Indecent Proposal...
Indecent
Proposal
Manwhore. That's what the board of
directors-and the tabloids-thinks of billionaire bachelor Reese Crane.
Ordinarily he couldn't care less, but his playboy past is preventing the board
from naming him CEO of Crane Hotels. Nothing-and no one-will keep him from his
life's legacy. They want a settled man to lead the company? Then that's exactly
what he'll give them.
Merina Van Heusen will do anything
to get her parents' funky boutique hotel back-even marry
cold-as-ice-but-sexy-as-hell Reese Crane. It's a simple business contract-six
months of marriage, absolute secrecy, and the Van Heusen is all hers again. But
when sparks fly between them, their passion quickly moves from the boardroom to
the bedroom. And soon Merina is living her worst nightmare: falling in love
with her husband . . .
Even with her nostrils flared, Merina
forced a smile. There was only one way past this gatekeeper. She called up an
ounce of poise—an ounce being the most she could access at the moment. “Merina
Van Heusen to see Reese Crane.”
“Ms. Van Heusen,” the woman said, her tone
flat, her eyes going to the doorknob in Merina’s hand. “You’re here regarding
the changes to the hotel, I presume.”
“You got it,” Merina said, barely
harnessing her anger. How come everyone was so damn calm about dismantling a
town landmark?
“Have a seat.” Crane’s bulldog gestured one
manicured hand at a group of cushy white chairs, her mouth frowning in disgust
as she took in Merina’s dishevelment. “Perhaps I could fetch you a towel
first.”
“I won’t be sitting.” She wasn’t about to
be put in her place by Reese’s underling. Then her prayers were answered as the
set of gleaming wooden doors behind the secretary’s desk parted like the Red
Sea.
Jackpot.
Merina barreled forward as the woman at the
desk barked, “Excuse me!”
Merina ignored her. She wouldn’t be delayed
another second…or so she thought. She stopped short when a woman in a very
tight red dress, the neckline plunging into plentiful cleavage, her heels even
higher and potentially more expensive than Merina’s Louboutins, swept out of
the office and gave her a slow, mascaraed blink back. Then she sashayed around
Merina, past the bulldog, and left behind a plume of perfume.
Interesting.
Reese’s latest date? An escort? If Merina
believed the local tabloids, one and the same. Paying for dates certainly
wasn’t above his pay grade.
Before the doors closed, she slipped into
Reese’s office.
“Ms. Van Heusen!” came a bark behind her,
but Reese, who stood facing the windows and looking out upon downtown, said
three words that instantly shut his secretary up.
“She’s fine, Bobbie.”
Merina smirked back at the sour-faced,
coal-eyed secretary as Reese’s office doors whooshed shut.
“Merina, I presume.” Reese still hadn’t
turned. His posture was straight, jacket and slacks impeccably tailored to his
muscular, perfectly proportioned body. Shark or not, the man could wear a suit.
She’d seen the photos of him in the Trib
as well as Luxury Stays, the hotel
industry’s leading trade magazine, and like every other woman in Chicago, she
hadn’t missed the gossip about him online. Like his more professional photos,
his hands were sunk into his pant pockets, and his wavy, dark hair was styled
and perfect.
Clearly the woman who had just left was
here on other business…or past business. If something more clandestine was
going on, Reese would appear more mussed. Then again, he probably didn’t muss
his hair during sex. From what she gleaned about him via the media, Reese
probably didn’t allow his hair to
muss.
The snarky thought paired with a vision of
him out of that suit, stalking naked and primed, golden muscles shifting with
each long-legged step. Sharp, navy eyes focused only on her…
He turned to face her and she snapped out
of her imaginings and blinked at the stubble covering a perfectly angled jaw.
What was it about that hint of dishevelment on his otherwise perfect visage
that made her breath catch?
Thick dark brows jumped slightly as his
eyes zoomed in on her chest.
She sneered before venturing a glance down
at her sodden silk shirt. Where she saw the perfect outline of both nipples. A
tinge of heat lit her cheeks, and she crossed her arms haughtily, glaring at
him as best she could while battling embarrassment.
“Seems this April morning is colder than
you anticipated,” he drawled.
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A former job-hopper, Jessica Lemmon resides in Ohio
with her husband and rescue dog. She holds a degree in graphic design currently
gathering dust in an impressive frame. When she’s not writing super-sexy
heroes, she can be found cooking, drawing, drinking coffee (okay, wine), and
eating potato chips. She firmly believes God gifts us with talents for a
purpose, and with His help, you can create the life you want.
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1 comment:
Thank you for featuring THE BILLIONAIRE BACHELOR!
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