She wondered if Sawyer had ever had that experience in his life.

Julietta had stayed up all night analyzing every detail of their last encounter like a lovesick teen. The way he demanded she deal with him and her emotions. The way he never crumbled or became intimidated by her cool words, choosing instead to look beyond and find the truth. Her head said to stay away, but her body and heart cried out for more.

While she tossed and turned and waited for dawn, an odd truth finally revealed itself. She took many chances in her work world but had never taken one leap in her personal life. over and over she walked away from complica-tions or the threat of unrest in her safe little bubble. Now, all her siblings were happily married, starting families, and she was still alone.

Julietta drummed her nails against her desk and focused on her papa. Would he be proud of her? or would he have shaken his head in regret at her inability to take a leap? Though he’d frown on engaging in a sexual affair with no permanence, Julietta knew she had to follow it through.

Sawyer gave no guarantees, but he was truthful. For now, she wanted to throw caution away and engage in a heady, passionate affair that might lead to more. It was time she took a chance on a man who made her experience emotions she never believed possible. The next time she saw him, she’d be clear about her intentions.

With a satisfied smirk, she rose from the desk and kicked off her shoes. She’d go nuts if she had to look at the crooked angle one more moment. Julietta dragged over the cream-colored chair and climbed up. She stretched out her fingers but only brushed the edge. Hmm, the furniture was heavy enough that if she stood on the top wooden arch of the chair she’d just be able to right the painting. She yanked up her skirt a few inches for better reach. Propping one hand against the wall for balance, she stepped up, wobbled, and clutched the edge of the heavy gilded frame. one inch. Two. one more toward the right and— “What are you doing?”

The familiar voice boomed through the room. Startled, she scrambled for footing, slipped, and fell back into nothingness.

The automatic yell of fear died on her lips as strong arms broke her descent. The breath whooshed out of her as she slammed into a hard muscled chest. He staggered back one step, two, then righted himself. She looked up and fought the immediate urge to cover that sensual mouth with hers. Mio Dio, he was physically perfect. A face straight from heaven, with lips blessed by the demons.

“What the hell is wrong with you?” His brows drew together in a fierce frown, and eyes as golden as buried treasure shot sparks of anger. “Can’t you ask for help with anything? Are you so much a control freak you’d rather break an ankle than let a man move a goddamn painting?”

Her gratitude died in her throat. Julietta found her footing and broke out of his embrace. Shoulders thrown back, she carefully slid on her heels and shot him a glare. “Why?

Is it easier for a man to move a goddamn painting even though he’s the same height as me? Because I’m taller than most of my employees. I don’t have a penis, though, so that must make a difference.”

“oh, for God’s sake, I meant ask anyone! How about your secretary holding your legs so you at least have a spotter? or does that compete with your ‘I am woman, hear me roar’ crap?”

She gazed back at him in icy stillness. “I was just straightening a painting, Sawyer. Not trying to prove a point for equality of the sexes. Maybe you should ask yourself why you’re so pissed off you can’t control my actions?”

He spit out a humorless laugh and shoved his fingers through his hair. of course, that only gave him the tousled, right-out-of-bed look that curled her toes in her sensible pumps. “Do you always have a smart-ass answer?”

“I always have an answer, period. Why are you so upset?”

He muttered something under his breath. “I didn’t sleep well last night.”

She studied the faint lines under his eyes and the strain around his mouth. Her anger burned away, and she took a step closer. “Mi dispiace, can I help with anything?”

She reached out to touch his arm, but he took a hasty step back. She stared at him. A cold ball of dread settled in the pit of her stomach at his inability to meet her gaze and the panic on his face. obviously, he didn’t want her to touch him. Which meant— “I thought about what you said last night.” The words seemed forced from his lips, but she made herself stand still and listen. “I think you were right.”

She refused to give him the satisfaction of letting him believe he meant something to her. Julietta forced a smile.

“I’m so glad. I was afraid it would be strange between us, and this deal is more important than a—what do you Americans say—a roll in the hay?”

His gaze lifted and pinned her. He looked deep, saw the lie, and accepted it anyway. Sawyer nodded. “yes. Thank you for putting up with me. I promise not to make you un-comfortable again.”

“of course. Are we still meeting today at three?”

“yes.”

“excellent. Thanks for coming to say this in person.”

“you are welcome.”

The excruciating politeness hurt more than knives rak-ing blood. Desperate to get him out of the office before a fissure broke in her facade, she turned and grabbed a file from her desk. “I better get back to work. See you later.”

She tore through pages where words blurred and heard the door open.

“I’ll never forget those two nights together, Julietta.

your gift to me was—priceless.”

He left. Julietta looked at the painting, now perfectly straight, and suddenly knew why she never took risks in her personal life.

…

When Sawyer got the call, he originally planned to give her an excuse and say he couldn’t make it. After all, he wasn’t lying. His schedule was packed tighter than a woman’s luggage. The last thing he needed with his sudden emotional upheaval was seeing her in the center of the storm. Hell, no. Unfortunately, she was just as stubborn as when he’d first met her, and she’d forced his hand in the only way he’d never refuse.

She’d simply told him she’d be waiting.

