The Playboy s Proposition

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The Playboy s Proposition Page 10

by Leanne Banks


  “What plans?” Bella asked. “Besides, I got to pursue my dreams last year. It’s your turn now.”

  Charlotte’s brow furrowed. “I don’t want you to be unhappy. Are you still hung up on Stephen?”

  Bella tried, but for a flash of a second, she couldn’t conceal her feelings. “Stephen has moved on. You know that.”

  “And you need to do the same,” Charlotte urged. “Don’t you like Michael?”

  Like, Bella thought. As if such a tame emotion could ever apply to the man.

  “He’s done so much for us,” Charlotte continued. “And he’s so handsome. Doesn’t he treat you well?”

  “Of course he does,” Bella said. “Michael is just a different kind of man than Stephen.”

  “Darn right he is,” Charlotte said. “He’s a leader, not a follower. And if you want him, you’re going to have to give him a run for his money.”

  Bella blinked. “Excuse me?”

  “I mean Michael Medici is worth exerting yourself, and I’m not talking about his money. You never had to exert yourself with Stephen. He was always there for you.”

  “Until I went away,” Bella said, feeling a twinge.

  “That’s just your ego talking,” Charlotte said.

  Bella dropped her jaw in surprise. “That’s not true. Stephen and I were very much in love.”

  Charlotte waved her hand, dismissing Bella’s protest. “You need a man, not a boy. Who knows when Stephen will grow up and stand on his own? Michael Medici is your match. You just need to make sure he knows that.”

  A knock sounded and Charlotte looked at the door, a smile transforming her face. “Oh, that’s Fred. He’s taking me to a traveling production of Wicked.” She walked toward the door. “You need to get out of here and have some fun. You’re starting to act like an old lady.” She threw Bella a kiss. “Good night, Sweetie.”

  Go after Michael? Bella shook her head. She wouldn’t even know how to begin. Besides, she didn’t want him. Not that way. Right? She certainly cared about him as a human being, and she was grateful for his help with her aunt’s business. Her cheeks heated as she remembered their lovemaking. Yes, he was passionate, but he was also emotionally remote. That would never work for her. Bella wanted a man who wore his heart on his sleeve. That was not Michael.

  Her cell phone rang and she glanced at the caller ID. Despite herself, her heart leapt. Irritated, she answered the phone. “Hi, Michael.”

  “I got tickets for a Hawks game tomorrow night. Wanna go?” he asked.

  She wondered why he was asking. All the other times she’d been with him her presence had been required.

  “If you don’t, then—”

  “No,” she said. “I mean yes, I’d love to.”

  “Good, I’ll pick you up at six. We can eat dinner first.”

  Click. She stared at her phone and chuckled to herself. Yeah, now that’s a guy who wears his heart on his sleeve. Not. So why was she already planning what to wear?

  Ten

  T he limo whisked Bella and Michael to the restaurant and he led her inside. She noticed that he barely mentioned his name before the host escorted them to a table with a view of the lighted fountain in the center of the restaurant. Seconds later, a waiter appeared and took their wine order.

  “I’ve heard about this place. It’s beautiful.”

  “A bit theatrical,” he said. “Not bad, though. I’ve been trying to hire the chef away for years.”

  “And the mighty Michael Medici has been unsuccessful?” she teased.

  He shot her a mock dark glare. “The chef is married to the owner’s daughter.”

  She laughed. “I guess that could make it a bit more challenging. I’m surprised you didn’t just buy the restaurant out from under the owner.”

  “I tried,” Michael admitted. “Anthony is a true restauranteur. He’ll be doing this forever.”

  “And you admire him?”

  “Yeah. He came up the hard way. Not the same way I did. But he had it tough.”

  The waiter appeared and took their food order. Midway through their meal, a portly middle-aged gentleman approached their table. “You are enjoying your dinner?” the man asked.

  Michael rose. “Delicious, Anthony. I know where to take someone I want to impress.”

