The Millionaire's Unexpected Proposal (Entangled Indulgence)

by Jane Peden

  “Well,” Camilla said, “I think a couple chocolate chip cookies and a glass of milk might be just what you need to get back to sleep.”

  She got a plastic plate Sam didn’t recognize—he was absolutely sure he didn’t own any dishes with bunnies painted on them—placed two cookies on it, poured some milk into a plastic cup, and snapped on a sippy lid.

  “Fred wants a cookie, too,” JD said, watching her as he hugged his bear. Camilla smiled and put another cookie on the plate.

  “Come on, sweetie,” she said reaching for his hand while she balanced the plate and the cup in the other hand. “Say good night to Sam.”

  JD looked sideways at Sam and dutifully said, “Night, Sam” in his little boy voice and Sam felt his heart melting.

  “Night, JD,” he said, then looked up at the woman holding the little boy’s hand. “Have a good sleep, Camilla.” He knew she wouldn’t be slipping back into his bed later in the night, as pleasant a thought as that was.

  As Camilla headed out of the kitchen and toward the stairs, she glanced back and gave him a look of what he thought was regret. There was no denying she’d wanted him every bit as much as he’d wanted her. For the first time he wondered if rekindling a physical relationship with a woman who had already demonstrated she couldn’t be trusted would be a mistake. What he did know was that right now was probably a good time for a long, cold shower.

  Chapter Five

  When Sam walked in the charity gala with Camilla on his arm, he was sure every eye in the place was on them. In some ways, despite its teeming population and lucrative tourist trade, Miami was a small town. At least among the sort of people who attended these events and had the money to pay the hefty cost for a table, and inflated prices for the auction items. No doubt people were wondering who the stunning blonde was and where she had come from. If the marriage and adoption were going to proceed smoothly, it was important to give the appearance that his relationship with Camilla was real. This was the perfect opportunity to introduce Camilla to the Miami social circles he and has partners moved in. Sam wasn’t overly fond of these events. It was Jonathon who always insisted they not only buy a table but actually attend. At any rate, it was all for a good cause, even though at the moment he couldn’t remember exactly which good cause they were championing tonight.

  The hostess, one of Miami’s nouveau riche and a trophy wife who’d managed to hold on to her husband of more than twenty years, air-kissed Sam on both cheeks and studied Camilla with unabashed appraisal as they were introduced. If she wondered what their relationship was, she was too polite to ask outright. Sam steered the conversation toward the worthy charity she was championing, and she was well able to discuss that at length. Finally, she seized an opportunity to ask Camilla if she was planning to stay in Miami.

  “She will if I have anything to do with it,” Sam said, and gave Camilla a smoldering look that he hoped would start rumors circulating about a hot romance.

  “Did you need to be so obvious?” Camilla hissed as they walked away.

  Sam leaned his head in close to hers. “I have a reputation as a confirmed bachelor, darling. My sudden announcement of our engagement will be much easier to believe if certain people have already been speculating that I’m about to take the fall.”

  She frowned. “I don’t know if that makes any sense, but—”

  “If a few of these woman start speculating that an engagement is in the offing, once I announce it they’ll be too busy congratulating themselves on being right to wonder what it was about you that made me give up the single life so quickly.”

  She still didn’t look convinced, and he tightened his grip on her arm.

  “Let me remind you, Camilla, that part of our deal is that we play the loving couple in public. Let’s see if you can’t manage to give at least a few people the impression that we can hardly keep our hands off each other. After all, if I can manage to pretend to be in love with a woman like you, it shouldn’t be that difficult for you to play the part. In fact,” he added, with just a touch of meanness, “I’d imagine it comes rather naturally.”

  Her eyes narrowed at that, but she leaned closer and whispered sweetly, “Since you’re a lawyer, and a tort one at that, I imagine lying and deceiving people comes even more naturally to you.”

  And with that parting shot, she headed to the ladies’ room. He had to admit, Camilla had spunk, and it was a quality he admired.

