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Her Indecent Proposal (The BAD BOY BILLIONAIRES Collection)

Page 4

by Angelo, Judy


  “It took you long enough,” he said in a playful growl but his eyes twinkled as she surfed up to him and she could tell he was pleased she’d come. Well, that was some consolation after his speedy departure from the bedroom.

  “Race you,” he said and took off before she even realized what he was up to.

  “Hey, no fair,” she called out, and he circled and came back to her, a grin on his lips. “For a woman who’s got to respond quickly to sudden changes in the market, you’re real slow.” He was laughing as he teased. “I’ll give you a three second head start. First person to swim across to that rock, wins.”

  “And what do I get when I win?”

  He raised his eyebrows. “Don’t you mean ‘if’?”

  “No, I mean ‘when’.” She raised her own eyebrows – two could play that game – as she spoke with supreme confidence. “I’m not going to do it till you tell me what my reward will be.”

  “Okay,” he said with a shrug. “One billion dollars.”

  She almost slapped him. “Will you be serious?”

  He laughed. “I am. Because I know there is no way on God’s earth you can beat me, I’ll make you that bet. You owe me nothing if I win, by the way, because there’s no doubt in my mind that I will.”

  “You’re on,” she yelled and before he could even turn, she was off.

  And then he was after her. She could hear him behind, gaining on her, and within seconds he’d cut the lead she’d had on him and was neck and neck with her. But soon, as he’d predicted, he swept past her and sailed on to touch the craggy black rock that jutted out of the water. It took another four seconds before Melanie caught up to him.

  “You cheated.” She was panting as she reached out to grab the rugged surface. “You said you’d give me a three second head start.”

  “Yeah, but that was before I had a billion dollars on the line.” He was laughing outright, water still streaming down his face, his dark hair slicked down and dripping.

  “Beast,” she grumbled but her displeasure only seemed to amuse him more. “Okay, what do I get if I’m first to climb on top of this rock?”

  “Nothing,” he said, “because I won’t let you. See those sharp edges? I’m not going to have you mar your flawless skin with all kinds of cuts and scratches.”

  Flawless skin? She could hardly believe her ears. He’d actually noticed something about her?

  “I have a better idea,” he said, and suddenly he didn’t seem quite so amused. The laughter was gone from his steel gray eyes and in its place was a look so intense that, despite the warmth from the sun, she shivered.

  He reached for her then and his hand slid up to cup the back of her head. “I think it’s high time,” he whispered, “that I gave my bride a proper kiss.”

  Then, before she could make a move in protest, he’d pulled her against the solid wall of his chest, dipped his head and was kissing her with a passion that made her world spin. That first moment of contact was a shock but then, with a soft moan, she gave herself over to him, succumbing to the breathtaking ardor of his kiss, melting into him as he wrapped his arms around her.

  And then slowly, gently, he lifted his head, releasing her lips, and her world righted itself. “Delicious.” His voice was low but his eyes burned into her. “I can’t wait to taste the rest of you.”

  The words sent a frisson of awareness all the way up her spine. Sloane wanted her and if his kiss was anything to go by, he would be a superior lover.

  The question was, could she handle it?

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  Melanie was glowing tonight. As Sloane sat across from her at the secluded table in The Gazebo, the open-air tree house style restaurant, he could not believe this was the same woman who had invaded his office with her crazy baby-making scheme. She’d seemed so straight-laced, uptight and rigid, every bit the CEO. Now that woman seemed far removed from the one who sat across from him, soft and relaxed and smiling. It was quite the transformation and he liked it. Taking her to Jamaica had obviously been a good idea. She’d been coiled tight as a spring but now all that tension was gone and he meant to keep things that way, at least for as long as she was on the island. That was the only way she was ever going to open up to him, let him get to know the real Melanie Parker. Or, as of the last thirty hours, the real Melanie Quest.

  But as the night progressed and it came closer to the time for them to leave he noticed a change in her demeanor. She began to throw nervous glances his way and, more than once, he caught her twisting her napkin in her hand.

