Marrying Mari (2 page)

“Miss Amorini? The package is in here.” The woman stepped to the double doors behind her and opened one. She gestured Mariella inside.

Her first impression was that the inner office was nearly as big and maybe more impressive than the outer lobby.

Her second impression was of the two men in the office, one dark-haired, standing behind the massive desk, the other sitting on the edge of the conference table.

She stopped, hearing the door click shut behind her. “Package pick-up?”

“On the table.” The seated man spoke.

She glanced over, saw the manila envelope on the gleaming surface.

Something was weird, she thought, but mentally shrugged. Manhattan. What wasn’t weird?

She crossed to the table and opened her bag.

“Can you…” the standing man spoke. “Can you take off your glasses?”

“Helmet too.” The other one.

Mariella stopped. Faced them. “Why?”

“Why not?” The seated man smiled. He was big, six three or so, broad-shouldered. Lots of golden brown hair. His smile was, well, brilliant. And, she thought, meant to be charming the glasses and helmet right off her. It would work, too, if he weren’t quite so tense.

She picked up the package.

“Look,” the second man came around the desk, “This is a confidential delivery. I’ll feel better if I can see your eyes.” His voice was deep and smooth. He was tall too, almost as tall as Mr. Smiley, but leaner. He was also far more relaxed.

She let her messenger bag, slung over one shoulder and across her body, slip back into place at her hip. Then, taking her time, she reached up and pulled off the black aviators she regularly wore. She set them on the table and unclipped the webbing holding her crash helmet in place. Sliding it off her head, she slipped her free hand through the short curls and let the headgear dangle.

Ethan’s first good look at her was a punch to the midsection.

She stared at him and set her chin. Pursed her lips. “Feel better?”

She was
beautiful
. Her hair wasn’t just dark, it was a rich deep red, cut in short, crisp curls. Her features were feminine, but shaped with an edgy elegance. High, slanted cheekbones, pointed chin, small nose. Her eyes were thickly lashed, slightly tilted up at the outer corners like a cat’s, a clear gray, albeit looking rather stormy right at this moment.

Gabriel stood and circled toward her left side. When Ethan slid a look at him, he saw his friend register the TKO of Mariella’s looks.

Ethan watched as Gabriel rubbed one hand across his mouth, hiding his expression. But he was stalking her.

She glanced at Gabe, at Ethan, and back to Gabe. “No offense, but you’re making me, um…”

“What, sugar?” Gabriel’s voice was rougher than usual.

She eyed him warily. “Uncomfortable.” She picked up the envelope, which was still lying on the table.

Ethan moved in, lifted her chin with one finger, studying her face. “Don’t mean to do that. But I do feel better. Gabriel?”

“Much better.”

“I’m Ethan Stone. This is Gabriel Pryor.”

She stepped back, away from Ethan’s touch. “Yeah. Still uncomfortable.” She moved to replace the sunglasses and Ethan caught her arm.

“Don’t.”

Regret shot through him when she flinched and took a firm step away. He let go of her arm. Gabriel stopped too, watching her.

“Miss,” Ethan started, then stopped. Unexpectedly he had no idea what to say to make it right. He wasn’t used to feeling uncomfortable in his own office.

Gabriel stepped in. “Let us take you to lunch.”

She eyed them, head to toe, and smiled. “No, thanks. Our outfits don’t match today.” She waggled the envelope. “And I’ve got deliveries.”

“We’ll get someone else to deliver them.” Gabriel had relaxed enough to lean against the conference table, arms casually folded across his chest. His eyes gleamed.

“Sorry. My job.” Mariella didn’t sound sorry. She put on the sunglasses, grabbed the helmet, and nodded briskly. After one last glance at the both of them, she headed for the door.

“One minute, Miss Amorini,” Ethan’s voice rang out and she stopped instantly, responding to his command.

She turned to see him hold up a white envelope.