  …

  To Camilla’s surprise, she heard Sam’s laughter follow her as she stepped away. He may have taken her barb in good spirits, but it didn’t diminish the insult he lobbed at her.

  Play along? She’d play along. Sam was about to find out just how devoted and “loving” she could be.

  She studied herself in the mirror. The look she’d gone for tonight was classic and sophisticated. The cocktail dress she’d picked up at an exclusive boutique at Bal Harbour was Chanel. When she first tried it on she’d thought it was too sexy. The smooth fabric fit her body like a glove, the deceptively simple strapless design leaving her shoulders bare and the high waist and short hemline showcasing her legs. The clever design actually made her breasts look fuller, with a gentle swell of skin above the fabric. But when she’d hesitated, the salesclerk—who, according to her name tag, preferred the title “apparel consultant”—helped her into the trim, fitted jacket and the ensemble was transformed. It was still sexy, yes, but no longer provocative. With her hair pulled back into a French twist, the long line of her neck gave her a regal posture.

  She’d thought Sam would want to present her as conservative and elegant. Instead, he wanted the guests to think they were so passionately in love that they couldn’t wait to be alone? Be careful what you wish for, Sam. She took off the jacket and tossed it over the little stool beside her.

  She pulled lipstick, mascara, and an eyeliner pencil out of her clutch. She took the pencil and added more contrast to the base of her lash line, then smudged it for a sexy, smoky look. She added more mascara, and her blue eyes were instantly more dramatic. She applied lipstick liberally, using her lip liner to give the appearance of fuller lips. She studied her hair in the mirror, then decided to take down the elaborate twist. Her blond hair fell sleekly into place—she’d been blessed with hair that never needed a straightening iron—and then used the sparkling pin that had held the twist in place to instead sweep back her hair on one side. There. That should do it. The woman who had entered the ladies’ room a few minutes ago looked like she could discuss world affairs over a martini in the evenings and attend garden parties in the afternoon. The woman who stared back at her now looked like she’d rather tumble into bed than discuss politics. The kind of woman who stayed out all night, then slept in late and enjoyed champagne cocktails at brunch.

  If that was the impression Sam wanted her to make, she could certainly oblige him. With a toss of her hair she headed back to find Sam. And she made sure she swayed her hips just a little when she walked.

  …

  “Oh Lord.”

  “What?” Sam turned, following Jonathon’s gaze. He felt like all the blood immediately drained out of his brain and headed straight for his groin.

  Jonathon turned back to him. “Is that the same dress she was wearing when you came in? Funny, I didn’t notice how she seems to be poured in it.”

  “She had a jacket on,” Sam muttered. “Where the hell is her jacket?”

  “Why would you want to cover that up with a jacket?” Jonathan mused. He turned back to Sam. “Maybe I’ll look her up after the divorce,” he said in a low voice.

  “You keep away from her,” Sam growled, reacting automatically and not stopping to wonder why he would even care.

  It was certainly taking her long enough to walk across the ballroom, Sam thought. And did she have to stop and chat with everyone who spoke to her on the way? And most of them men.

  He strode across the floor, catching up with her just as she was laughing at something a normally stony-faced senior j
udge said to her.

  “Sam,” she said, turning to him and putting a hand on his shoulder as she moved her body next to him. “I was wondering where you’d gone off to.”

  “I’d gone off to our table,” he said, then turned to shake the judge’s hand. “Good to see you, sir.”

  “Sam Flanagan,” the elder jurist said. “You certainly have good taste in dinner companions.” He turned to Camilla. “It was a pleasure meeting you, Miss Winthrop.”

  “Camilla, please,” she said, practically cooing at the old man.

  “Well, only if you call me Stu,” Judge Stevenson said, jovially, and Sam tried to keep his mouth from falling open. The Honorable Herbert T. Stevenson, who’d retired after more than thirty years on the bench, was known for being a stickler for formality and for lacking any discernible sense of humor.

