Million Dollar Christmas Proposal Read online

  “We have that in common.” He was in his shirtsleeves and tie.

  Enzu had removed his suit jacket before leaving Manhattan and had the driver place it along with his overcoat on the empty front passenger seat.

  “Would you like to put your coat in the front?” he asked, when it became clear she meant to put it on the seat between them.

  For some reason Enzu did not like the idea of the cloth barrier.

  She took far longer to answer than a question so simple should warrant. Perhaps she was as attached to the buffer as he was bothered by it.

  In the end she assented, however. They went through the process of passing the peacoat through the accessibility panel to the driver.

  Enzu slid the thickly paneled glass back into place, affording them a measure of privacy. The driver would not hear what was said, and the glass was reflective on his side, though not perfectly opaque. Particularly at night, when a light was on in the backseat for Enzu to work.

  They were on their way when Enzu asked carefully, “Vincenzo?”

  That finally brought her too addictive gaze to his. Instead of looking self-conscious at the familiarity, she frowned. “Really? You are going to suggest I should call you Mr. Tomasi when meeting your children?”

  Audrey didn’t mention the kiss, earning his respect—even if it was only prompted by the shyness of innocence. Either way, plainly Audrey wasn’t trying to trade on their explosive attraction. Most women whom he had shared any sort of intimacy with expected to get something out of it, satisfying orgasms notwithstanding.

  Audrey had some other point to make by using his first name that she patently expected him not only to understand but to agree with. He’d found this happening several times during their interview.

  It should annoy, but instead her honest and often black-and-white viewpoint fascinated him.

  As an international business and powerbroker, Enzu found his reality had a lot more shades of gray.

  “Their nanny calls me Mr. Tomasi,” he pointed out.

  “But you aren’t hiring a nanny, are you?” She seemed to be trying to read something in his face, with no indication if she’d found what she was seeking. “You’re looking for a wife who will be their mother.”

  “You have a point.”

  He could feel her mentally rolling her eyes, even though she didn’t allow her expression to go there. It suddenly struck him that although Audrey Miller had undeniable trepidation about sex, she wasn’t actually afraid of him. She hadn’t been intimidated the first time she approached him and that hadn’t changed.

  Even with $250,000 a year and a ten-million-dollar bonus on the line.

  This woman was definitely unique.

  “I am used to my employees being in awe of me.”

  She laughed like he was joking. “None of your other employees has the prospect of a sexual compatibility test-drive hanging over their head. Do they?”

  “Of course not.” And he had no idea what that had to do with the way she approached him as just any other man. “And the prospect should hardly be seen as the Sword of Damocles by you, either.”

  “Says the man who uses sex as a stress-reliever. You know you could just take up Judo, or something. Join a gym.”

  Enzu surprised himself with an unfettered laugh. “I’ll take the sex, thanks. And I already work out six days a week.”

  “Six? I let Toby push me into running with him three times a week and that’s plenty. What are you? Obsessed?”

  “Not hardly.” But Enzu’s lifestyle had the natural byproduct of an excess of adrenaline. A solid cardio and weight regime helped him manage it. Enzu had no intention of having a heart attack before he was forty.

  “It’s a surprise you have energy left over for sex.”

  “I promise I do.”

  She huffed out something he didn’t quite catch.

  It might have been something about an oversexed throwback, but he wasn’t going to ask her to repeat it. “You will enjoy it, I promise you.”

  “That remains to be seen.”

  He had a sudden urge to kiss that prim look right off her lovely features. He could not help remembering just how much they would both enjoy that. “I think we proved prospects are good already.”

  She opened her mouth, shook her head and closed it again.

  He waited to see what would come out next.

  “How long is the drive to your house?” Audrey asked, clearly ready to put the subject of sex to rest.

  “Ninety minutes.”

  “That can’t be convenient.”

  He shrugged. “I can work in the car. When I am in a hurry I use the helicopter.”

  “Still, a three-hour commute every day has to be murder.”

  “I only go to the house on the weekends. The top floor of Tomasi Enterprises is divided into three apartments. Mine takes half of the building space and the two smaller ones are used for business.”

  “You only see the children on the weekends?” Audrey asked, her tone shocked and not a little disapproving.

  “I assure you this is not an uncommon practice in my world.” Hell, he would hazard that her own father hadn’t made it home to their Boston mansion every night during the work week.

  “But who takes care of them during the week?”

  “Currently a nanny. But if you will remember the answer to that question is why we are currently in this car together.”

  “But children need to see both of their parents—when they have them—on a much more frequent basis. Especially when they are so young.”

  “You are suddenly an expert in childhood development?” he asked, with more humor than irritation.

  She grinned, the sweet humor coming over her features absolutely arresting. “Research. One thing a degree in English Literature is good for…? Learning how to research.”

  “You’ve been studying how to parent small children?” he asked, impressed.

  “How else was I supposed to figure it out? I suppose I could take classes. They offer them now pretty commonly.”

