Propositioned By The Tycoon: Mr Strictly Business / Bought: His Temporary Fiancée / A Win-Win Proposition

She didn’t want or need anyone to guarantee her ability to pull off this wedding. She was capable. Competent. She knew the business inside and out. But with one simple offer, he’d reduced Elegant Events in the eyes of her client to a struggling start-up in need of a “real” businessman to back its ability to perform successfully.

Gabe relaxed in his chair, very much in charge. “I may not be able to guarantee that nothing will go wrong if you honor your contract. But understand this, Annie. There is one thing I can guarantee.” He paused to add weight to his comment. “Your wedding will be an unmitigated disaster if you try and do it on your own at this late stage. You’re just asking for trouble attempting to be both bride and coordinator.”

Annie gnawed on her bottom lip. Clearly, the same thought had occurred to her. “I might be able to pull it off,” she offered.

“You think so? Then I suggest you consider this…”

He turned the full battery of Piretti charm and business savvy on her and Catherine watched in amused exasperation. Annie didn’t stand a chance against him, poor thing. She hung on his words, her eyes huge as she tumbled under his spell like every other woman who’d come up against those devilish blue eyes and persuasive personality.

“After what happened at the Marconi party, Catherine is strongly motivated to make certain your wedding is perfect in every regard, if only to prove that her reputation for excellence remains intact.”

Catherine shot Gabe a quelling glare. Not that it did much to quell him. The man was unquellable. “I can’t go into specifics about what happened,” she explained to Annie, deftly assuming control. “But I want to assure you that the problems we experienced were not a result of anything I did wrong, but for the most part caused by some mischief maker out to amuse him—or herself by turning on the sprinklers. On top of that there were a few boaters who crashed the party. I know this is a stressful time for you. And I don’t doubt you’re under tremendous pressure.”

“My mother’s insisting I get rid of you,” Annie admitted. “And since she’s the one paying…”

“If you’d like me to meet with her and address her concerns, I will.”

Annie gave it a moment’s thought before shaking her head. “No, that won’t be necessary. One of the agreements Mom and I came to about the wedding was that it was my wedding. I get to make the decisions.” Her gamine smile flashed. “She gets to pay for them.”

Catherine responded with an answering smile and gave one more gentle push. “In that case, I hope you’ll decide to honor our contract.” She kept her eyes trained on Annie’s, hoping the younger girl would see Catherine’s sincerity, as well as her determination. “I promise to do my absolute best for you.”

“But Gabe’s guarantee stands, right?”

Catherine gritted her teeth. “Gabe’s guarantee stands.”

“In that case…” Annie beamed. “Okay.”

“Then it’s settled? We move forward?”

“It’s settled. You can stay on as my event stager.” Her attention switched to Gabe and she shot him an impish look. “Although I have to admit I’m almost hoping something does go wrong so you’re stuck footing the bill.”

He leaned in. “I’ll see what I can do to sabotage something,” he said in a stage whisper. “Something that won’t cause too much trouble, but just enough to get you off the hook.”

Annie giggled. “Nah, don’t do that. It would only make me feel guilty, afterward. If you can make sure there aren’t any screwups, that’s all that matters to me.”

“Gabe won’t have to worry about it,” Catherine inserted smoothly. “That’s my job.” She leveled Gabe with a single look. “And it’s a job I do quite well.”

Lunch sped by, though afterward Catherine couldn’t have said what they talked about or even what they ate. While part of her was grateful for Gabe’s assistance—after all, he’d rescued the account, hadn’t he? The other part, the major part, was hands-down furious.

“Go on,” he said the minute they parted company with Annie and were walking toward his Jag. “What’s eating you?”

She didn’t bother to hold back. “I realize you’re accustomed to being in charge, but I’d appreciate it if you’d remember that this is my business.”

He paused beside the passenger door, key in hand. “You resent my offering to guarantee a successful event?” he asked in surprise.

“To be blunt, yes. I felt like a teenager purchasing her first car and needing Daddy to cosign the loan agreement.”

He considered that for a minute. “Perhaps it would help if you examined it from a slightly different angle.”

She folded her arms across her chest. What other angle was there? “What other angle is there?”

