Melissa Mcclone - His Proposal, Their Forever

Not gonna happen. “Once I have the permits, I’ll be free to work on my property.”

“Not exactly, Mr. McMillian.” Her gaze remained on his, unwavering. More sure of herself with every passing minute, but maybe—if he wasn’t stretching it—she was sympathetic, too. “Broughton Inn is on the Federal Register of Historic Places.”

“I know. I also know private owners are not bound by any restrictions if they want to improve the property.”

“Not bound by restrictions only if federal money—grants—haven’t been attached to their property.” The confidence in her words matched the determined set of her chin.

The knot-entangled donut in his stomach turned to stone. He had spoken to the former inn owner, taken notes, confirmed each detail about what being on the historical register meant for improvements and teardowns. The ticking-clock time frame of Floyd Jeffries wanting to close the deal was looking suspect. “We were assured—”

“Floyd lied. You got taken, Mr. McMillian.” Bailey pulled out files from her bag and handed one to Justin. “If you don’t believe me, check these papers. They’ll prove federal and state monies are attached to the Broughton Inn. Some are old, before Floyd’s time as owner.”

Justin noticed his crew creeping closer to the porch. The men had cut the distance in half twice, no doubt curious. He didn’t blame them. This was their livelihood, too. He wouldn’t let them down or allow Bailey Cole to screw up this project any more than she had.

He opened the folder, eager to prove her wrong. Except...

The first page listed the inn’s grant awards. Not one, several. Federal and state funding had been provided to the inn.

His neck stiffened, the cords of muscles tightening and coiling like electrical wire. He turned the pages, one after another. Each was a death knell to his plans for the inn, smothering his hope for success, throwing the resort company’s future ownership in doubt.

It now made sense why Floyd gave them only forty-eight hours to make a decision about purchasing the inn. The man had been trying to pull a fast one. Not trying, succeeding. Damn.

Talk about a crook. Paige, everyone at McMillian Resorts, had been duped. If Justin couldn’t fix this, his parents would sell the company and ride off into retirement without a second thought to their three children who had spent their lives living and working at the family’s hotels.

Not about to give up, Justin straightened, handed back the papers. “We were not provided this information. I would appreciate copies at your earliest convenience.”

“I’ll get those to you as soon as I can,” Bailey said.

Grady took the file out of his sister’s hands. “I’ll have copies made. You need to get off your feet.”

“I will.” She ground out the words as if clenching her back teeth. “I have to return the artwork first.”

“So, what’s the approval process so we can begin our project?” Justin asked Grady.

The officer looked at his sister. “That’s Bailey’s expertise.”

Great. She was the last person who would offer help, but too much was at stake for Justin not to ask. “Care to enlighten me on the steps?”

“Gladly.” She leaned against the railing, but her casual position didn’t match the sharp, predatory gleam in her eyes. “First the intended project plans must be presented to the Advisory Council on Historic Preservation.”

Not insurmountable. Justin released a quick breath. “That doesn’t sound so bad.”

“No, but that’s only the federal portion of the process.” Bailey flexed her knee with the injured foot, then straightened her leg. “After the feds check off on the plans, you need input from the State Historic Preservation Office.”

Each approval would take time. Not good. He scratched his chin. Too bad he couldn’t itch away the problems with the inn. Or her. Bailey explaining the process without prodding worried him. She might have a hidden agenda. Or maybe she liked knowing more than he did. “Is that all?”

“After state approval, you’ll need to present the plans to the Haley’s Bay Historical Committee in order to receive your city permit.”

“Seems straightforward.” Except the timing would impact the schedule, possibly change their plans completely. His parents wanted the inn to open before the busy summer season next year. He needed to talk to Paige ASAP and figure out not only damage control but also a plan B.

“My sister is head of the committee,” Grady added. That wasn’t the cherry on top that the officer’s voice seemed to imply, but a grenade with the pin pulled.

Justin’s hands curled into fists. He wasn’t into violence, but he wanted to punch Floyd Jeffries. The man had told Justin tearing down the inn would be as easy as crushing a sand castle. Going through three groups could take days, weeks, maybe even months. Who knew if they’d allow the old inn to be torn down so a new one could be built? He had a feeling Miss Bailey Cole would be readying her troops for a battle.

Bailey’s I-know-something-you-don’t smile suggested she could read Justin’s mind. “You realize if you do anything without getting approval—”

“I understand what’s at stake, Ms. Cole.” His words sounded harsh, but he’d lost patience. He couldn’t keep his cool any longer. This so-called diamond in the rough, aka the Broughton Inn, was nothing more than a piece of fool’s gold. He and his sisters looked like amateurs for not thinking the inn’s fire-sale price came with strings of steel.

Ones that might handcuff them for months, maybe years, in a web of approval procedures. Ones that might destroy their lifelong dream of running McMillian Resorts.

He gave a nod to Wyatt and the crew. “Pack it up, boys.”

For now.

Bailey Cole might be smiling, but he would show her who was in charge. His parents, too. This approval process delay wouldn’t change the inevitable. The old inn was coming down. A luxury five-star boutique hotel would be built on this spot.

No one, including Bailey Cole, was going to stop him.

McMillian Resorts would succeed. No matter what Justin had to do to make that happen, including charming the silly slippers off the mess of a woman standing in his way.

Chapter Two Contents Cover Introduction What had she done? And what was she going to do now? Justin McMillian had kissed her again, unexpectedly and thoroughly, as if she were his to command with a touch of his lips. Worse, she had been willing, eager, hungry. She’d wanted to gobble him up. A part of her still did. Stupid. Stupid. Stupid. For all Bailey knew, her reaction was exactly the response he wanted. Nothing good would come from spending time with Justin. Conflict of interest. Uh, yeah. Kissing was not exactly professional behavior. The inn’s staff and their families were counting on her to win. She needed to keep her distance from him. He could be playing her. Why wouldn’t he? A charming hotelier and construction hottie who oozed sex appeal must be good at that kind of game. Her gaze narrowed on Justin heading down the stairs. He looked like a fashion model, handsome in his worn jeans, Henley shirt and flannel jacket. His boots were durable enough to withstand the weeds and rocks below. Handsome, check. Capable, check. Under control, check. The opposite of her. * * * The Coles Of Haley’s Bay : For this family, love is a shore thing… Title Page His Proposal, Their Forever Melissa McClone www.millsandboon.co.uk About the Author MELISSA McCLONE has published over thirty novels. She has also been nominated for a Romance Writers of America RI TA® Award. She lives in the Pacific Northwest with her husband, three school-age children, two spoiled Norwegian elkhounds and cats who think they rule the house. They do! Visit her at www.melissamcclone.com . Dedication To Margie Lawson and the Wonderblue Wordsmiths: Allie Burton, Linda Dindzans, Amy Mckenna Rae, Megan Menard, Laura Navarre and Sarah Tipton Special thanks to Amy Mckenna Rae, Lisa Hayden, Terri Reed and Kimberly Field Chapter One Chapter Two Chapter Three Chapter Four Chapter Five Chapter Six Chapter Seven Chapter Eight Chapter Nine Chapter Ten Chapter Eleven Chapter Twelve Chapter Thirteen Extract Copyright