The CEO Takes a Wife / The Throw-Away Bride: The CEO Takes a Wife / The Throw-Away Bride

Fifteen minutes later, they were sitting in an intimate corner of the best restaurant in town and Alex was studying the blond beauty in front of him. He could have been sitting amongst the Miss World contestants and none of them would hold a candle to Olivia.

Her eyelids flickered. “Stop staring, Alex,” she said in a throaty voice.

“Why?”

She shot him a wry look. “Okay, let’s change the subject. Tell me about your Italian background.”

“Why?”

Her gorgeous lips curved upward. “Because I’ve just realized I’ve never asked you before. I mean, I know what I’ve read in the papers and that you’reAustralian-born, but that’s about all I know about you.”

He leaned back in his chair, pleased she was interested enough to ask. “What do you want to know?”

“Can you speak Italian, for one thing? You never do.”

“My grandparents came out from Italy after the war and they taught me when I was growing up, but I prefer to speak Australian.” He’d loved his grandparents but they were gone now and he had no interest in speaking Italian with his father.

“And your father?” she said, honing in like a dentist’s drill on a sore tooth. “He speaks fluent Italian, doesn’t he? Was he born in Italy?”

Alex’s brows drew together. “I thought this was about me, not my father.”

She cooled a little. “I’m only trying to understand the man I married.”

“Don’t,” he snapped, then grimaced at the withdrawal on her face. He sighed. “Look, my father was twelve when he came here. Eventually he made his millions and later married my mother when he was around thirty. She was Australian and she died when I was little. That’s it.”

Her eyes softened and filled with sympathy. “I’m sorry.”

His stomach knotted. “Yeah, so am I.”

The only vague memory he had of his mother was of sitting on her knee. He also had a couple of old photographs. She’d been raised by an elderly aunt so he hadn’t even been able to ask her family about her. Cesare Valente certainly hadn’t wanted to talk about her.

The only reason he’d known why he was called Alexander and not the Italian form, Alessandro, was because Isabel had told him his own mother had insisted on it. Surprisingly, Cesare had kept that pattern when Nick and Matt were born. In some corner of Alex’s heart, he liked to think his father had done it out of respect for his first wife. On the other hand, perhaps that was just foolish thinking.

“What about your grandparents, Alex?” Olivia asked, drawing him from his thoughts. “They’re not still alive, are they? I didn’t see them at the wedding, but no one has mentioned them.”

“They died years ago after a long and happy marriage.” He gave a harsh laugh. “I can’t say the same for my father,” he said, thinking about his father’s three marriages.

She tilted her head. “But Cesare has been married to Isabel for a long time now. They seem very happy.”

He scowled. “They are,” he grudgingly admitted. “I guess I have to give him credit for that.”

She nodded. “It’s probably part of the reason he wanted to see you married.” Then she hesitated, as if she wasn’t sure whether to say something or not. “He cares for you, Alex. You may not be able to see it, but I can.”

“Perhaps.” He wondered what she’d think if he told her his father wanted him to have an heir, too. But why mention something that wasn’t necessary? In six months time Cesare would be on his way to retirement, if not before. He wouldn’t be able to dictate to any of his sons after that.

The arrival of the waiter to deliver their drinks gave Alex the chance to end the discussion, but as he watched Olivia smile her thanks at the young man, he felt a jolt inside his chest. If he had to have someone have his child, she would be the perfect choice.

He pushed that thought aside. “Now it’s your turn. Tell me about your ex-husband,” he said, watching her stiffen. He knew what the papers had said about the other man, but he wanted to hear Olivia’s version of it all.

She held his gaze. “I met Eric when I was just starting out as a designer. I was working in Paris and he was this really handsome, debonair Englishman. I’d never met anyone like him before.” A derisive sound emerged from her throat. “I don’t want to meet anyone like him again.”

“He cheated on you.” It was a statement, not a question.

Her expression clouded. “Yes. He thought I had a personal fortune because of my mother. When he discovered that she wasn’t supporting me as much as he thought, he dumped me for a woman who had more money.”

Anger rippled through Alex. “The bastard.”

She inclined her head. “Thanks. I know it sounds horrible, but by that stage I was glad to get rid of him.”

“No, what sounds horrible is him using you the way he did.”

“Thank you,” she whispered. She looked hesitant, then said, “He’s the main reason I have trouble trusting people these days.”

Alex knew that took a lot to admit. “Yet, as a stranger, you trusted me enough to marry me.”

Her tight expression relaxed into a smile. “Yeah, go figure.”

Something warmed inside him, but before he could savor the moment, their meal arrived. The food was superb and afterward they strolled along the promenade. He couldn’t wait to get her home and make love to her.

And when they finally made it to their bedroom and he pulled her into his arms, he felt her tremble from head to toe in a way that none of his other lovers ever had. It made him feel special, as though he was the only man on earth who could fulfill her needs.

And that affected him more than anything.

Chapter Six

The next morning, Olivia couldn’t settle. She and Alex rose late then had breakfast together in the sunroom, but he was preoccupied and soon afterwards went to the study to work. She knew he had a lot to prepare with the launch of the perfume in a few weeks’ time, but she still had to fight that feeling of neglect again. So she made calls to Lianne and her mother, only to find they were still getting along just fine without her.

Everyone seemed to be busy except her.

She needed to throw herself into work.

Without warning a vision came to her for her next design and she remembered the colors of the lightblue sky blending with the dark-blue ocean spilling white froth along the golden sand. The effect was eye-catching and perfect for her next designs.

She would call it the Valente Collection, she decided. After all, she was a Valente now, if only temporarily. And Alex had said they could eventually combine her designs with Valente’s Woman perfume.

She hurried to find her sketchbook and pencils, intending to sit on the balcony and draw with the full view of the ocean before her. Only, this far away the vibe wasn’t quite the same. She needed to get up closer and steep herself in the colors and textures of the scene. It was important that she connect with her surroundings.

Alex need never know, she decided as she left the house. Heck, she wasn’t going to be told what to do anyway. If she wanted to go down to the beach, she would. This was her work, and she wasn’t going to miss out on an opportunity just to appease a husband who was busy with his own work anyway.

Of course, walking along the dirt path to the beach hadn’t seemed scary when she was with Alex, but now she could hear all sorts of noises in the grass that reminded her of snakes.

She picked up a long stick just in case, and made sure her footsteps trod heavily, hoping any slithery surprises would hear her coming and disappear into the longer grass.

It was a relief when she reached the beach, but she didn’t want to think about the walk back to the house so she put it out of her mind. In next to no time, she’d made herself comfortable on the sand, with a small grassy dune at her back as she reached for her pencils, blocked out the world and began to let the magic take over.

She had no idea how long she stayed there, but it wasn’t until a shadow fell across her that she realized it must have been a while, perhaps even a couple of hours. She looked up and angled her chin, expecting it to be Alex. Only the man standing there didn’t resemble her husband at all.

In his fifties, he leaned forward and looked at the design on the paper. “Is that going to be in your next collection?”