“I’m a businessman. It goes against the grain to lose money.” He thought about it, and added, “It more than goes against the grain.”

“Then you better hope everything proceeds without a hitch, because otherwise you’ll be on the hook for…” She silently performed a few mathematical gymnastics and named a total that left him blanching. “Weddings don’t come cheap,” she informed him. “Especially not ones I stage.”

“Why don’t they just buy a house?” he argued. “It would last longer and one day show a return on investment.”

“Fortunately for Elegant Events that doesn’t occur to most couples.”

He brushed that aside. “My point is…my offer to guarantee your success shows the extent of my confidence in you and Elegant Events. I don’t back losers, and I don’t have any intention of paying for Annie’s wedding. Nor will I have to because I know you. I know you’ll do an outstanding job.”

Catherine opened her mouth to reply and then shut it again. “Huh.”

He closed the distance between them, trapping her against the car. “I have faith in you, sweetheart. There’s not a doubt in my mind that Saturday’s wedding is going to be a dream come true for our young Annie. And I think it’s all going to be thanks to you.”

“You really believe that?” she asked, touched.

The intensity of his gaze increased. “I’ve always believed in you, and one of these days you’re going to let me prove that to you.”

She barely had time to absorb that before he lowered his head and caught her mouth in a kiss so tender it brought tears to her eyes. He believed in her, had done his best to demonstrate that today. And what had she given him in return? Doubt. Mistrust. Secrets. As much as she feared attempting that first, wobbly step to reestablish their relationship, maybe it was time to take a small leap of faith. Gabe was reaching out. Maybe, just maybe, she could do the same.

And with that thought it mind, she surrendered to the embrace and opened herself to possibilities. Opened herself to the dream.

The next week flew by. To Gabe’s amusement, he realized that Catherine was doing just as he’d predicted. She threw every ounce of energy, focus and determination into making Annie’s wedding as perfect as possible. She double—and triple-checked every detail. Then she checked again. She ran through endless scenarios of potential problems that could crop up, endless possibilities that might occur at the last instant. She knew she’d be under intense scrutiny, that any tiny flaw would be blown up into a major catastrophe. Annie’s mother, in particular, was already proving a handful with endless phone calls and demands. And yet Gabe noticed that Catherine dealt calmly with every problem and complaint, not allowing her demeanor to be anything other than polite and reassuring.

“You’re driving yourself to exhaustion,” he told her toward the end of the week. He sank his fingers into the rigid muscles of her shoulders and worked to smooth out the knots and kinks. “You don’t want that exhaustion to show, and the best way of avoiding that is to get some sleep.”

Catherine nodded absently. “You’re right. I’ll join you in a minute. I just want to go over the seating chart one final time.”

Without a word, he lifted her into his arms and carried her—protesting all the way—into the bedroom. “The seating chart will still be there in the morning, as will the menu and the flower order and the final head count. There’s nothing more you can do tonight other than fuss.”

“I do not fuss,” she argued. “I organize.”

“Sweetheart, I know organizing. That wasn’t it. That was fussing.”

She sagged against him. “You’re right, you’re right. I’m fussing. I can’t seem to stop myself.”

“That’s what I’m here for.”

He lowered Catherine onto the bed and in less than thirty seconds had her stripped and a wisp of anightgown tugged over her slender form. Then he tucked her under the covers. He joined her ten seconds later, but by that time she’d already fallen sound asleep. Thank God for small miracles, he couldn’t help but think. Sweeping her close, he brushed her hair back from her brow and planted a gentle kiss there. Satisfied that he’d accomplished his goal with minimal effort, he cushioned her head against his shoulder and allowed sleep to consume him as well.

As the end of the week approached, Gabe kept a weather eye on Catherine, ensuring that she ate properly and caught as much sleep as possible. She tolerated his interference, seemed amused by it, even. Perhaps she understood that it originated from concern. And that gave him hope that maybe this time around they’d get their relationship right.

By Friday morning, the day of the reception, Catherine’s calm had vanished and her nerves had shredded through her self-control. “Anything I can do?” he asked over breakfast.

She shook her head. “I have some paperwork to take care of this morning—”

“You and I both know it’s all in order.”