The Marriage Merger
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Jennifer Probst
______________________________________
“Nonstop sexual tension crackles off the page” (Laura Kaye) in the sizzling final installment in the New York Times and USA TODAY bestselling Marriage to a Billionaire saga by Jennifer Probst.
Her sisters have found wedded bliss with their wealthy, wonderful dream men, but not Julietta Conte. She’s stayed on terra firma as top executive of the family’s corporation, La Dolce Famiglia bakery. Work is her passion, and her trendy Milan apartment her sanctuary . . . until Sawyer Wells, a masculine masterpiece in a suit, lures her out of hiding with an irresistible offer: an exclusive partnership with his international chain of boutique hotels.
Julietta’s been burned before—and trusting her brother-in-law’s friend, whose powerful gaze alone has her rethinking the best use of a conference room, is the riskiest proposition. But with a once-in-a-career chance to take the bakery global, will she mix stone-cold business with red-hot seduction?
________________________
Jennifer Probst is a
New York Times
and
USA TODAY
bestselling author of contemporary romance fiction, both sexy and erotic.
Fiction ∙ Gallery Books ∙ July 2013
978-1-4767-4490-2 ∙ $13.99 U.S./$15.99 Can. 400 pages Publicity contact: Jen Robinson ∙ 212-698-2719
[email protected] Praise for Jennifer Probst’s “fresh, fun, and sexy” (Romancing the Book) series
The Marriage Bargain
The Marriage Trap
The Marriage Mistake
The Marriage Merger
“Charming, fast-paced . . . It will hook you and leave you begging for more!”
—Laura Kaye,
New York Times
bestselling author of
One Night With a Hero
“A beautiful story with characters that will stay with you forever.”
—Candace Havens, bestselling author of
Take It Like a Vamp
“Destined to steal your heart.”
—Lori Wilde,
New York Times
bestselling author “Absolutely amazing! I couldn’t put it down.”
—
Bitten by Paranormal Romance
“Highly amusing . . . Jennifer Probst is an amazing author.”
—
Fresh Fiction
“Fiery and wild . . . it goes straight to your heart.”
—
Maldivian Book Reviewer
“Witty, sweet, and sexy . . . very enjoyable.”
—
Bookish Temptations
“Jennifer Probst is quickly turning into one of my favorite authors!”
—Susan Meier, author of
Nanny for the Millionaire’s Twins
“She is carving her way into the hearts of readers with each new breath-catching romance.”
—Catherine Bybee,
New York Times
bestselling author Also by Jennifer Probst THE MARRIAGE TO A BILLIONAIRE SERIES
The Marriage Bargain
The Marriage Trap
The Marriage Mistake
The Marriage Merger
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This book is a work of fiction. Any references to historical events, real people, or real places are used fictitiously. other names, characters, places, and events are products of the author’s imagination, and any resemblance to actual events or places or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
Copyright © 2013 by Jennifer Probst All rights reserved, including the right to reproduce this book or portions thereof in any form whatsoever. For information address Gallery Books Subsidiary rights Department, 1230 Avenue of the Americas, New york, Ny 10020.
First Gallery Books trade paperback edition July 2013
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Manufactured in the United States of America 10 9 8 7 6 5 4 3 2 1
Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data is available.
ISBN 978-1-4767-4490-2
ISBN 978-1-4767-4496-4 (ebook)
I’m a mom first, a writer second. Thanks to my own special
mommy support group, who I’ve known since pre-K days,
and who have entertained me at play-dates, parties, birthdays,
and school trips while our children played together: Danielle
Nelson, Patti Turner, Susan Hansen, and Amanda Winters.
And, as always, to my family, my own True North.
It was official.
She was a failure.
Julietta Conte stared sightlessly at the buttercream-colored wall of her home. Funny, she’d never taken the time to put any paintings or photos up. Unmarred by any marks or holes by numerous nails, the clean lines usually soothed her. reminded her of the orderly, controlled life-style she proudly led. Tonight, the pristine perfection of that wall only made her feel empty. Like an imposter. or a ghost.
A funny sound escaped her lips. She had lost the biggest deal her family bakery had ever been offered, but losing her mind was not a possibility at this point. A month of research, endless paperwork, little sleep, and various social outings had yielded rejection by the esteemed Palazzo Hotel. She’d been so sure of success. Instead, she was left with nothing but the image of confessing her failure to her team in the morning.
Tugging her cocoa silk robe tighter around her, she crossed the lush carpet over to her trendy kitchen and poured herself a glass of Bolla. Low voices on the television chattered behind her, but the stark silence of her home screamed.
What was wrong with her tonight? She’d lost deals be-fore. rarely did she allow herself to stumble on her failures—she’d learned to toughen up and head toward the next beacon of profit. It wasn’t like La Dolce Famiglia was in any financial trouble. This wasn’t life or death. yet, the lure of making her mark on the business world and in her family was the only thing she had left to give. And now, she couldn’t even accomplish that.
A demanding buzz rose to her ears. Julietta scooped up her phone and glanced at the text. Her sister. Again. Was this the third or fourth text tonight?
Did you do it?