  He frowned. “Are you all right?”

  She jumped then reached for her glass of water. “Uhm…yes. Why?”

  “You’re kind of jumpy all of a sudden.” He looked at her through narrowed eyes. “Do I scare you?”

  “No,” she said quickly, “not at all.” But the flush rising up her neck made that statement an obvious lie. He stared at her for a moment longer until she dropped her eyes and started fiddling with the stem of her glass. If she wasn’t careful she’d be spilling the thing in another minute. “Look,” he said, his voice cold with annoyance, “you don’t have to do anything you don’t want to. I’m not going to force you, if that’s what you’re scared of.”

  “No, please, I…” She drew in a deep breath and let it out slowly then she raised her eyes to his. “I’m fine. Really. I just need to get used to the idea…that I’m a married woman now.”

  “Well, you are, so deal with it.” She looked shocked at his harsh rejoinder but he didn’t give a damn. How the hell did she plan to ever get this baby if she was going to be so uptight? And besides, she was a grown woman in her thirties, not a teenage virgin.

  He got up, startling her, and dropped his napkin on the table. “Let’s go.” He was behaving like a jerk but he had good reason.

  The fact was, he wanted Melanie. All through dinner he’d been sitting at the table with a boner in his pants, his body tight with anticipation of the coming night. Ever since that kiss in the ocean he’d been holding himself in check, wanting more, but determined to be patient until the time was right. And now that it was time for them to retire to the privacy of their villa, now that it was time for him to take her into his arms and make love to her, she was acting like this? Like she wasn’t sure she was ready? It would drive any red-blooded man to frustration. He wasn’t used to this crap.

  No, in his world, he didn’t have to go hunting. Women offered themselves to him. They didn’t act like they were scared he was going to ravish them. They craved his attention. They sought him out, not the other way around. But Melanie…she was the total opposite of what he was used to.

  As he strode back to the villa, Melanie walking beside him in silence, he shook his head. He was in a heck of a fix.

  But then when he got back to the villa his prickly mood softened. Maybe he was being unfair. Maybe she was not used to his intimidating personality. Maybe her reaction was all his fault.

  And so he made a deliberate attempt to play nice. After all, despite her status as CEO of a multi-billion dollar enterprise, she was obviously no match for the women he’d had in his life, not where handling men was concerned. So, he decided, he’d just take it slow.

  They got to the door but he did not go in. Instead, he reached out and took her hand. “Come here,” he said, but his voice was gentle as he pulled her closer. “Are you all right?”

  “Yes,” she said, her voice quiet as she lowered her eyes. “I’m fine now.”

  “I apologize for my earlier behavior,” he said. “I was a brute. Can you forgive me?”

  She looked up at him then, her eyes wide with surprise. “Of course,” she said. “No hard feelings.”

  “Good.” He looked over at the tropical garden, the pathway lit by soft lights, the leaves and flowers glowing in the light of the moon. “I don’t feel like going in right now. Let’s go for a walk.” And then, suddenly aware that he hadn’t given her a choice, he asked, “Would you like that?”

  Her face
broke into a relieved smile. “I’d love to.”

  So he’d guessed right. She still wasn’t ready for the inevitable. A walk along the beach by the light of the moon should put her in the mood. It would be calming and it would be romantic. Women loved that kind of thing.

  Sloane almost chuckled aloud. He could not believe this was him, being so patient and understanding when what he wanted to do right then was to have this woman lying in bed, naked and panting under him. And then the realization struck. Maybe that was the difference. The woman holding his hand as they walked along the path was like none he’d ever had before. This woman was his wife.

  And although he’d been a playboy all his life, a bad guy in the eyes of many, he did not take marriage lightly and, whatever it took, he was determined to make this work…even if it meant taking it slow, a lot slower than he was used to.

