Charlene Sands

Wed on His Terms: Million-Dollar Marriage Merger


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yet noted genuine concern in his eyes. Why?

      He strode to the door and opened it. “Shall we go?”

      â€œWhere are you taking me?”

      Tony’s expression flattened. He’d caught her meaning. “I’ve made arrangements, Rena. No one will see you with me.”

      If she weren’t so upset about everything, her face might have flamed from his acknowledgment. She lifted her chin. “How’s that possible?”

      â€œWe own half of Alberto’s. It’s closed to the public tonight.”

      â€œYou mean you had it closed for my benefit?”

      â€œYou haven’t had any use for me since I returned. I didn’t think you’d like answering questions about being out with me tonight if anyone saw us.”

      Rena had almost forgotten that the Carlinos had their hands in other enterprises. They owned a few restaurants as well as the winery. They also owned stores in outlying areas that sold a line of products related to wine.

      â€œThis isn’t a date, Tony. Just so we’re clear.”

      Tony nodded. “Very clear.”

      Rena strode past him and waited for him to exit her house before she locked the front door. She moved quickly, and once he beeped his car alarm, she didn’t wait for him to open the car door. She climbed into his Porsche and adjusted the seat belt.

      â€œReady?” he asked unnecessarily. Once they made eye contact, he roared the engine to life. “It’s a nice night. Mind if I put the top down?”

      â€œNo, I could use a good dose of fresh air.”

      It’s how Tony liked to drive, with the top down, the air hitting his face, mastering the car and the road beneath.

      He hit a button, and mechanically the car transformed. He drove the road to Napa surprisingly slowly, as if they were out for a Sunday drive. Every so often, he glanced her way. She couldn’t deny his courtesy.

      Or the fact that she thought him the most devastatingly handsome man she’d ever met. She’d thought so since they’d first met the day he entered public school at the age of sixteen. Up until that point, the Carlinos had gone to an elite private school. But Tony hated the regimented lifestyle, the solitude and discipline of being in an academy. Finally, his father had relented, granting his sons the right to go through the public school system.

      Tony had made a lasting impression on her, and they’d started out as friends. But the friendship had grown as they’d gotten closer, and Rena had become Tony’s steady girlfriend two years later.

      Despite his obvious wealth and place in Napa society.

      Despite the fact that Santo Carlino and her father had become bitter enemies.

      Despite the fact that Rena never truly believed she could have a lasting relationship with Tony.

      â€œCare for some music?” he asked, reaching for the CD player button.

      â€œIf you don’t mind, I’d like to be quiet.”

      She didn’t want to rekindle memories of driving in Tony’s car with the top down and the music blasting. Of laughing and telling silly jokes, enjoying each other’s company.

      â€œOkay,” he said amiably.

      They drove in silence, Tony respecting her wishes. Shortly, he pulled into Alberto’s back parking lot. “I usually don’t resort to back alley entrance ways,” he said, with no hint of irritation. “Are you hungry?”

      â€œYes, actually quite hungry.”

      â€œGood, the food is waiting for us.”

      Before she managed to undo her seat belt, Tony was there, opening the car door for her. He reached his hand inside, and rather than appearing incredibly stubborn in his eyes, she slid her hand in his while he helped her out. The Porsche sat so low to the ground she would have fumbled like an idiot anyway, trying to come up smoothly to a standing position.

      Sensations ripped through her instantly. The contact, the intimate way his large hand enveloped her smaller one, trampled any false feeling of ease she’d imagined. She fought the urge to whip her hand away. Instead, she came out of the car and stood fully erect before slipping her hand out of his. Composing herself, she thanked him quietly and followed him inside the restaurant.

      â€œThis way,” he said and gestured to a corner booth lit by candlelight. True to his word, the entire restaurant was empty but for them. She sat down at one end of the circular booth, while he sat at the other.

      The few times Rena had come here, she’d always felt as though she’d wandered in from the streets in Tuscany with its old world furnishings and stone fountains. Alberto’s was one of finest restaurants in the county, serving gourmet fare and the best wines from Napa.

      â€œI had the chef prepare a variety of food. I wasn’t sure what you liked.”

      â€œYou forgot that I loved pepperoni pizza?”

      Tony’s mouth twisted. “No one could inhale pizza like you, Rena. But I doubt it’s on the menu tonight. Let’s go into the kitchen and see what the chef conjured up for us.”

      Tony bounded up from the booth and waited. She rose and walked beside him until they reached the state-of-the-art kitchen. They found covered dishes on the immaculate steel counter along with fresh breads, salads and a variety of desserts sitting in the glass refrigerator.

      Tony lifted one cover and announced. “Veal scaloppine, still hot.”

      Rena looked on with interest.

      Tony lifted another cover. “Linguine arrabiatta, black tiger shrimps with bacon and garlic.”

      Steam rose up, and she leaned in closer. “Hmm, smells good.”

      He lifted two more covers displaying filetto di bue, an oven roasted filet mignon, which smelled heavenly but was too heavy for Rena’s tastes, and ravioli di zucca, which Tony explained was spinach ravioli with butternut and Amaretto filling. Since entering the aromatic kitchen, Rena’s appetite had returned wholeheartedly.

      â€œThe ravioli looks good,” she said. “And that salad.” She pointed to a salad with baby greens, avocado, tangerines and candied walnuts.

      â€œGreat,” Tony said lifting the covered dish of her choice. And one for him. “If you could grab that salad, we’ll eat. Soon as I find us a bottle of wine.”

      â€œOh, no wine for me,” she announced. Tony glanced at her with a raised brow but didn’t question her. “I’ll have water.”

      â€œYour poison,” he said with a smile. He set the dishes down on the table and took off again, bringing back a bottle of Carlino Cabernet and a pitcher of water.

      They settled in for the meal in silence, Rena polishing off the delicious salad within minutes and Tony sipping his wine, eyeing her every move. “Quit looking at me.”

      â€œYou’re the best looking thing in this place.”

      She squeezed her eyes shut. “Don’t, Tony.”

      He shrugged it off. “Just stating the obvious.”

      When he turned on the charm, he had enough for the entire Napa Valley and then some. “Do you mind telling me what’s so important that you couldn’t tell me earlier this afternoon?”

      â€œAfter dinner, Rena.”

      With her