  “Well, Stu,” Camilla said, pressing her hand in his, “it was a pleasure speaking with you. I’ll look forward to hearing more stories about your years on the bench next time we meet. Honestly you really should put it all in a book someday. It shows a whole different side of our judicial system.”

  Judge Stevenson’s cheeks flushed a bit. “Well, actually Camilla, I’ve been thinking about doing just that.”

  “Good for you!” she said. “If you do, make sure Sam and I are on the list for your autographing party.”

  “You bet,” the judge said, then gave Sam a sterner look. “Now see here that you don’t leave this young lady wandering around by herself again, Mr. Flanagan. Mind your manners.”

  “Um, yes, sir, I’ll be sure to do that,” Sam said, as Judge Stevenson nodded briskly, then winked at Camilla before heading back toward the bar.

  “What did you put in his drink?” Sam asked, as he steered her toward their table.

  “I don’t know what you mean,” she said, giving him an innocent look.

  “That man is never friendly. He eats lawyers for breakfast. We had a party when he retired from the bench.”

  “You threw him a party?”

  “No, the lawyers had a party. Judge Stevenson wasn’t invited.”

  “Well, I thought he was charming,” she said.

  “Right. I think you’re the one who’s been charming every man in the room between the ages of nineteen and eighty.”

  She looked up at him from under those long lashes—had he noticed before how really long her lashes were? He’d certainly noticed those brilliantly blue eyes before, but at the moment he couldn’t seem to take his own eyes off them.

  “Why don’t you try charming me, Camilla?” he said, and she laughed softly.

  “Is that what you want, Sam?”

  What he wanted wasn’t something he could discuss in public, so he settled for pulling her out onto the dance floor just as the band was settling into a slow and sultry ballad.

  The champagne would keep flowing through dinner, Sam knew, in the hopes that wallets would get looser once dessert was served and the bidding started on auction items that nobody needed but many would be unable to resist.

  Camilla danced effortlessly and beautifully, and he reminded himself that her mother had been a former dancer turned Vegas showgirl, so apparently she came by it naturally.

  She seemed to anticipate his every move, dancing as if they were one body. As the song slowed, she slid both arms up, clasping her hands behind his neck and resting her cheek against him. His hands moved to her waist and he resisted the urge to slide them down just a little lower over the smooth fabric that hugged her bottom.

  He’d wanted people to think he could barely keep his hands off her. He hadn’t counted on it being true.

  When the song ended and they headed back to the table, Jonathon was watching them with unabashed speculation.

  “You have a problem?” Sam asked as he sat down beside him, with Camilla on Sam’s other side.

  “Not as long as you tell me it’s your brain that’s still doing the thinking.”

  “Nothing to worry about,” Sam assured him, but he leaned over to Camilla, his lips close to her ear.

  “What do you think you were doing out there?”

  Instead of answering, she turned her head toward him. Her lips were a tantalizing fraction of an inch from his own, and it was the most natural thing in the world to brush his mouth across hers. That was all he meant it to be—a quick brush of lips.

  She responded by putting her hand behind his neck and pulling him closer so that he appeared, to anyone watching, to be pushing against her instead of the other way around. He could taste champagne on those slick red lips as they parted in invitation, beguiling him, pulling him into a kiss that was hot and demanding. They only moved apart when an amused voice from across the table asked if maybe they would like to get a room.

  Then the little witch actually blushed prettily, and cooed, “Oh, Sam, you’re embarrassing me.”

  She looked over at the banker who shared their table as Jonathon’s guest and said she was so sorry to carry on like that, and she’d try to behave.

  Which of course had the man falling all over himself assuring her he’d only been kidding, and yet another man fell under her spell. His wife was apparently equally charmed, as she told Camilla how “refreshing” it was to see a young couple so obviously in love.

  You’d think she’d have stopped there, Sam reflected as the evening progressed, but no. Instead she took every opportunity to whisper in his ear, gaze adoringly at him with those amazing eyes, and still manage to give the impression all the time that he was the one pursuing her. By the time dessert was served, her chair had ended up a good six inches closer to him, and a long, silky leg had somehow gotten intertwined with his. If she got any closer she’d be sitting in his lap.