  They spent the next twenty minutes strolling along the sand, saying little, but learning to relax in each other’s company. At least that was what Sloane hoped and, from what he could see, his plan was working. Melanie did not let go of his hand the entire time and in her grasp he could feel the easing of her tension and her increasing comfort with him. When he finally turned to head back to the villa she did not resist. Instead, she leaned into him with a sigh and that was when Sloane knew. She was ready.

  When they got back to the villa he steered her toward the living room couch. “Let me get you a drink,” he said. “White wine?”

  “Perfect,” she breathed as she leaned back and closed her eyes.

  He flipped on some music and the sounds of Bob Marley’s ‘Turn Your Lights Down Low’ filled the room. When he came back with the wine and sat down beside her, Melanie opened her eyes and smiled.

  “Thank you,” she whispered as she took the glass. And this time there was no hesitation in her eyes, only longing. Sloane could see that she wanted him and that was all he needed to know.

  They relaxed into the sofa, sipping wine and listening to the crooning of the reggae singer but as soon as Melanie’s glass was empty Sloane reached over and took it from her then deposited both glasses on the coffee table. With a gentle hand he reached out and tilted her chin, turning her face up toward his, and then he lowered his head to taste those soft, sweet lips, the ones that had been tempting him all evening.

  She was so tantalizing, her lips soft and succulent as she yielded to him. He pulled her closer and there was no resistance there. Heartened by her acquiescence he wrapped an arm around her waist and pulled her onto his lap, giving himself greater access to her lips, the softness of her cheeks, the smooth column of her neck.

  When he released her lips she moaned and clung to him even as he feathered kisses down her neck and over her collarbone. She sighed when he went lower, and when he skimmed the top of her breast she arched up to meet his lips.

  Thrilled at her response Sloane tilted her back, giving himself greater access, and when he slid the spaghetti strap off her shoulder to reveal even more of her breast, she shivered. But it was not from the cold, not when the air of the tropical night was so balmy and warm. No, she’d shivered because she wanted this, probably just as much as he did.

  He hooked his thumb into the other strap and that one went the way of the first, sliding down her arms to reveal her breasts, soft and full, covered by the delicate lace of her strapless bra. She dropped her gaze, probably struck by shyness, but he did not give her a chance to turn away or hide herself. Seizing the moment, he lowered his mouth to her laced-covered bra and planted a kiss on the creamy skin then he slid over the lace to capture a taut nipple between his teeth.

  Melanie gasped and dug her fingers into his arms.

  Sloane took that as license to go on. He sucked the nipple into his mouth, lace and all, and teased and nibbled until Melanie let out a long, low moan. Then he moved to the other breast and gave it the same treatment, chuckling deep in his throat as he felt her squirm with want.

  Releasing the stiff bud, he lifted his head and looked into her brown eyes, now cloudy with desire. “I know exactly what you need,” he said, his voice a hoarse whisper.

  In one fluid movement he rose, lifting her into his arms, and strode toward the bedroom. There, he laid her gently on the bed then proceeded to slide her dress down, revealing inch by delicious inch of her slender body. As the dress went lower, the color rose in her cheeks and she closed her eyes tight. Sloane smiled to himself. It was kind of cute, the way she was acting, like she wasn’t used to having a man admire her beautiful body.

  With the black shift now off, he stood back to admire her sleek beauty, then he reached down to remove her bra.

  “I’ll do it,” she said, her voice hoarse - whether from passion or nerves, Sloane didn’t know, but he chose to believe the former.

  He shrugged. “No problem.” He turned and in quick time he’d divested himself of his own clothes. When he turned back to Melanie she was already under the covers, her eyes huge as she stared up at him. He frowned as he noticed her grip on the bedclothes. Was it possible that she was scared of him?

  Her gaze left his face and skidded down his body and when it reached his groin she sucked in her breath and closed her eyes. Sloane almost laughed out loud. What kind of game was she playing? What, she’d never seen a grown man naked before? He lifted the covers and climbed into the king-sized bed beside her and pulled her into his arms and that was when he realized she was shaking.

