The Prince's Convenient Proposal

by Barbara Hannay

  This day wasn’t just a happy ending, it was the very happiest of new beginnings.

  * * * * *

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  SLOW DANCE WITH THE BEST MAN

  by Sophie Pembroke.

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  Therese Beharrie’s fabulous debut book

  THE TYCOON’S RELUCTANT CINDERELLA!

  Keep reading for an excerpt from

  THE TYCOON’S RELUCTANT CINDERELLA

  by Therese Beharrie

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  The Tycoon's Reluctant Cinderella

  by Therese Beharrie

  CHAPTER ONE

  ‘PLEASE HOLD THE ELEVATOR!’

  Callie McKenzie almost shouted the words as she ran to the closing doors. She was horribly late, despite her rushed efforts to get dressed after her shift at the hotel had ended. She wouldn’t be making a very good impression on the big boss if she arrived after he did, so she was taking a chance on the elevator, ignoring her usual reservations about the small box.

  Relief shot through her when she saw a hand hold the elevator doors and she hurried in, almost colliding with the person who had helped her. She had meant to say thank you immediately, but as she looked at him her mouth dried, taking her words away.

  Callie thought he might be the most beautiful man she had ever seen. Dark hair sat tousled on his head, as though it had travelled through whirlwinds to get there, and set off the sea-blue-green of his eyes. He was a full head taller than her, so that she had to look up to appreciate the striking features of his face. Each angle was shaped perfectly—as though it had been sculpted, she thought, with the intention of causing every woman who looked at it to be caught in involuntary—or voluntary—attraction.

  Her eyes fell to his lips as they curved into a smile and she felt her heart flutter. It was the kind of smile that transformed his entire face, giving it a sexy, casual expression that stood out against the sophistication of his perfectly tailored suit. It took her a while to realise that she was amusing him by staring, and she forced herself to snap out of it.

  ‘Thank you,’ she said, aware of the husky undertone her evaluation of him had brought to her voice.

  His smile broadened. ‘No problem. Which floor would you like?’

  Callie almost slapped her hand against her forehead at the deep baritone of his voice. Was there anything about the man that wasn’t sexy?

  She cleared her throat. ‘Ground floor, please.’

  ‘Then it’s already been selected,’ he said, and pressed the button to close the elevator doors. ‘So you’re also going to the event downstairs, then?’

  She frowned. ‘Yes. How did you know?’

  ‘Well, I’d like to think that this hotel doesn’t require its guests to dress up in such formal wear to have supper.’

  He gestured to her clothing, and Callie once again resisted the urge to slap herself on the head. She was wearing one of her mother’s formal gowns—one of the few Callie didn’t think was absolutely ridiculous—and nodded.

  ‘Of course. Sorry, it’s been a long day.’ Callie wished she believed that was the reason for her lame responses, but she knew better. She wasn’t sure why, but he threw her off balance.

  ‘I can relate. This isn’t the most ideal way to spend the evening.’

  Callie was about to agree when the elevator came to an abrupt stop. The lights went out barely a second later and Callie lost her balance, knocking her head into the back wall. The world spun for a bit, and then she felt strong arms hold her and lower her to the ground.

  ‘Are you okay?’ he asked, and Callie had to take a moment to catch her breath before she answered.

  She wasn’t sure if she was dizzy because she was in his arms or because of the blow to her head. Or, she thought as the situation finally caught up to her, if it was her very real fear of being trapped in enclosed spaces that had affected her breathing.

  ‘I’m fine.’ Her breath hitched, but she forced it out slowly. ‘I’m sure it’s just a bump on the head.’ Inhale, exhale, she reminded herself.

  ‘Are you sure? You’re breathing quite heavily.’

  Her eyes had now acclimatised to the darkness, and she could see the concern etched on his face. ‘I’m a little...claustrophobic.’

  ‘Ah.’ He nodded his head and stood. ‘The electricity must have gone off, but I’m sure it won’t take long before someone realises we’re here.’

  He removed his phone from his pocket and tapped against the screen. A light shone dimly between them but Callie could only see his face, disproportionately large in the poor light. She felt a strange mixture of disappointment and satisfaction that she couldn’t make out his features as clearly as she had before, but she did manage to make out the scowl on his face.

  ‘I don’t have any reception, so I can’t call anyone to help.’

  ‘You could press that button over there,’ she said helpfully, pointing to the red emergency button on the control panel.

  Her breathing was coming a little easier—as long as she didn’t think about the fact that she was trapped. She wanted to stand up, but didn’t trust herself to be steady. And the last thing she wanted was to fall into the arms of her companion for a second time within a few minutes.

  ‘Of course I can.’

