’s situation, and that was because she’d caught Stacy in a weak moment, dragged her for another late-night meeting in the bar and pried the sordid story out of her. Stacy didn’t want to dampen Candace’s happiness so she’d sworn Madeline to secrecy.

“Want me to keep him away from you?”

A smile tugged Stacy’s lips at the mother-hen tone of her suitemate’s voice. “I don’t think that will be necessary. But thanks.”

If Franco had missed her or discovered any feelings for her at all, he would have called. But Stacy hadn’t heard from him since she’d left him in the restaurant last week. She swallowed to ease the tightening of her throat.

She, on the other hand, kept second-guessing her decision. She loved him more than she’d ever thought she could love anyone, but he obviously expected every woman to leave him as his mother, his father’s exes and Lisette had done. If Stacy stayed with him but delayed getting pregnant, could she convince him in time that she wasn’t like the other women in his life?

Her gaze shifted to Candace and Vincent’s love-struck faces. Franco had never looked at her that way—with his heart and his soul in his eyes. She yearned for him to.

Technically, the bride and groom had been married earlier this evening in a private civil ceremony the way French and Monegasque law required, but they were waiting until after the church service tomorrow morning to actually begin their lives as husband and wife.

“What’s he doing here? He’s not on the guest list,” Madeline said in a panicked whisper.

“Who?” Stacy turned toward the door. Her gaze landed on Franco in a dark, custom-fitted suit and her heart ached. She quickly looked away before meeting his gaze and spotted the man who’d posed as Madeline’s tour guide—a man who’d turned out to be anything but the humble tour guide he’d led Madeline to believe he was.

The color completely drained from Madeline’s face. She squeezed Stacy’s hand. “Stacy, I don’t want to abandon you, but I cannot face him right now. Go with me to the ladies’ room?”

Stacy squared her shoulders. She would not run. Her running days were over. “No. Go ahead. I’m okay. Franco is seated at the opposite end of the table from me. I can avoid him until after dinner. Longer, if I’m lucky.”

If not, she’d survived her mother’s murder and her father’s betrayal. Facing Franco couldn’t be worse than that. Or could it? She felt as if her heart were being ripped out all over again.

Needing a few minutes to bolster her defenses, she slipped out onto the colonnade. In forty-eight hours she would not have this magic view of Monaco, but no matter what happened she would always be grateful for her time here. She’d learned that despite her dysfunctional youth she could fall in love, but she could let go—unlike her father.

“Why do you not tread on my rugs?” Franco asked from behind her.

Stacy winced and wished she’d had a few more minutes to prepare for this encounter. She took a bracing breath and turned to find him a few yards away. He stepped out of the shadows and her lungs emptied again when she noted the lines of stress marring his handsome face. She shook off her concern. If he was stressed, it was no more than he deserved. He’d tried to buy her baby.

“I had to walk through pools of blood on our white kitchen floor when I found my mother and father. Your red rugs on white marble remind me of that night.”

“I will throw the rugs out and replace the floor if you will come back to me.”

Her heart stuttered. “What?”

He closed the distance between them. “I was wrong, Stacy. All the money in the world cannot buy the one thing I desire most.”

“An heir? I’m sure you can find some woman who’ll jump at the chance.”

His unwavering blue gaze held hers and something in their depths made her pulse skip. “I desire you, mon gardénia.”

His velvety deep voice sent a tremor rippling over her. She held up a hand to halt his approach. “Don’t do this, Franco.”

But he kept coming until her palm pressed his chest. His warmth seeped through his silk shirt into her fingers and snaked up her arm. She jerked her hand away and fisted it by her side.

“I was afraid to trust what my eyes—what my heart—told me. I offered to buy your baby as a test. If you had accepted the money, then I would know you were like every other woman I have known. But you are nothing like them.”

She couldn’t comprehend what he was saying, but that look in his eyes was beginning to fan that ember of hope she thought he’d extinguished. “Why me?”

A smile flickered on his lips. “Besides your incredible legs and the contradiction between the siren in your eyes and your cloak of reserve?”

“Huh?”

“Because my father challenged me to find a woman I could marry if she couldn’t be bought.”

Had someone slipped something into her drink? “I’m sorry?”

“Papa suggested I stop dating spoiled rich women and find someone with traditional values if I wanted to find a woman who would love me for myself and not my money. I told him I would prove him wrong by finding one of the mythical paragons he described and buying her.”

Stacy flinched. She’d thought she couldn’t possibly feel worse, but she did. Had she been nothing more than a bet? He lifted a hand to stoke her cheek, but she jerked out of reach. “So taking me to the chateau was just flaunting me in front of your father to show you’d won?”

“Oui. That was my original goal. But then you told me about your parents. You had compelling reasons for accepting my offer. Reasons which I could not condemn. And you refused to let me spoil you with meaningless gifts. I found myself falling in love with you.” He extended his arms, palms up and shrugged. “I had to push you away.”

Falling in love with her? She pressed a hand over her racing heart. “I would have slept with you without the money, Franco.”

“And I would have offered you more.” He stepped closer and trapped her by planting his hands on the railing beside her. “So much more.”

He really had to stop doing that. She told herself to duck out of the way, but her legs seemed numb. He bent and teased the corners of her mouth with tantalizing, but insubstantial and unsatisfying kisses.

“Je t’aime,” he whispered against her lips and her world stopped. Taking advantage of her shocked gasp, he captured her mouth in a deeply passionate kiss. And then he slowly drew back, his lips clinging to hers for a heartbeat longer.

The emotion in his eyes washed over her, but she was afraid to believe what she saw.

“I love you, Stacy, and if you can find it in your heart to forgive me, I want to marry you. I will add fidelity to my vows, because I never want you to doubt that my heart and my soul belong only to you. And whether or not we have children, the money I promised you is yours because you have given me so much more than money can buy.”

Her eyes burned and her throat clogged. Happiness swelled inside her. Only a man who truly loved her would offer her everything she’d ever dreamed of and at the same time open the door to set her free and provide her the means to escape.

He loved her enough to let her go.

“You don’t have to buy my love, Franco. It’s freely given.”

“Tout a un prix.”

A smile wobbled on her lips. She cupped his cheeks and stroked her thumbs over his smooth warm skin. “Not this time. I love you, and if you lost everything today, I would still love you tomorrow and every day thereafter. Yes, Franco, I will marry you.”

His chest rose on a deep breath. “I swear you will never regret it, mon gardénia.”