  Anthony laughed and clasped Michael’s hand with both of his. “You are too kind. No matter what you say, I will not sell.”

  Michael sighed. “I had to try. The lady here is quite impressed. Bella St. Clair, may I present Anthony Garfield.”

  Anthony turned to her and extended his hand. “Bella, Bella. I can see why you would want to bring her to my restaurant. Such a woman doesn’t deserve second best.”

  “You’re too kind,” Bella said. “Your restaurant is fabulous.”

  Michael cocked his head to one side. “You’re not referring to my restaurants, are you Anthony?” Michael said, sending Bella a knowing glance.

  Anthony shrugged and his eyes twinkled with competitive humor. “I would never say that. I’ve sent several of my customers to you.”

  “When you were already booked,” Michael said.

  “As you have done to me,” Anthony said. “You’re a master competitor, but you need to be kept on your toes.”

  “And you’re just the man to do it. A great dining experience.”

  “Thank you. High praise from such a man.” He turned to Bella. “You keep him in line, okay?”

  Me? Bella opened her mouth. “I’m not sure it’s possible to keep Michael in line.”

  Anthony gave a quick nod. “Every man has his Waterloo. Good evening to both of you.”

  Michael sat down. “We trade top restaurant pick every other year. As much as I hate getting second place to anyone, I don’t mind as much to him.”

  “He seems to respect you, too,” she said. “I’m surprised you didn’t take me to one of your restaurants.”

  “Didn’t you hear me say that I know where to take someone I want to impress?” he asked.

  She met his gaze, feeling lightning race through her. He couldn’t possibly want to impress her. She wasn’t that important to him. And if she were…Why did the air seem to squeeze out of her lungs?

  They left the restaurant and the limo drove them to Phillips Arena. Michael led her to a private box with an unbeatable view of the court.

  She looked at him. “I guess I shouldn’t ask how you managed this.”

  “I have standing box seats. I often give them away to VIP clients,” he said.

  “I don’t know what to say.”

  “How about go Hawks?” he said and she felt another ripple race through her.

  Throughout the game, she was super-conscious of every time he touched her. First her shoulder, then her hand. His thigh rubbed against hers, distracting her from the game. Once, he slid his hand behind the nape of her neck, and she could have sworn she felt sparkles down her back.

  The game ended far too early, and before she knew it they were in the limo again.

  “Do you want a nightcap, or are you ready to go back to your apartment?” he asked.

  Frustration twisted through her. He had confused the living daylights out of her. A heavy sigh poured from her.

  “Problem?” he asked.

  She bit her lip, wondering if she should say anything. Wondering if she could. “Do you not want me anymore?” she blurted out.

  He held her gaze for a long moment that made her stomach knot. He took her hand and slid his fingers sensually through hers. “Not want you? What makes you say that?”

  In for a penny. In for a pound. “Because we haven’t been together in days. And you were ready to leave me at my apartment tonight.”

  He paused again. “I want you willing. I want you wanting me. Or not at all.”

  Whoa. Bella’s mind reeled with his words. He wasn’t going to require her to be with him? What about their deal? What about her debt to him?

  She stared into his dark eyes and felt as if her inner
core was shifting. This was her chance to turn away and brush her hands of him. She could go back to her apartment and lick her wounds as long as she wanted. She could buy Ben & Jerry’s ice cream and eat it every night. By herself.

  Or, she could be with the most exciting man she’d ever met in her life. Even though she didn’t love him. Suddenly she felt as if she were a runaway train on a track she had to take. At some point, there would be a terrible crash, but for some reason she couldn’t miss being with him.

  “Are you saying that you would continue to support my aunt’s business even if you and I never see each other again?”

  “Yes.”

  Her heart stopped. She took a deep breath. “Take me home,” she said. “With you.”

  Michael did take her, in more ways than one. He didn’t give her a chance to change her mind. As soon as they arrived at his house, he led her upstairs to the big bed where she’d been absent too long and made love to her. He relished the scent of her body and devoured every inch of her. He drowned himself in the softness of her skin and the passion that roared beneath.