  He pressed the emergency button and quickly conversed with the static voice that came through the intercom. He’d been right. There had been a power outage in the entire grid, and the hotel’s generator had for some reason gone off as well. They were assured that it was being sorted out, but that it might take up to thirty minutes before they would be rescued.

  He sighed and sank down next to her, and Callie squeezed her eyes shut. She thought it might make his proximity—and her fear—less overwhelming. Instead, the smell of him filled her senses—a musky male scent that almost made her sigh in satisfaction. She swore she could hear her heart throbbing in her chest, but she told herself it was just because of the confines of the elevator. She opened her eyes and looked at him, and before she could become mesmerised by his looks—even in the dim light he was handsome—forced herself to speak.

  ‘I wonder what’s going on downstairs. There must be mass panic.’ She couldn’t quite keep th
e scorn from colouring her voice.

  ‘I take it that you’re not a fan of tonight’s celebrations,’ he said wryly.

  ‘I wouldn’t say that. I’m just...’ she searched for the word ‘...sceptical.’

  ‘About the event, or the reason for it?’

  The innocent question brought a flurry of emotions that she wasn’t ready to face. Her brother, Connor, had warned her that the hotel they both worked at hadn’t been doing well for years now. Despite his efforts as regional manager, Connor was still struggling to bring the Elegance Hotel back from the mess the last manager had created. The arrival today of the CEO—their boss—held a mass of implications that she didn’t want to think about.

  So, instead of answering his question, she asked, ‘Are you here to meet the CEO?’

  ‘Not really, no.’

  ‘A very cryptic answer.’

  She could sense his smile.

  ‘I like the idea of being a little mysterious.’

  She laughed. ‘You realise I don’t know who you are, right? Everything about you is mysterious to me.’

  As she said the words she turned towards him and found herself face to face with him. Her heart pounded, her breath slowed, and for the briefest moment she wanted to lean forward and kiss him.

  The thought was as effective as ice down her back, and she shifted away, blaming claustrophobia for her physical reaction to a man she barely knew.

  She shook her head, and was brought back to the reality of the situation. Soon she didn’t have to pretend to blame her shortness of breath on her fear. She felt a hand grip her own and looked at him. She could see the concern in his eyes, and gratitude filled her when she realised that reassurance, not attraction, was the reason for his gesture.

  ‘Your date must be worried about you,’ he said, and nodded, encouraging her to concentrate on his words.

  ‘He might be,’ she agreed, ‘if I had brought one.’

  He laughed, and the sound was as manly as the rest of him. What was it about the man that enthralled all her senses?

  ‘And yours?’ Callie asked, and wondered at herself. This wasn’t like her. She was flirting with him. And even though she knew that she shouldn’t, she wanted to know the answer.

  Their eyes locked, and once again something sizzled between them.

  ‘I don’t have a date here.’

  ‘Your girlfriend couldn’t make it tonight?’

  She turned away from him as she asked the question, and leaned her head back against the elevator wall. She didn’t want to succumb to the magnetism that surrounded him, but she had already failed miserably. She shouldn’t be asking him about his personal life. But every time she looked at him her heart kicked in her chest and she wanted to know more. If she looked away, the walls began to close in on her.

  So she chose the lesser of the two evils and turned back to him. His eyes were patient, steady, and she gave in to the temptation. ‘Couldn’t she?’

  ‘There’s no girlfriend.’

  Was she imagining the slight tension in his voice?

  ‘And you don’t have a boyfriend, I assume?’

  ‘You assume correctly—although I probably shouldn’t be telling you that.’

  ‘Why not?’

  ‘Well, you’re a strange man and we’re stuck in an elevator together. What’s going to deter you from putting the moves on me now that you know I don’t have a boyfriend?’

  Callie said the words before she could think about what they might provoke. But he just said, ‘You don’t have to worry about that. I don’t “put the moves” on anyone.’

  ‘So women just drop at your feet, then?’ She couldn’t take her eyes off him as she dug deeper.

  ‘Sometimes.’

  He smiled, but even in the dim light she could see something in his eyes that she couldn’t decipher.

  ‘Ah, modesty. Charming.’ She said it in jest, but her heart sank. This man—this very attractive man who made her heart beat faster just by looking at her—wasn’t interested in one woman. Women fell at his feet—and she wouldn’t be one of them.

  He laughed, and then sobered. ‘Mostly I stay away from them.’

  Callie felt herself soften just a little at the heartbreak she could hear ever so slightly in his voice. And just like that her judgement of him faded away. He didn’t want women, or even just one woman—he wanted to be alone. Callie couldn’t figure out which fact bothered her the most.

  ‘I’m sorry. She must have been a real piece of work.’