  “Your own mother’s example isn’t one you want to follow?”

  “I don’t remember how she parented me as a small child, but, no, I don’t think I’d want to leave my children to the nanny and the housekeeper like she did Toby.”

  “No. That’s exactly what I’m hoping to avoid for Franca and Angilu.”

  Of the six women he’d interviewed he was certain Audrey was the only one who had taken a proactive approach to preparing herself for the actual nature of the job. His decision to single her out for introduction to the children was proving to be the right one.

  “It pleases me that you’ve taken this initiative.”

  “I’m not in the habit of going into situations blind if I can help it.”

  “We have that in common as well.”

  She laughed, the sound wry. “You take the control-slash-prep thing to heights well beyond me.”

  “I see my reputation precedes me.”

  “Yes. Your attention to detail and insistence on controlling every aspect of a venture is not exactly a secret.” A soft rose washed over her cheeks, but didn’t deepen into a full blush.

  What was that about? Did she think he would mind that she’d done some of that research she was so adept at on him?

  Or did she think he was controlling in the bedroom too? That might disconcert a virgin. However, there could be no denying that his reputation for control in that area was well-earned as well.

  Audrey would come to appreciate it, he was sure.

  “I hope I’m dressed all right,” she said, in a clumsy bid to change the subject. “Mother always said a lady’s wardrobe didn’t include a pair of jeans, but I live in them outside the office.”

  Enzu took in Audrey’s form-fitting jeans and the tangerine sweater with a scooped neckline that hinted at modest curves. Her trainers weren’t brand-new, but they didn’t look over-worn, either.

  She wore only a small pair of gold earrings, no
other jewelry, and had pulled her silky brown hair up into a ponytail.

  It was a more casual look than he was used to among the women of his acquaintance, but he couldn’t say he found it displeasing. “I do not think the children will care.”

  “No, I suppose not.” She gave him a very serious look from her melting chocolate eyes. “I haven’t forgotten what we were talking about.”

  Funny, he’d thought she wanted to. “Oh?”

  “If you live in the city during the week, then the children should also live there.”

  Okay, he had forgotten that discussion.

  “You cannot be serious?” He could not imagine two small children in his sleekly modern penthouse.

  “I am if you are.”

  “What does that mean?”

  “If you are as committed to being your niece and nephew’s dad as you expect the woman you hire to be their mom, then you’ll do whatever is in your power to see them as often as possible.”

  “Children need a place to play, to be able to go outside.”

  “So take them to the park. Create a rooftop garden, if the building doesn’t have one already. You’re a billionaire. You’ve got options.”

  He was disconcerted to discover he realized she was right. He did have options, if he was willing to look outside the box. And apparently Audrey was.

  He ruthlessly stomped down the urge to reach out and touch this amazing woman. “You didn’t have options. Six years ago.”

  “No. I didn’t.” Old pain flared in her eyes, then disappeared just as quickly. “But I did my best for Toby with what I had.”

  “You did an excellent job, by all accounts.”

  “You investigated Toby too?” she asked, and then shook her head. “Of course you did.”

  “It’s no small thing he’s won a scholarship to MIT.”

  “It’s partial.”

  “Yes.”

  And dependent on Tobias completing his senior year with a full courseload of advanced classes and a near-perfect grade point average.

  Considering how well the young man had done thus far, Enzu had no doubts on that score. Apparently the prestigious university didn’t, either.

  “He is the reason you want this position, isn’t he?” It was the only key issue they hadn’t touched on in the interview.

  Generally Enzu preferred to draw his own conclusions about people’s motivations. If asked, they often lied. However, he found he wanted confirmation of his suppositions in her case.

  “Partly, yes.”

  “Your parents refuse to help with his schooling?” he asked.

  “They wouldn’t have paid child support if the state hadn’t forced them.”

  “That is criminal.” Enzu might have been born in the United States, but his family was Sicilian and he’d spent every summer in the Old Country until he’d started working at the bank.

  Even then he’d spent several weeks a year with his extended family.

  A Sicilian took care of his children. No exceptions. His father and brother might not have gotten the memo, but Enzu had.

  A Sicilian who had the chance to send his child to a good school? He sacrificed whatever was necessary to do so, just as his great-great-grandfather had done for his own son, paving the way for the foundation of their family’s current fortune.

  The Millers weren’t rich like Enzu, but they were wealthy and could easily afford to send their son to MIT without the scholarship.

  Audrey let out a low, bitter laugh. “I always thought so, but I’ve learned one thing about my parents. If they can’t control their children, that is considered failure, and failure is unacceptable. Better to write it off completely.”

  “Were they always like that?”

  “I didn’t notice so much as a child, but then I lived in my own world of books and make-believe.” She sighed. “They were always cold, hard to please. I don’t remember them ever telling us they loved us, so I should not be surprised it turned out that they didn’t.”

  “And yet they had four children?”