  He didn’t want to think about how much he’d missed her, how much he’d wanted her. How had she become such an addiction? Her spirit, her emotions got under his skin. He still felt jealous of Stephen. It was an insane emotion, but he wanted to wipe away every memory of her former fiancé. He wanted her to think only of him. He wanted her to want only him.

  Where had these feelings come from? He didn’t want to feel this need for her, this deeper-than-his-bones connection with her.

  The next morning, he loathed leaving her. The realization bothered him, but he brushed it aside and did his usual workout. After he finished, he noticed a message on his BlackBerry. He listened to it, feeling amused and irritated. Rafe was flying his wife and son, their brother Damien and his wife, to Atlanta this afternoon. Nothing like short notice.

  Michael returned to his bedroom to find Bella sleeping in his bed. A fierce possessiveness filled him, but he fought it. This would pass, he told himself. No one had ever belonged to him fully. Bella wouldn’t either.

  Moving to the side of the bed, he slid his fingers over her tousled dark hair. She made a soft sound and curled her head against his hand. His gut clenched at her unconscious movement.

  He swallowed over a strange lump in his throat and stroked her cheek. Her eyes fluttered open, her violet eyes immediately staring at him. She sighed softly. “Hi,” she said. “Have you already done your workout, taken over a half dozen companies and started a new country this morning?”

  He gave a wry chuckle and tousled her hair. “No. I worked out. I just thought I should give you fair warning. Both my brothers and their families are descending on me this afternoon.”

  She searched his face. “You want me to leave?”

  He hadn’t considered any other possibility. “They’ll ask you a million questions.”

  “You didn’t answer my question,” she said.

  “I want you to do what you want to do,” he said.

  She sat up, bringing the covers with her. “Well, that doesn’t help me any. I mean it would be nice to know if you want to keep me hidden or you don’t want them to know about me.”

  “I’m okay with them knowing about you,” he said, watching her carefully. “You’re the one who wanted to keep this secret.”

  She bit her lip and met his gaze. “Well, I have to admit this sounds even better than having dinner at Cie la Sea and seeing a Hawks game in a box seat.”

  Surprise and amusement rippled through him. “Oh, really? How’s that?”

  “Getting to meet your brothers,” she said. “And they’re both obscenely successful, right?”

  He nodded. “I guess you might say so.”

  “And their wives?”

  “Yes. What’s your point?”

  “I love it that they pushed themselves on you this way.” She clapped her hands. “I can’t imagine you allowing yourself to be pushed by anyone.”

  “You imagine correctly. I wouldn’t let anyone but my brothers get away with this. But we missed too many years together to say no.”

  She took his hand and held it in hers, her gaze holding his with an emotion that made him feel less empty, less hollow. Damn if he knew why. “I’m in.”

  Michael sent his limo to pick up his family from the airport. Bella paced the den, checked the mirror a few times to make sure she looked okay. She smoothed her hands over her slacks for the third time and paced again.

  “Are you sure you want to meet them?” Michael asked as he glanced up from his laptop.

  “Sure, I’m sure,” she said, fighting her nerves. “I’m just not sure what to expect or what they’ll think of me.”

  “They’ll let me know,” Michael said and turned back to his laptop.

  “That’s great,” she said. “So they’ll talk about me behind my back.”

  “Relax. They’ll like you,” he said.

  “How can you be sure?”

  “Because your presence will give them something to annoy me about.”

  She put her hands on her hips. “Why is that?”

  “I haven’t introduced a lot of women to them,” he said, still looking at his screen.

  “Why not?”

  He shrugged. “I don’t know. Just haven’t felt like it.”

  The knowledge gave her a start and she crossed her arms over her chest. “I just hope they’re not expecting a super wealthy, sophisticated type—”

  “They’re not expecting anything because I haven’t told them about you.”

  She felt a stinging pinch to her ego and rolled her eyes at herself. Unable to stand her anxiety any longer, she gave a sigh and turned to leave the room.

