Her eyebrows rose. “We’re doing all right,” she said, her tone a bit cool now.
Did she think he’d gotten too nosy? Or did she simply not want to admit that the shop wasn’t making money? He knew how difficult it was for a small business to survive. More than half folded within their first year of operation. It required a good deal of startup capital to acquire stock, hire competent employees, purchase enough advertising to catch the buying public’s attention….
He shrugged. “You’ll do better once Bryan’s involved.”
Everyone knew that Bryan Falcon had an almost magical way of making every business he backed turn a sizeable profit. Donovan was sure Chloe was well aware of her new boyfriend’s business talents—not to mention his notorious talent for charming women.
When she spoke this time, her tone was almost cool enough to deposit ice on his eyelashes. “I don’t expect Bryan to be involved with my business in any way. My sister and I are perfectly capable of running it on our own.”
“I see,” he said—which didn’t mean he believed her, of course. There was no way he’d accept that the financial advantages of marriage to one of the most successful venture capitalists in the country had never crossed her mind.
She frowned at him. “You think I’m only interested in Bryan’s money?”
“I didn’t say that.”
“No—you didn’t say it.” But apparently, she’d interpreted his words that way anyway. She sat back in her seat, her face turned away from him, her posture stiff enough to let him know she’d taken offense.
He thought about trying to apologize, but decided to let it go. For one thing, he was lousy at apologies—hadn’t made enough of them to get good at it. For another—well, hell, of course he figured she was interested in Bryan’s money. He’d met few women—or men, for that matter—who weren’t. And since her own sister had made it clear she didn’t consider this a love match, then Chloe had to have more prosaic reasons for considering marriage to Bryan.
An eminently practical man himself, Donovan supposed he couldn’t blame Chloe for keeping her eyes on the bottom line, but he still didn’t approve of this whole arrangement. Bryan deserved better than to be married for his money.
Donovan believed his friend was overreacting to his last failed romantic relationship. Bryan had been burned by a woman who had convinced him that she wanted him for himself, not his money. The truth of that ruse had been revealed when she’d gone ballistic at the first mention of the rather strict prenuptial agreement that Bryan’s team of attorneys had drafted years earlier. She hadn’t been a good enough actress to convince anyone that the extent of her outrage couldn’t be measured in dollar signs.
Because it hadn’t been the first time Bryan had been deceived, he had come to the conclusion that the only way he could be certain of a potential mate’s motives was to have everything spelled out from the beginning. He wanted children, and he wanted to raise them in a conventional two-parent family. He’d decided he should approach marriage the same way he started a new business—with legal contracts, long-term planning, calculated risks and clearly defined benefits.
Donovan had tried to point out that one didn’t choose a wife the same way one hired a financial officer, but Bryan had shrugged off the admonition. To him, it had seemed like a perfectly logical plan.
He’d told Donovan about the day in February when he had wandered into Chloe’s shop while on a break from a day-long meeting being held nearby. They’d started talking, then had somehow ended up having coffee together at the popular River Market pavilion. Bryan claimed to have known very quickly that Chloe was exactly the sort of woman he’d been searching for since he’d made the decision a few months earlier to enter into a practical marriage.
Donovan had never been accused of being even remotely romantic, but Bryan’s plan seemed too cold and calculated even for him. He couldn’t help wondering if someday Bryan was going to feel that he’d settled for less than he could have had, if he would always be aware that something important was missing.
Since he himself had no strong desire to reproduce, Donovan figured his way was easier—he didn’t plan to marry anyone. Any relationships he entered into were strictly short-term and no-strings, so motives didn’t really matter.
He was convinced that his strategy was the most practical of all.
They’d been on the road for almost an hour when Donovan realized that Chloe’s posture was still unnaturally rigid. Her hands were still laced tightly together, her short pink nails digging into skin.
“Are you okay?” he couldn’t resist asking. “My driving isn’t making you nervous or anything, is it?”
His question brought her head around. “Of course not. You seem to be an excellent driver. I’m not nervous about anything at all.”
Definitely a lie, he decided, glancing again at her telltale hands. “You just seemed a little tense.”
“I’m fine.” She looked straight ahead again as she spoke. “What is it you do in Bryan’s organization, exactly?”
He shrugged. “Whatever he needs me to do.”
“Such as escorting me today?”
Since the answer to that seemed obvious, he allowed it to pass.
“You’ve been out of the country for the past few months,” she tried again. “In…Italy?”
“Venice. I was there for almost three months.”
“That must have been very nice.”
“It was business.”