Page 8 of Signed, Sealed, Married

Excitement burred under his skin as he sipped his beer and watched her watching him.

He liked that, he realised. Enjoyed being the sole focus of Gisèle Fontaine’s attention.

It would have been a mistake to offer for any of the other companies. Fontaine’s was definitely the one for him.

‘You want me to continue working in the company?’

‘Not as CEO. Your skills don’t lie in that area. We both know that it was the decisions made in the recent past that brought the company to its knees.’

This time there was no blush at the reference to her poor decision-making. She met his gaze tranquilly.

Adam frowned. Was she really so good at hiding her feelings or did she not care? No, she cared. Her plea for the employees proved that.

A tickle skirted his consciousness. A hint of something to be further investigated. But for now his attention was on securing what he wanted.

‘But you represent the company well. You’re very decorative.’

There! A narrowing of the eyes and tightening of the jaw. Adam felt like a poker player about to win a fortune after discovering his opponent’s tell.

She didn’t like being called decorative? She wasn’t cut out to lead the business. The company had foundered under her watch.

‘I mean that in the nicest possible way, Gisèle. Your company stands for luxury, for distinction. It’s a cut above the average. Its name is synonymous with elegance and class. You’ve got that same air of sophisticated style.’

He wasn’t referring to her slim-fitting jacket and skirt of midnight blue, lightened only by the touch of pale grey silk visible between her lapels. Or the gleam of discreet gold earrings. The clothes were part of it but she had such an air, she’d look refined without them.

A sensation low in his belly, like a silent growl, made him blank the distracting image in his head.

‘You want me to stay on as a brand ambassador?’

‘That’s one way of putting it.’

Adam was about to explain then paused, curious about her sudden tension.

She drew a breath then turned her attention to her food, cutting a morsel of chicken and popping it into her mouth, chewing slowly.

Buying time? Obviously. But why?

Adam almost enjoyed the way she drew the moment out. He liked watching Gisèle eat. She wasn’t finicky but her movements were precise and, even chewing, that lush mouth made him supremely aware of her femininity. And that he was a man who hadn’t taken a lover in months.

‘I appreciate the thought and I agree that it would be ideal for the family still to be involved in the company. But I’m not a model. I don’t aspire to that sort of career.’ She smiled but her eyes remained serious. ‘Thank you but I’ll have to say no—’

‘You haven’t heard me out. I don’t want to employ you as a model.’

‘You don’t?’

He shook his head. ‘Though I’d expect you to appear in public. You’ve been the face of Fontaine for some time and I want that to continue.’ Because he wasn’t just buying the company or the brand, he was buying the idea, the image, and all that went with it. Satisfaction filled him. ‘I want you as my wife, Gisèle.’

Fortunately Gisèle had already swallowed that mouthful of chicken or she’d have choked.

Her heart hammered as her cutlery slipped through nerveless fingers, clattering onto the plate.

She waited what seemed a lifetime for him to continue, adding some detail to prove she’d misheard.

Instead he remained silent, watching her as he reached for a bread roll with one tanned, capable-looking hand.

Time slowed as he lifted the roll. She noticed a jagged, silver scar along his thumb. She caught a gleam of even, white teeth as he bit into the bread.

A shiver ran through her from neck to breasts, past her abdomen to her sex. Gisèle swallowed as unfamiliar, unwanted arousal drenched her from scalp to sole.

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