The CEO Takes a Wife / The Throw-Away Bride: The CEO Takes a Wife / The Throw-Away Bride. Ann Major

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      Naturally the fashion show had put them further in the red. As had another of her mother’s lavish parties put together as a means to help her get a part in a movie that now wasn’t even getting made.

      “You need cash to get your business out of trouble,” Alex continued, bringing her mind back to their conversation.

      She shrugged. “It’s a temporary cash flow problem, that’s all.”

      “You’re an exceptional fashion designer, Olivia, but that won’t save your business. You need money and you need it quickly.”

      “I can get the money if I want. I have connections.” And the minute she used them, her boutiques would no longer be her own.

      “So why haven’t you used those connections before now? You’re leaving it a bit late.”

      She picked up her glass of mineral water and took a sip, giving herself time to reply. “Pride, I guess. I don’t like owing anything to anyone. But if it comes to the crunch, I’ll swallow my pride if I have to.”

      A long moment crept by, then, “Marry me, Olivia, and I promise you won’t owe a thing.”

      She gave herself a mental shake. “Excuse me?”

      “Marry me.”

      She laughed as she put down her glass. “You’re delusional.”

      Challenge flared in his eyes. “Far from it.”

      This was absolutely crazy. She’d only just met the man. Did he even know the type of person she was? Did he care?

      “I’m attracted to you,” he said, his gaze dropping to her mouth as if he was tempted to kiss her. “And you’re attracted to me. You felt it as soon as we first saw each other.”

      “The only thing I’m feeling is disbelief. And anger.” A woman would have to be desperate to marry a stranger, much less marry a man like Alex Valente. He had to be kidding.

      A look of implacable determination crossed his face. “What’s that perfume you’re wearing?”

      She stared at him, baffled at the change in subject. “You must know what it is. It’s Valente’s Woman.”

      “So you like it then?” He didn’t give her time to answer. “Or did you wear it just for me tonight?” he asked, his voice taking on a husky quality that shivered through her.

      She ignored that shiver. “No, I didn’t wear it just for you tonight. It happens to be a gorgeous scent and I love it. I wear it all the time.” And that was the truth.

      He inclined his head, his eyes turning businesslike. “And so do most women in Australia.”

      “I’m sure you’re right.” This particular perfume called to something inside her. It possessed a fascinating quality and retained a sensual edge that, to her mind, made it the perfect perfume. She rather thought she’d like to wear it for the rest of her life.

      “We’re about to launch it in the States in a big way,” he said, drawing her from her thoughts. “And I’ve come to a decision. We can use all the publicity we can get, but I can’t think of any better publicity than the CEO of the House of Valente marrying someone with the famous Cannington name.”

      She was so shocked at his reasoning, it took her a moment to think past what he was saying.

      And then a derisive sound escaped her mouth. “Let me get this right. You’ll pay me to marry you for the sake of a perfume?”

      “Why not? I’ve heard of worse reasons. And while it’s too late for the launch right now, we could eventually promote the perfume along with your line of fashion.” He leaned back comfortably in his chair and took another sip of his Scotch. “Marry me and I’ll pay all your debts.”

      Pay her debts? Plus the chance to combine the Valente perfume and her fashion designs? The thought of it intrigued her.

      Then she realized she was actually thinking about it. Good grief! There was no way she was going to consider marrying a man for money. No way at all.

      Her hand tightened around her glass. “As delightful as your offer sounds,” she said with sarcasm, “I really can’t accept it.”

      His gaze penetrated to the bone. “You’re between a rock and a hard place. How else will you get the money?”

      “Perhaps I’ll go to the newspapers and sell them a story. I’m sure they’d be very interested in your offer.”

      His look was of faint amusement. “But then I’d have to tell them about your financial crisis. And I’m sure they’d be equally as interested in that, if not more.”

      Damn him. She had to protect her mother, especially now, when Felicia badly needed to get her career back on track. After all, the one time she’d really needed her mother, Felicia had been there for her, helping her through the divorce. Not to mention, her mother had given her money to help start up her fashion design business in the first place.

      But as Olivia looked at Alex, her brow crinkled in a frown. What was this actually about? What was his reasoning behind it all? A man like Valente didn’t need to marry her. His own family had plenty of wealth and privilege. She couldn’t see how Valente’s Woman could possibly fail in America. Not with Alex Valente running the show.

      She tilted her head and considered him. “There’s more to your offer than you’re saying.”

      Wary surprise flickered in his eyes. He took a sip of his Scotch before answering. “That’s very perceptive of you. You’re a sharp lady.”

      Her heart gave a little flutter at the compliment. “This isn’t about me,” she reminded him.

      Sudden tension tautened the hard line of his shoulders. “My father thinks it’s time I married. He says he’ll sell the business and give the proceeds all away to charity if I don’t, and neither of my two brothers nor myself will get a cent.”

      She blinked in shock. This man would hate to be told what to do. “That seems rather drastic.”

      “My father never does anything in half measures,” he said, somewhat cynically. “He’s being forced to retire for health reasons, and he’s tasked me with the American launch. I expect he’ll want me to take over as head of the company, only he won’t do that until I’m settled.”

      “So you’re after your father’s approval then?” she said, somewhat surprised by the thought. Not that there was anything wrong with wanting a parent’s approval. It was just thatAlex seemed too independent, too remote to worry about what anyone else thought.

      Not a flicker of emotion crossed his face. “No, I couldn’t care less about his approval,” he said, confirming her intuition. “This is for the sake of the company and for my two younger brothers.”

      She frowned. “It’s a big request.”

      His mouth set in a stubborn line. “I’ve decided to play along for a year.”

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