  He didn’t answer her, but his face told her everything that she needed to know. She placed a hand over his and squeezed it, hoping to provide him with some comfort. But when he laid his hand over hers in return, comfort was the last thing on her mind. His hand brought heat to hers, and lit her heart so that it beat to a rhythm she couldn’t fathom. He leaned his head towards hers, and suddenly heat spread through her bloodstream.

  This couldn’t be right, she thought desperately as she pulled her hand away. They barely knew each other. She wouldn’t let herself fall into a web of attraction with a man who was as charming as a fairy-tale prince.

  Before she could worry about it the elevator lurched and the lights came back on. He stood and offered a hand to her, a slight smile on his gorgeous face. Did he know the effect he had on her? Or was he simply aware that he’d helped distract her from one of her worst fears?

  As Callie took his hand she had to admit that he had kept her thoughts off being stuck in an elevator. And she blamed that—and his good looks—on her uncharacteristic reaction.

  ‘Thank you,’ she said as the elevator doors opened. ‘I hope you enjoy the rest of your evening.’

  The breath of relief that was released from her lungs as she walked away was because she was out of the enclosed space, Callie assured herself, and ignored the voice in her head that scoffed at the lie.

  * * *

  Blake Owen stopped at the doors of the banquet hall and resisted the urge to walk away. He had never been a fan of opulence, but rarely did he have a choice in the matter. Which was fine, he supposed. In his business, events of an extravagant nature were integral to success, and the welcome for him tonight was an excellent example of that. He would be introduced to the Elegance Hotel in Cape Town in a style that would keep the hotel’s name at the forefront of the media’s attention while he sorted out the troublesome operation.

  So he accepted his lot and walked into the room, snagging a flute of champagne from the nearest waiter’s tray before taking the whole scene in.

  Glamour spread from the roof to the floor and fairy lights and sparkling chandeliers twinkled like stars against the midnight-blue draping. Black-and-white-clad waiters wove through the crowd while men and women in tuxedos and evening gowns air-kissed and wafted around on clouds of self-importance.

  Blake almost rolled his eyes—until he remembered the guests were there in his honour. The thought made him empty the entire champagne glass and exchange it for a full one from the next waiter. He noted that the power outage hadn’t seemed to dampen the evening’s festivities. But when he looked at the scene with the eye of a manager he could see some slightly frazzled members of staff weaving through the crowd doing damage control.

  He managed to get the attention of one of them, and took the frightened young man to a less populated corner of the hall.

  ‘What happened when the electricity went out?’

  As Blake spoke the man’s eyes widened and Blake thought that ‘boy’ might be a more appropriate description.

  ‘It was only a few moments, sir. As you can see, everything is running smoothly again. Enjoy your evening.’

  The boy made to move away, but at Blake’s look he paused.

  ‘Was there anything else, sir?’

  ‘Yes, actually. I was
wondering if you brush off the concerns of all your guests, or if you reserve that for just a handful of people.’

  If the boy had looked nervous before, he was terrified now. ‘No...no, sir. I’m sorry you feel that I did. We’re just a bit busy, and I have to make sure that everything is okay before Mr Owen gets here.’

  ‘That would be me.’

  The words were said in a low voice, softly, but for their effect they might have been earth-shatteringly loud.

  ‘Mr... Mr Owen?’ the boy stammered. ‘Sir, I am so sorry—’

  ‘It’s fine,’ Blake said when he saw the boy might have a heart attack from the shock. ‘You can answer my original question.’ At his blank look, Blake elaborated. ‘The power outage...?’

  ‘Oh, yes. Well, it wasn’t such a train smash here. The candles gave sufficient light that there wasn’t much panic, and Connor—Mr McKenzie, I mean—managed to calm whatever concerns there were.’

  Blake was surprised the boy had been able to string enough words together to give him such a thorough explanation.

  ‘And that was it?’

  ‘Yes, sir. The generator was back on in under thirty minutes, so it wasn’t too long. Although I did hear there were people trapped in the elevator.’

  Blake thought it best not to tell the boy he had been one of those who had been trapped. He wasn’t sure if he would be able to handle another shock.

  ‘When was the last time the generator was checked?’

  ‘I...I don’t know, sir.’

  Blake nodded and left it at that, making a mental note to check that out when he officially started on Monday. The list of what he would have to do at the hotel seemed to grow the more time he spent there, and he wasn’t having it. Not any more. Somehow the Elegance in Cape Town had flown under his radar for the past few years, while he had focused on his other hotels in South Africa.

  And while he focused on rebuilding his self-respect after letting himself be fooled into a relationship that should never have been.

  When he had eventually started reviewing the financials he’d realised that although Connor McKenzie had pulled the hotel out of the mess that Landon Meyer, the previous regional manager, had made, it wasn’t enough. The hotel hadn’t made a profit for three years, and he couldn’t let that continue.