  What the…

  “Melanie, what’s the matter?” He stared down at her in confusion but she refused to open her eyes. “Are you scared of me?”

  She shook her head but still she did not look at him.

  “Open your eyes.” He needed to see her, to understand what was going on inside her head. When she still did not open to him his patience grew thin. “Look at me, dammit it.”

  That got the desired reaction. Her eyes flew open and in them was an uncertainty that made him pause.

  And made him sit up. No, it couldn’t be. “Christ, you’re not a virgin, are you?” Was that even possible? A thirty-three year old virgin in the twenty-first century?

  She shook her head. “No, I'm not. I…just haven’t made love in the last five years.”

  Now that caught him by surprise. A woman as attractive as Melanie? But then he understood. This must feel strange to her, almost like new, making love to a man who, despite being her husband, was practically a stranger. “It’s okay,” he whispered. “I’ll be gentle. Just try to relax.”

  He reached out to take her into his arms but she flinched and clutched the sheet even tighter. He frowned. There was definitely more to this than she’d told him.

  “Talk to me, Melanie.” He kept his voice quiet and low, holding his frustration in. The last thing he wanted to do was to frighten her even more. “What’s going on?”

  She gave a soft sigh then bit her lip. Finally, she spoke. “I’ve…always had a problem with sex.” She gave a nervous chuckle. “You’re going to laugh but…it makes me nervous. I just can’t…relax.”

  Sloane did not laugh. There was absolutely nothing funny about what was happening right then. He felt like he’d just swallowed the craggy rock they’d seen in the water. This was serious. “And yet you put yourself in this situation? Just to have a baby?”

  “I didn’t want to have sex,” she said, her tone defensive. “I didn’t even want to get married. You insisted.”

  With a grunt of disgust he got out of the bed and walked out of the room. A cold sliver slid into his heart and he clenched his fists to hold in a burgeoning anger. It was true. He was the one who had insisted on both those conditions. But, for her part, she could have put all her cards on the table…before they walked down the aisle. And with a healthy sex drive like the one he had, he knew he was in big trouble.

  What the hell had he gotten himself into?

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  With five bedrooms in the villa Sloane had no trouble finding a place to sleep. At first, Melanie had been relieved w
hen he stalked out of the master bedroom and then never came back. At least he wouldn’t have her up all night, making her explain the bombshell she’d dropped.

  So she hated sex. So what? Lots of women did.

  But then when she’d stop pouting and bristling from having to defend herself she decided to be a bit more honest, if not with Sloane, at least with herself. What she really hated – or rather, feared – was her own performance in bed because so far it had been nothing but disastrous. And she had two failed relationships to prove it.

  It was over an hour before Melanie’s nerves calmed enough for her to drift off but it was a restless sleep and when the day dawned she groaned, still tired and groggy. And what made it worse, she would now have to face Sloane.

  Even though it was only seven, she dragged herself out of bed and headed for the shower. There was no use putting off the inevitable. It would be so much easier to hide out in bed all morning but she wouldn’t do it. Today, she would meet her monster head on.

  To Melanie’s surprise, when she went out into the living room Sloane was already there. She paused in her tracks, momentarily unsure of what to do, what to say.

  He spoke first. “Couldn’t sleep?”

  Cautiously, she stared back at him, but when she could detect no anger she gave him a rueful smile. “I’m afraid not.”

  He slid his hands into the pockets of his khaki slacks and grunted. “Me neither.” Then his gray eyes grew thoughtful as he stared back at her. “We need to talk,” he said, his voice quiet. “Let’s walk down to the beach.”

  Melanie nodded. She owed him that much.

  The air was fresh and cool as they walked along the pathway, and the moisture from the grass dampened her sandaled feet. She drew in a deep breath, seeking strength for what was to come, and was rewarded with the fragrance of the flowers as they lifted their dewy heads to greet the morning sunshine.

 

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