Melissa Mcclone - Memo - The Billionaire's Proposal

Chaney pulled apart the armor plates to find the buckles. “All I want to do is sleep.”

“That bed does look…inviting. They even left chocolate on the pillows.” He stared down at her. “Two chocolates.”

Uh-oh. She undid a buckle. “The staff may have assumed you’d have company.”

“I do. Are you interested?”

Her fingers fumbled. “What?”

His eyes danced with laughter. “In a chocolate.”

“I’m not company. I work for your company.” Unfastening another buckle, her fingertips brushed the chain mail underneath. “How many layers are you wearing?”

“A few, but once the chain mail is off, I can handle the rest. Unless you’d rather help with that, too.”

Her fingers trembled. No way would she respond to him. Anything she said would come out wrong and might even sound as if she were interested in helping with…more. She pressed her lips together.

Chaney focused on the armor, not the man underneath it. She caught glimpses of chain mail, a quilted shirt, dark hair. Intriguing images. Tempting impressions. Ones she ignored. She unbuckled the pieces around his chest and shoulders and placed each in a special container sitting on the floor of his room.

She knelt at his feet to remove the lower half of the armor. Reaching around his thigh, she found her hands between his legs and her head much too close to his, um, codpiece.

“I appreciate this, Chaney,” he said as if she were tying his shoes, not practically fondling him as she tried to reach a buckle. “I know you’re tired.”

She kept her eyes focused on the buckle, not allowing herself to look anywhere else. Or touch any part of him. “Almost done.”

Please, oh, please let me be almost done.

She hurriedly undid the buckle. Unfortunately, three more needed her attention and kept her in the uncomfortable, embarrassing position.

“All done,” she said finally, laying the last piece of leg armor into its spot in the container.

“Thank you.”

Chaney turned. The words “you’re welcome” died on her parted lips.

Drake stood wearing chain mail that molded his muscular shoulders, arms and chest. The metal shirt fell to his hips. Talk about hot.

She swallowed.

He was every woman’s fantasy and her worst nightmare. But that didn’t stop her knees from going weak and her blood from boiling.

“The chain mail attaches in the back,” he said.

Chaney forced herself into action. She fumbled with the first hook. Her fingers wouldn’t do what she wanted them to do.

She blew out a frustrated breath.

Darn the man.

His soft-looking hair tempted her to touch it, to see if the strands would curl around her finger.

“Having trouble?” Drake asked.

He had no idea. “I’m getting there.”

Or would. As soon as she reminded her traitorous body and out-of-control hormones she wasn’t interested in Drake Llewelyn. He couldn’t give her what she wanted: a forever kind of love. Not to mention she was taking a break from dating, from men.

An almost two-year break, a voice—maybe her heart—mocked.

Shut up.

“Excuse me?” he asked.

Oh, no. She hadn’t meant to say that out loud. “Sorry, I was just trying to quiet the voices in my head.”

“What were they saying?”

“That it was past my bedtime, but don’t worry. I won’t leave until the job is finished.”

“I knew I could count on you.”

Chaney didn’t understand his confidence in her when she wasn’t sure she could count on herself in this situation.

Finally the snap came undone. Slowly, much too slowly for her liking, she opened each of the remaining ones. “They’re all unsnapped.”

“Can you help me out of it?” Drake asked.

“Sure.” Her voice sounded stronger than she felt.

“Open the back.”

As she did as he asked, Chaney realized how much the chain mail weighed. He shrugged out of the shirt so it rested on his upper arms.

“Now come around in front of me,” he said. “Be careful, it’s heavy.”

Chaney held on to the shirt as he pulled one arm out and then another, never once leaving her to hold the entire weight of the chain mail.

He placed it in the container. His damp, quilted shirt clung to him. He pulled the tails out from the waistband of his pants. “Much better and cooler.”

Maybe for him.

“I should go.”

“Stay.” One soft word in that sexy, accented voice.

She sucked in a breath. “But we’re done.”

His eyes lit again with that wicked, wicked laughter. “Darling, we’re just getting started.”

He walked—no, strutted—toward her, the set of his jaw full of purpose.

Drawn to his strength and heat, Chaney leaned toward him. She tilted her chin.

His gaze smoldered. His lips parted.

Chaney stood transfixed.

Drake stopped in front of her.

She could barely breathe, let alone think. She stared up at him, confused, afraid, attracted. He lowered his mouth to hers.

He was going to kiss her.

The realization ricocheted through her brain. She wanted him to kiss her. Badly. Except…

She ducked her head and stepped back so the only thing his lips touched was air.

“I should so not be surprised by this.” Her voice sounded shrill. She didn’t care.

His head drew back. “Excuse me?”

“I probably shouldn’t ask, given your reputation, but why would you choose to make a move on me now, when you know I’m so tired?”

“I thought you wanted me to kiss you.”

She placed her hands on her hips. “Why would you think that?”

“The way you leaned toward me. The tilt of your head. The look in your eyes that said kiss me.”

Oh, boy. Shame flooded her. She’d done all those things and probably more. “I’m sorry if I misled you.”

“Don’t be sorry.” His smile could have charmed a starving mouse out of its last nibble of cheddar. “We can try again. Let me show you what you missed out on five years ago.”

Sex. That was all he’d ever wanted from her.

Anger surged. Disappointment, too. She glanced to the bed and back at him. “In case you haven’t figured it out, I’m not about to be another notch on your bedpost or wherever else you keep track of your conquests.”

“If that’s all I felt about you, Chaney, I wouldn’t be here.”

Even though she was upset at him, his words piqued her curiosity. “What are you talking about?”

“I decided to host this episode so I could see you again.”

The air in his room sizzled. Drake saw a mix of disbelief and hope in Chaney’s eyes. He wanted hope to win. That way he would win, too.

“You thought I was married and you still wanted to see me?” she asked.

“See you, yes. Nothing else.”

“And if I hadn’t agreed to fill in for Gemma?”

“But you did and you’re here. Not to mention unmarried.” He moved closer to her. “We’ve been given a second chance, Chaney. Let’s make the most of this opportunity.”

She put her hands on his chest to stop him. “Why don’t you park yourself at the round table and cool down.”

Her anger confused him. He hadn’t expected that reaction.

She walked away from him. “You can’t actually expect me to believe you.”

“What I said is true.”

Chaney gave him a look. “I only agreed to fill in for Gemma a few days ago. I realize you have enough money to have a custom suit of armor built for you at the last minute, but unless you’ve found a miracle formula to grow that much facial hair overnight, I’d say you spent well over a week on your beard. Probably longer than that.”

Damn. Most women would have pretended not to see through what he’d said and play along, but not Chaney. Drake didn’t know whether to be annoyed or amused by the turn of events. “You may have misunderstood my intentions.”