Sawyer grabbed for his patience while she served him a cup of strong espresso, less than twenty-four hours after he’d walked out of her home. After many minutes of polite chatter, Mama Conte finally sat across from him, took a sip of her brew, and leveled her gaze.

“I want you to marry my daughter.”

Sawyer looked around for the camera. Son of a bitch.

He’d seen Punk’d on MTV, but hadn’t it been canceled?

Betty White’s candid camera spoof was about old people.

or maybe this was a modern day version of Scare Tactics?

A grin curved his lips. “Sorry, I know about these shows.

you’re not getting me.”

A frown marred her brows. “What shows?”

His grin faded. Come to think of it, why would anyone want to tape this anyway? “I’m sorry, I think I misunder-stood. Did you say you want me to carry your daughter?

Carry her where?”

“Sawyer Wells, do not play stupido with me. I want you to marry my daughter Julietta. The one you are sleeping with.”

A strange squeak emitted from his lips. He’d heard the sound before—usually from weaker men who’d just realized they’d been outwitted and outplayed for food, shelter, or money. odd, he’d never been driven to make the sound before now. Kind of pathetic. reminded him of those mob movies like Goodfellas where the patsy rolled over and whined like a girl while he got the shit beat out of him.

What had she said?

“We’re not sleeping together.” Her disappointed look at his lie made him throw his hands up in front of him.

“We’re not.”

“you were the other night.”

Jesus, this was so not happening. Time to man up and take control of the ridiculous conversation. “okay, yes, we were. We did. But now we are not.”

“Why did you stop?”

“This is really none of your business, Mama Conte.” He kept his words firm as if speaking to an unruly child. “We were together and then decided it was best we continue our relationship in a strictly business format.”

She spit into the air. “Bah, business. My daughter has been obsessed with her career since she was young. This was originally a good thing. It taught her goals, responsibility. She grew into a determined, independent woman we all admire. But she is losing her soul for the good of a profit.”

Sawyer stood up. Whoa, this was not the time or place to dissect Julietta’s life. Not with her mother. Not with the strange feelings he had for Julietta still bubbling up with nowhere to go. The hell with disrespect, he was getting out of here. “Umm, this is not my business. I’m sorry, but I have to go. I’m not sure what you’re thinking, but—”

“Sit down, Sawyer.”

Sawyer sat. Holy crap, was this what mothers did? Used some magic tone like a dom to make their children obey?

She closed her eyes, as if trying to draw strength from above.

When she opened them, a sliver of pure fear trickled down his spine. Mob bosses had nothing on this woman.

“I want you to listen to me. I am old. My heart is weak, my arthritis is strengthening, and I’m in the time of my life where I need to let go of my worries. Many things have been settled and bring me great joy. But there are two things that haunt me at night, keeping me from peace and from sleep, no matter how I try to surrender: my oldest daughter and La Dolce Famiglia.”

Her words came slow, deliberate. Sawyer sat back in his chair and gave her his full attention.

“I built this bakery on sweat, blood, family, and love.

I need to know it will reign for a long time, solid, without causing Julietta to sacrifice everything to keep it going. She will not delegate. She is too proud, too like her papa to believe anyone else can take care of our business. I need to make sure this merger between La Dolce Famiglia and Purity will be the key to her freedom. By signing such a contract, she is bestowing a piece of this legacy into your care. She is entrusting you to succeed, and she will have a long-term partner for support.”

Saywer shook his head in confusion. “Wait a moment.

We already told you the contract is signed. There’s no need for a permanent personal relationship between us. We are both loyal to our word and signed a business agreement.

our respective companies will grow and expand together.

you don’t have to worry about this. I give my word I’ll always look after Julietta and the bakery as my own.”

Her mouth softened into a smile. “you are such a good man, though you still don’t believe it.” She sighed deeply. “I hope that will come with time. I believe you, Sawyer. But contracts are broken all the time, and when the ink dries, and time passes, distance supersedes it all. There is only one way I know of to guarantee Julietta and La Dolce Famiglia will have a partner and supporter I can trust with my life.

Marriage. The sacred vows of marriage pledge a bond never to be broken. This is what I need from you.”

He needed to steer Mama Conte back on course. This was crazy talk. Sawyer decided the best way to blow up the plan was to play devil’s advocate.

“Mama Conte, I think you’re missing some important elements in your idea. First, marriages today are more slippery than business contracts. People get divorced, leave the other, have affairs. Marriage is not what it once was. The sacredness is truly gone.”

She tilted her head in thought. “Marriage is like everything else. It is what the person brings to it—whether it be a vow of celibacy, support, or profit. It is not the covenant that fails, but the people. once you and Julietta make that decision, you will not back away from your responsibilities.

This I know to be true.”

His first full-force panic attack beat at the gates of his mind but he fought back. “okay, fine. Let’s talk about Julietta. We may have slept together, but we don’t love each other. She has no interest in proclaiming forever with me, especially if she’s forced into it. I assume you know your daughter’s stubbornness?”

“I saw her with you. How she looked. How you made her feel.” Memories flashed past his vision, and for a moment, Sawyer glimpsed the woman Mama Conte had been when she was younger. “There are real feelings there, but they are caught up with logic and contracts and a bit of fear. She needs a man who can be a companion, who understands how her work feeds her soul, a man who doesn’t want to change her but accepts every pore of her being.”