“Your bonus.” Ethan crossed to her, stopping two feet away. She reached for the offered envelope, but he didn’t let go, forcing her to meet his eyes once more. “Be careful.” She pulled slightly and he let go.

She nodded briskly and walked out the door. Mari crossed to the elevator, ignoring the three assistants watching. She kept her back turned, wondering if one or both of the men were watching her from the office door.

The private elevator opened immediately and she walked in. She busied herself with stuffing the envelopes into her bag. As the doors slid closed, smoothly and nearly soundlessly, she realized she was holding her breath and gasped. She sagged against the wall of the car, panting in reaction.

In the lobby, she hustled to her bike, still clipped to the rack outside. Once she had the bike free, Mari headed east, toward Third Avenue where she could get a delicious, cheap gyro for lunch. There was a small park nearby where she could crash for a moment and get over her reaction to the two men.

Twenty minutes later, she stretched out on the tiny plot of grass under a budding tree.

Damn
.

She let her mind run free. What was that? She never… Her body was
still
humming and tingling from that meeting. She’d been on her own since she was sixteen, supporting herself financially and emotionally, getting herself into and putting herself through pre-med, until her recent monetary problems, which meant that she’d been bumping around in the Big World for a long time.

And no one,
no one
had ever affected her like Ethan Stone and Gabriel Pryor. Even one of them would have knocked her for a loop, but both of them at once? Seriously powerful sexual mojo there. Her nipples were still hard, her panties definitely wet.

Sharing lunch with them? She would have swooned.

It had clearly been Stone’s office, his command center. So he was the big noise at Colony Bank who had asked for her? She’d wanted to ask why, but he was too intimidating, too gorgeous. The combination of crisp, glossy black hair cut short, piercing azure eyes, Roman nose, and pale skin with the long, lean body in the five thousand dollar suit and the air of supreme male confidence was overwhelming. His voice was like warm caramel, smooth and intoxicating. He’d been still, like a wolf waiting on a lonely deer by a woodland stream, taking his time before pouncing.

His finger against her skin had shocked her with its intimacy. With how deep that touch had burned—all the way to the bone.

And Gabriel? While she had no idea why the other man was in Ethan’s office, she knew he was no second-in-command. No flunky.

He hadn’t touched her. And for that she was grateful, because at a distance he had packed a powerful punch. He hadn’t been in a suit like Ethan, but the more casual gear of loose brown trousers and what she thought was a cashmere sweater in shades of gold. It had looked soft, but the body underneath wasn’t.

They weren’t brothers, obviously. Gabriel’s hair was longer, lighter. His eyes were the color of Irish whiskey, under straight, thick brows. His skin was a warm golden color, and his body was big. Broad-shouldered, with a muscular chest and arms, narrow waist and long, strong legs. His energy, unlike Ethan’s, was restless. His mouth was sensual, full with sculpted lips and small dimples at each corner when he smiled.

Mari drew in a deep breath. Who knew she’d noticed so many details, so closely? But damn, they were burned into her retinas. She wasn’t completely inexperienced. Okay, so yes, she was a virgin technically, but she’d been friends with boys, dated men, been around all the guys at work and in pre-med. Hell, the guys she biked with had hard bodies and reckless attitudes enough to make any woman’s mouth water.

And she’d never experienced anything like the sexual energy that had thrummed through that magnificent office.

Pulling the smaller white envelope out of her bag she ripped off the end and dumped the contents into her hand. Colony Bank stationery with writing in black ink, controlled slashing handwriting, folded around cash and a card on thick white stock, clipped together. The letter said, “The promised bonus. Don’t spend it all in one place. Ethan Stone.” The cash totaled one thousand dollars. She gasped again. Bonus? The front of Ethan’s card simply held the bank’s logo, his name and a phone number. She flipped it over and the back had two more numbers inked in the same handwriting. One marked “Ethan” and the other “Gabriel,” and underneath one word: “Anytime.”