  When he’d told her to play the devoted couple he’d never expected her to take it so literally. And he was sure now that she was completely enjoying his discomfort while she put on her little public display of seduction. After the way she’d tormented him all evening, he wasn’t sure which was more tempting—taking her to bed, or putting her across his knee.

  She apparently thought she had him just where she wanted him. At least her antics had given him the perfect excuse to make an early exit and haul her out of there, since by now virtually everyone in the place thought that he was completely under her spell. She waved good-byes with a smug little smile as he pulled her toward the door, stopping by the ladies’ room just long enough to retrieve the jacket she’d discarded earlier.

  He’d see if she was as flirty and sure of herself once he got her in the backseat of the limo.

  …

  After a few glasses of champagne, Camilla was pleasantly relaxed. Flirting openly with Sam had been so much fun, especially since he’d been the one controlling everything since the moment she’d shown up at his office. It was about time the tables were turned a little. And it had been no hardship falling into the pretense that they were in love. Sam was utterly charming when he wanted to be, and the way he filled out a tuxedo would make any woman’s heart beat a little faster. Somewhere during the evening she’d crossed the line from pretending to be attracted to him to really feeling the chemistry igniting between then. Apparently her body hadn’t gotten the memo that none of this was real.

  She glanced over at Sam. He looked tense, his jaw set in a hard line. His eyes darkened as they met hers.

  “I want you over here.”

  “Okay.” She moved over closer to him, intending to take the seat beside him, but he gripped her arms and held her facing him.

  “Now.” He pulled her onto his lap so that she was straddling him, her short dress sliding up her thighs, and she felt her attraction to him spike into sharp arousal.

  She heard herself gasp. The intensity of her response to him was way beyond anything she remembered from Vegas.

  All the flirting between them over the long evening had led to this point, and she couldn’t wait to feel his hands on her skin. He reached behind her and unzipped her dress, then pulled it down so it b
unched around her waist. He shoved her strapless bra up. The cool blast of air-conditioning hit her bare breasts and she felt her nipples pucker. Then, finally, his hands were on her, gripping the sides of her ribs, his thumbs rubbing back and forth none too gently over her nipples. “Sam, wait, the driver—”

  “—is behind the screen. We can do whatever we want.”

  She knew the windows of the limo were darkened, that no one could see in, but she could see them, people on the street, when the limo stopped at a light, slowed to make a turn. Fleeting glimpses of Miami nightlife as the limo sped up, the bright lights of the city blurring. It was fast and shocking and reckless, having his hands on her like this while the city surrounded them. She struggled to catch her breath and watched his eyes darken with arousal.

  “You play the game very well, Camilla.” His breath was hot on her neck as he pulled her closer, his hand sliding up under the back of her dress, across the band of lace on her cheeky panties. They’d been practical under the smooth silk of the tight black dress. Now they seemed wanton.

  She squirmed on his lap, and the feel of her bare skin against his tuxedo pants was wildly erotic.

  “I don’t know what you mean,” she said, the words a breathy gasp, as he mercilessly tweaked her nipples, first one and then the other, between this thumb and forefinger until the sensations shooting through her body were almost unbearable.

  His voice was low, with an edge of amusement. “The coy looks, the flirtatious smiles, clinging to my side like a lover. Everyone in that room thought we couldn’t wait to get our hands on each other.”

  “That’s what you said you wanted.” She’d taken perverse delight in tormenting him all evening, but he deserved it. What she hadn’t anticipated, though, was that by stirring him up she’d stirred herself up as well. If anything, the fact that neither of them liked the other very much at the moment seemed to inflame their attraction rather than dampen it.

  “Yes, that’s what I wanted. You made it obvious you couldn’t wait until we were alone and you could have my undivided attention. Maybe you should be careful what you wish for.”