His Virgin Acquisition Read Free Page B

your wallet. I’m fully capable of supporting myselffinancially, and as for my taste in men…well, it doesn’t run toward relics from bygone eras.”
    A slow smile spread across his face. “We have a deal,” he said.
    She stuck out her hand and he shook it in mild amusement. The woman was all business. Except when she blushed.
    “Well, Mr. De Luca, it will be a pleasure working with you.” The professional smile she had entered with was pasted firmly back into place. “I’ll have my lawyer contact yours, and they can begin drafting the prenuptial agreement. Send me a copy of your calendar so that we can make a decision on the wedding date.”
    “Of course,” he said. She turned to go, her pants tightening against her pert, rounded backside as she strode to the door. “Ms. Chapman?” She stopped and turned to face him again. “I’ll pick you up tomorrow at eight. We’re going to go shopping for an engagement ring in the morning.”
    She looked as if she wanted to say something. Her lips quivered, then hardened, but she remained silent.
    “Oh, and be sure to wear something…feminine.”

Chapter Two
    E LAINE glared at her bedside clock as the shrill alarm reminded her that it was time to get out of bed. She hadn’t slept at all. She’d just twisted around in a tangle of sheets, second-guessing everything that had taken place the previous day.
    She was no romantic—far from it. She was a pragmatist right down to her ugly shoes. Marriage, at its heart, was only a business arrangement anyway. The signing of a contract to legally bind two people together, with certain penalties applying should the agreement be broken.
    But suddenly it seemed so much bigger than just signing a contract. She was actually marrying the man.
    She swung her legs over the side of her bed and padded over to her closet. Wear something feminine, he’d said. If only she didn’t need his help so badly she would have told him exactly where he could stick his opinions on her style of dress. But she wasn’t about to blow this deal by being stubborn over every small demand. She would save up for the big things. This, although a blow to her pride, she could do.
    She rifled through the tightly packed closet. Nothing but severe-looking suits in dark colors. Practical, but not exactly pretty. Certainly not feminine .
    Although his idea of feminine was probably a corset and fishnet stockings!
    There was a pale yellow dress wadded up into a ball and stuffed in the far reaches of the closet. She picked it up and shook out the wrinkles. It had flowers. And it was a dress. That, she supposed, would qualify it as feminine .
    She took a quick shower and shaved her legs hurriedly. She got out and propped her leg up on the vanity, dabbed at the razor cut on her knee, then made the fatal error of looking in the mirror. She grimaced at the face staring back at her. There were deep purple shadows under her eyes from lack of sleep. She looked like a raccoon.
    It had been a long time since she’d tried to play up her looks. These days she took care to tone down her beauty by wearing suits that camouflaged her hourglass figure and by pulling her long golden hair into the tightest bun she could manage. She didn’t like the way she looked, but at least it had made the guys at work stop patting her on the behind and sending her off to make coffee.
    She looked at her make-up bag, shoved against the back of the vanity. It was actually dusty. She did a mental calculation on when she’d gone to her last charity ball. Six months ago. That was how long it had been since she’d touched make-up. But it was desperately needed now.
    Even without the raccoon eyes she would feel inadequate enough on the arm of a man who looked like Marco De Luca.
    He was the perfect example of how it was different for men and women in the workplace. Where his looks were an asset to him, hers made men treat her like their own personal Barbie doll and made women treat her as if she was the