  “The first two were planned and exactly to spec. I was Mother’s oops baby of her thirties and Toby was her little accident in her forties.”

  “No child is an oops or an accident.” Enzu was outraged on her behalf.

  His parents were self-serving and allergic to responsibility, but they had never made him feel like they would rather he’d not have been conceived, much less born. Quite the opposite, in fact.

  Enzu was certain that his father had been planning for the day he could abdicate his business responsibilities to his son from the day of Enzu’s birth.

  “I agree, but then as the official oops I’m prejudiced in my thinking.”

  “Franca is not Johana’s child.” Enzu had not meant to admit that, but eventually he would have to tell Audrey if she turned out to be the successful candidate.

  That eventuality was looking more and more likely.

  “I know. They didn’t even start dating until three years ago.”

  “You’ve done your own research.”

  “Are you surprised?”

  “No. More impressed.”

  “Funny. I find your dossier on me invasive.”

  “Perhaps I am too used to being the focus of unrelenting interest.”

  “Your brother and parents spend a lot more time in the forefront of the media.”

  “It takes a great deal of effort and foresight on my part to keep my own affairs private.”

  “That explains it.”

  “Explains what?”

  “Why there’s all sorts of information about the business exploits of the man who took over his family bank’s presidency at twenty-three and became a billionaire by the time he was thirty-five. But no girlfriends. No exploits.”

  “I do not indulge in girlfriends or exploits worthy of media attention.”

  “Or if you do you do a very good job of hiding your involvement.”

  “For instance?”

  “Tomasi Enterprises funnels financial resources into a fund that has donated significant amounts to disaster relief ever since the levies broke in New Orleans.”

  “How did you find that out?”

  “I told you, research. The study of English Literature requires a fine ability to follow obscure references and threadbare connections.”

  “I see. I guess it’s a good thing the media sharks that target me weren’t English Lit majors.”

  “Why not let people know about your company’s generosity? Wouldn’t that be good for the bottom line?”

  “We have an official charitable donation fund.”

  “But it’s a lot smaller than the amounts you’ve given in secret.”

  “If it weren’t, Tomasi Enterprises would be inundated with requests for money. We aren’t the Red Cross.”

  “I think you’re a lot of things you pretend not to be.”

  Audrey’s expression worried him a little. “Do not make me into a hero. I am not. If you forget the basic truth that I am at heart a ruthless businessman, you will get hurt.”

  “And you don’t want that?”

  “No.”

  “That’s not exactly ruthless.”

  “I didn’t say that if my interests and yours collided I would not hurt you, only that it would be my preference not to.”

  “I’ll try and remember that.”

  He did not like the humor underlying her tone. “Do.”

  “Tell me how you ended up the bank’s president at twenty-three.”

  “My father abdicated.”

  “But didn’t he only take over from your grandfather a few years before that?”

  She really had done her research. “Yes. Grandfather’s heart precluded him continuing in the position. I do not think either of them wanted my father in the chain of command.”

  “Because your father is more interested in having fun than in making the money that makes that fun possible?”

  “You have a way with words.”

 
“That’s how I became a customer service specialist.”

  “I imagine our clients find you a soothing presence on the other end of the phoneline.”

  Audrey grimaced. “Most of the time, yes. Some people are just plain cranky.”

  No doubt. “I tend to expect perfection.”

  “I’m sure you get it.”

  “Most of the time.” He repeated her words.

  She smiled. “You didn’t really answer my question.”

  “I did.”

  “No, you explained the chain of events that led to you being bank president right out of graduate school, but not how you made that work. Most twentysomethings would have ended up sending the bank under.”

  “I worked summers and weekends at the bank since my fourteenth birthday. And then I interned in management while getting my MBA from Columbia. You could say I was raised in the bank.”

  “You never acted like you didn’t want the responsibility, but it couldn’t have been easy watching your brother get to enjoy his youth in a way you never did. Heck, your father was partying up like a twenty-three-year-old when you were busy saving the family fortune.”

  “Why should I have complained?” Enzu asked in genuine confusion. “I always wanted to take over the bank.”

  “Why?”

  Audrey had more insight than most, and Enzu wasn’t sure how he felt about that, but he answered her question with candor. “It was painful to watch it languish under my father’s leadership. Even my grandfather ignored opportunity after opportunity to grow the business. He was too busy catering to a limited clientele with ties back in Sicily.”

  The Sicilian branch, Banca Commerciale di Tomasi, had been the beginning of the bank, but that didn’t mean it had to continue to be the mainstay institution.

  He added, “Tomasi Commercial Bank has always prided itself on being accessible to its Sicilian brethren, but today the American side is far more diversified and international.”

  “So you had plans to expand the bank from the beginning?” she asked, sounding like she found it hard to imagine someone of his age with those aspirations.

  “When I took over, Tomasi Commercial Bank had only three branches on the East Coast. Within three years of me stepping up to the helm we had branches of the bank in all of the biggest U.S. cities.”