  “Where are you going?” he called after her.

  “To bake a cake,” she said.

  “Why? That’s why I have staff,” he said.

  “It will give me something to do and make the house smell welcoming,” she muttered and continued into the kitchen where the cook was preparing lasagna. “Would I be in your way if I baked a cake?” she asked Gary.

  He looked at her in surprise. “Not at all, but I can do it for you.”

  “I know you can and you could probably do a better job, but I’d like to do it if you don’t mind.”

  Gary’s face softened. “Of course. Let me know if I can help you. Do you need a cookbook?”

  “No. I’ve got this one memorized,” she said and mixed together one of her favorite cakes from childhood.

  Minutes after she put the cake in the oven, the doorbell rang. Her stomach twisted. She heard a chorus of voices, male and female, along with that of a child. She considered hiding in the kitchen, but forced herself into the hallway.

  At first glance, she almost couldn’t believe how similar the brothers looked. All were tall with dark complexions. One of the brothers had a scar on his cheek, his bone structure somewhat angular. If she hadn’t seen him smile, she would have thought he looked like a handsome version of Satan. That one must be Damien.

  The other brother held a boy in his arms and a glowing woman stood beside him. From what Michael had told her, she concluded this was Rafe, the playboy brother who’d been tamed by his wife.

  Suddenly, she felt Damien’s gaze on her. Curiosity glinted in his eyes. “Who do we have here?” he asked Michael.

  Michael met her gaze and smiled. “This is Bella St. Clair. Bella, this is my brother Damien and his wife Emma. Rafe, his wife Nicole and his son—”

  “Joel,” she said, smiling at the adorable boy who looked like a miniature of his father with the exception of his blue eyes.

  Rafe lifted his eyebrows. “She has an advantage. She knows more about us than we know about her.”

  “From what I’ve heard about the Medici brothers, I need every advantage I can find,” she said. “Nice to meet you all.”

  “Nice to meet you, too,” Nicole said, stepping forward. “You’re a brave woman facing all of them at once.” She pause
d and sniffed the air. “What is that delicious smell?”

  “Michael’s cook is preparing lasagna,” Bella said.

  Nicole shook her head. “No. This is a chocolate smell.”

  Bella smiled. “Oh, I baked a chocolate cake. It’s a favorite recipe from childhood. Chocolate applesauce cake.”

  “You’ve just gotten a best friend forever,” Rafe said. “My wife is having chocolate cravings that grow more intense each day. I’m having a hard time keeping up.”

  Nicole swatted at him. “He’s joking. This isn’t related to my pregnancy. I like chocolate anyway.”

  “So do I,” Emma said and extended her hand. “It’s nice to meet you. How did you and Michael meet?”

  “At one of his restaurants,” she said. “I worked there, but I didn’t know he was the owner,” she quickly added. “Snowy night, lots of conversation, some surprising things in common.”

  “Sounds romantic,” Emma said.

  “It was definitely interesting. I haven’t met anyone like him,” she said, catching him watching her from the small space that separated them.

  “I’m so glad Michael has a…um—” Nicole stopped and laughed. “A friend. He’s such a workaholic. Of course, Damien was the same. So was Rafe. He just projected another image, so everyone would think he was a playboy.”

  “Why are you talking about me as if I’m not here?” Rafe asked.

  Gary appeared in the foyer. “I can serve dinner anytime you like.”

  “Now sounds good,” Damien said.

  “Big brother has spoken,” Michael said good-naturedly. “Five or ten minutes okay?” he asked Gary.

  “No problem,” Gary said. “The table is waiting.”

  “I need to go to the bathroom,” Joel said.

  “I can take him,” Nicole said.

  “I’ve got it,” Rafe said. “Just point me in the direction of the closest bathroom.”

  “Down the hall to the left,” Bella said.

  Nicole watched after Rafe as he led his son down the hallway. “It’s hard to believe how quickly he has adapted to being a great father.”

 

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