Impatience nipped at her nerves. Her youngest sibling was happily married to her longtime crush and insisted a ridiculous love spell had brought the whole thing together.
If only. How much easier would life be if you just made a list of all the qualities needed in a man, burned it in a fire to earth Mother, and sat back and waited? of course, Julietta gently tried to explain, it probably wasn’t the book but the simple fact they were meant to be together. Carina refused to believe it.
So Carina had pressed the violet fabric book into Julietta’s hands during her last visit and made her swear on their sisterhood she’d try the spell. Carina believed if Julietta cast this silly love spell, Mr. right would show up at her door and change her life. After an hour of being verbally abused regarding her inability to see past her spreadsheets toward the future, Julietta agreed, certain her sister would forget the ridiculous conversation and move on.
Two weeks now. Twenty texts. A dozen phone calls. And no end in sight to forgetfulness.
Her fingers punched out two letters.
NO.
The crisp fruity taste of the wine danced in her mouth.
opening the refrigerator, she grabbed a handful of grapes and made her way back to the living room to stew. Why didn’t anyone understand or accept that a single woman could be happy? And she
was
happy. Damn happy. ever since that ridiculous purple fabric book bullied its way into her place she’d been tortured nonstop. Carina swore the spell had worked with both Alexa and Maggie to match them with their soul mates.
A massive wave of hopelessness pressed down on her.
She fought sudden panic, dragged in a breath, and coldly analyzed the emotions. of course, she was a bit envious of her siblings. All of them had settled down into married bliss, chattering about families and get-togethers. She was looked upon as the single female who should entertain them with stories of love gone wrong and hot affairs burning up the sheets.
The flashing screen saver on her laptop advertising the logo of La Dolce Famiglia mocked her. Instead, Julietta spoke of figures and sales and the next deal to bring greatness to the family name. even Mama began to look at her with concern and perhaps a shred of pity.
She bit down hard on a grape. Tart juice exploded on her tongue.
Merda.
Who cared? Wasn’t this the time women did not need men? Sex was overrated and not something she was interested in anyway. Her inability to experience an orgasm or a deep connection with a man had frustrated her for years until she vowed to cut out that part of her life in order to keep her sanity. Her mind might have craved physical intimacy, but her body was steeped in ice. After many failed attempts to feel something—anything—from the opposite sex, she stopped whining and started living.
Without sex.
Her sleek, trendy space bespoke her wealth, taste, and success. Though her sisters preferred warm Tuscan furnish-ings, Julietta favored clean modern lines with a ruthless efficiency that appealed to her sense of order. Bright white paint set off the edgy black and glass tables, bone loveseats, and plum cushions under sky-high ceilings. The huge windows allowed light to flood the rooms in the daytime and offered spectacular views of a lit-up Milan at night. Her kitchen consisted of red leather bar stools and black granite counter tops. No need for a massive table since she always ate alone. If there was a new gadget out, she bought it. The place was wired with the latest in all technology, from her various computers and lightning Internet access to a theater-version television, and sound systems that piped music into every room.
She may not own her sister Venezia’s flair for fashion drama, but her tailored suits were always designer and beauti fully cut. She appreciated well-made clothes and lavished her girly side with a walk-in closet full of leather, suede, silk, and satin. She could have easily bought a mansion on her salary, but she preferred her luxury apartment in the middle of Milan—close to work, people, and activity. Too much silence in the mountains might make her go insane.
She chewed on more grapes as her phone vibrated again.
What are you afraid of?
Julietta grabbed the phone and did the unthinkable: hit the power button and punished her sister in the only way possible—forcing her into a void of silence.
She feared nothing except failure. Fortunately, she’d learned that hard work and ruthless control led to success.
The only thing she’d been unable to change was her body, so she’d done the next best thing. Accepted it and moved on. Now a few texts from her sister rattled her like chattering teeth on a bony skeleton.
Her gaze swung around and settled on the book. The fabric cover seemed to pulse, somehow demanding, almost begging her to cross the room. She’d shoved it on the shelf next to the biographies she favored, but the odd violet color refused to blend with the other spines. Maybe she’d glance through the book and tell Carina she did the spell. Then they could move on and get over this ridiculous subject.
She placed her wineglass on a coaster, walked to the shelf, and plucked the book from the row. The small, square book seemed innocuous enough.
The Book of Spells
. Hmm, no author noted. As she flipped through the worn, delicate pages, no witches’ smoke puffed out. The room didn’t shake, and no cold wind blew through the space.
Julietta settled back against the cushions. Strange, just one love spell made up the entire book: Make a list of all the qualities needed in a soul mate.
That certainly didn’t
promise marriage or happily ever after.
Place a copy of the list under her mattress. Burn the original list in a fire. Chant something silly to the entity of earth Mother.
Finito
.
That’s it?
Julietta shook her head, and with a muttered curse, she grabbed the ledger pad she always left next to her laptop.
The dark ink bled on the stark white pages as she scribbled furiously, refusing to linger. No pondering or analyzing this time. Just an emotional dump she rarely allowed herself, a list of everything she always wanted in a mate and knew was impossible to achieve.