What the hell?

What looked like personal numbers? One thousand dollars “bonus”?

What did they think she was? What did they want?

Stunned, she stared at the cash, the card in her hands and the letter lying in her lap.

“Now what?” Gabriel’s impatient voice interrupted Ethan’s thoughts.

Ethan smiled, considering Mariella’s rapid withdrawal. “Don’t know.” He watched as his closest friend prowled the office. Gabriel was always restless, in motion, but this was unusual, even for him. The corner of Ethan’s mouth kicked up and he grinned in delight.

“What are you grinning for, dumbass? Did you see her walking away?”

“Yes,” Ethan responded mildly. “She’s the one.”

Gabriel stopped and stared at him. Laid both hands flat on the conference table and leaned aggressively toward Ethan. “Was that a question? Damn yes, she’s the one.” He stared at Ethan for a long minute, then grinned himself. “We found her.”

Ethan nodded. “We did.”

“She didn’t seem quite as excited about meeting us.”

“Well, after all, she doesn’t have all the information yet. And we did come on a bit strong. I wasn’t expecting to react so strongly, so quickly.” Ethan had a quick slice of regret for the wariness that had crossed Mariella’s stunning face. “I handled it badly.”

“We both did. But she sensed something. I could tell.” Gabriel relaxed, replaying the scene in his mind. “She’s got the card and the phone numbers. And the money.”

Ethan grinned again, picturing her face when she saw the grand. In cash. On the one hand, that money could be a great help to someone struggling to save for med school. Now that he’d met this young woman in person, though, he imagined she’d want to throw the bills in their faces and set their nasty assumptions straight.

In fact, he was counting on it.

“Hello, Miss Amorini. What can I do for you?” The call came slightly after six p.m. on his private number, the one he’d written on the card.

“Mr. Stone. I’d like to—we need to meet.” She sounded abrupt.

“Tonight?”

A slight pause. “Yes. That would be fine.”

“Do you know Insatiable?”

“D’you mean the restaurant?”

“Yes. Why don’t you meet me there at eight thirty for dinner?”

“The immensely hip restaurant of the moment.
You
can get a table there tonight, at this late hour?”

“I can. Will you come?”

“What am I saying, of course you can. You’re the Big Noise of Colony Bank, aren’t you? Or do you already have a reservation?”

“I don’t, as a matter of fact. But I can get one, even at this late hour.”

“Will it be just you?”

He grinned, even though she couldn’t see it. “I’m sure Gabriel can join us.”

“Good.”

His grin widened. “I’ll let him know you asked for him specifically.”

Another pause. “Fine. Eight thirty.” She hung up suddenly.

His grin widened. Her bad temper and sarcasm charmed him somehow. Probably because everyone in the world seemed to go out of their way to treat him like some kind of royalty. Everyone except Gabriel, of course. And possibly his sister Irene.

Ethan dialed Gabriel’s private line. When his friend picked up, he said, “We’re on. Eight thirty at Insatiable, tonight.”

“Did she say anything?”

“Other than something sarcastic about me being the Big Noise, no. I sense she’s saving it for an in-person response. When did she get to Crave with the envelope?”

“About three thirty. Tosh said she was cute.” Gabriel snorted, then sighed. “What if we’re wrong? What if she likes the money?”

“Then you and I are wrong, simultaneously and for the first time, about a woman. Do you think we’re wrong?”

Gabe was silent for a moment, but when he spoke, his tone was confident. “No. Let’s play the hand out. She’ll be damn mad before we’re done, y’know.”

“I do know. But I think we can convince her to forgive us, don’t you?”

Gabriel’s voice deepened. “Oh, yeah, brother. I look forward to it. I’ll make the arrangements.” He rang off, just as abrupt as she was.

Ethan laid his cell on his desk and turned his mind to clearing his desk, a task much more mundane than that of seducing Miss Mariella Amorini.