Sun Chara - Manhattan Millionaire’s Cinderella

Get a grip, man . Oh yeah. Freud would get a big chuckle outta that.

Cade cleared his throat. “A marr—” He coughed, and forced the words out. “A marriage proposal.” A noose around his neck.

“What?” She gaped at him as though he’d gone bonkers, then her stiff discipline kicked in. “A market proposal, sir?”

“Nice try.” Somehow, he’d outmaneuver his uncle’s ploy to get him hitched, but first, he had to get his hands on the dough.

Matrimony.” He scowled. “It’d be a promotion. Higher salary … perks … company car … me.”

She laughed, but there was a nervous tingle in it. “I don’t qualify, sir.”

“Indeed, you do.” He’d checked her out and she came out squeaky clean. Lived with her cat, bicycled in Central Park on weekends, no boyfriend, a mother in Los Angeles. Her father, a former employee of the company before Cade’s takeover, unaccounted for. He curled his lip in distaste. Divorce, no doubt.

“Marry…you?!”

Heck, did she have to sound so shocked? Plenty of sophisticates would snatch at his proposal. He palmed his nape. But this business model called for specific criteria—and he was looking at her. “Yeah.”

“Why?”

“Because—”

“I don’t even like you.”

That cut through his thick hide and pricked his pride. He shrugged.

“You don’t have to.”

She giggled, and the sound booted him with a delicious zap.

“Strictly a business transaction.” He pointed to himself then to her.

“Mutually beneficial.”

“No, thank you.”

Aww, man, there she went barricading herself behind her prim and proper façade. He had to knock her defenses down and clinch the deal.

“Would a percentage of three million change your mind?”

“Very funny.” She shifted in her chair and resumed typing.

“Okay.” He slid off the desk. “If you change your mind—”

The phone rang.

Nina picked up the receiver and sized him up over the rim of her glasses. Sexual energy vibrated from him, a catalyst to her own. Good reason to keep her distance. “I’ll see if Mr. Sloan’s avail—”

He grabbed the phone from her so quickly, a whoosh of hot air singed the back of her hand.

“Sloan,” he barked, making the room shrink. “No way in hell.” He paced the floor, the muscles in his back contracting. A scowl creased his otherwise handsome features. It was a face that had women lining up and gossip hounds salivating after him.

A shiver shimmied up her spine.

Cade Sloan gobbled girls like her for appetizers, spat them out and moved onto the entrée. Breath whipped from her lips, and she twitched her nose. No way would she be another notch on this stud’s belt.

Nina had her life mapped out. And it did not include her sexy boss who had just propositioned her. She fiddled with her pearl earring, and her gaze strayed back to him.

“Not my type,” she murmured beneath her breath.

He heard and cocked a brow, his eyes shuttering.

Heat—his searing hot attraction – grabbed hold of her. Perspiration dampened her skin and a droplet meandered between her breasts. She pulled a tissue from the Kleenex box and dabbed her upper lip.

He was much too dangerous.

Lethal…to her.

What if he was behind her father’s disappearance? Her father was a former employee.

“I need more time.” Already having dismissed her, he glanced over her head at the New York skyline visible through the wide expanse of glass of one wall. “Three days.” Gold flecks in his eyes glittered, then he crashed the phone down, tension riddling his broad shoulders as he let out a deep breath of frustration. He strode to the door, paused, and tossed over his shoulder. “Think it over, Ms. McLowsky.”

“Why?”

“Because … er … you’ve got the stellar qualifications stipulated for the position.”

She shook her head, and a curl dared play fickle at her temple. She batted it away with the back of her hand, and resisted the temptation he dangled before her. “I’m flattered, but—”

“No flattery intended.” He laughed. It sounded like a snort and made her bristle with indignation. “Cold, hard cash. Plenty of it.” About to step across the threshold, he paused in stride, one foo tfirmly set on her turf, the other about to land in his office.

“How much?” Nina blushed to the roots of her hair knotted at her nape. Had she actually uttered those words? She swallowed. Okay, he was serving up a deal that didn’t cross a girl’s desk every day.

Wouldn’t hurt to get the particulars, would it? It could be her ticket out of a nine to five and enable her to open her lingerie boutique before her thirtieth birthday which was just months away. She’d achieve financial independence and go full force after the creepola who lured her father away, leaving her mother a broken heap.

Nina took a breath and shook herself from her lapse into the past. Removing her glasses, she blinked at Cade’s back, and a funny sensation fluttered in her stomach. She ignored it. Mustn’t skip lunch again.

Working through lunch and after hours afforded her time to search for answers. Now, here was the boss handing her a prime opportunity to get them. She propped her eyeglasses back on her nose. Being linked to Cade Sloan would give her access to confidential files that might give her the coup to her father’s whereabouts.

Would she dare? And if she did, could she go through with it?

Her palms grew moist, and she swiped them on her loose fitting dress.

A nervous giggle slipped between her lips. Would it be so awful, if it got her closer to her goal?

But what if you fall for him? She rolled her eyes. Not a chance in hell.

“Fifty thousand.” Cade turned, setting both feet on the floorboards, and held her gaze.

“Wha-at?” Her mind filled with possibilities before his words had her clambering to refocus.

“Fifty grand.”

“That’s pocket change.” She retorted, surprising herself. She must be dimwitted to even debate this with him. It could explode in her face. But if she sampled, he’d have to up the stakes big time. She did a quick calculation. “That’s not even two per cent of the purse.”

“Name your cut.” He circled her desk like an opponent in the ring, and she caught a whiff of his aftershave. Cool spice.

A rush of air filled her lungs, and she let it hurl out in a miniature tornado. “Half the take, no sex, and I’m gone right after the ceremony.”

He eyed her like he was going for her jugular. “Sex is a non-negotiable item in this deal.” A guffaw ripped from deep in his throat. “A real marriage is the backer’s price.”

Nina grasped the mug between her hands, gulped several mouthfuls of the now lukewarm coffee and plunked it back on the coaster. The black brew sloshed the sides of the cup, but didn’t spill. She picked up a pencil and tapped it on the desktop. She hadn’t worked for Cade Sloan without learning a thing or two about savvy —make that cutthroat—business wheeling and dealing. She cleared her throat. “Fifty percent, one night of s-s-se—”

“With me.” He grinned, and from her vantage it looked like a leer.

She ignored the hit. “ After the ring’s on my finger, one night with y-y-ou, and then I’m gone.”

“ Hasta la vista , babe?” He winked. She nodded. She couldn’t speak.

Her heart squeezed itself into a fist. She must be nuts to engage in this deal with him. She had to find another way to fund her search…support her mother, herself, pay the PI, get answers, find her father.

“Works for me.” He rolled up his sleeves and flexed his arms.

“It does?” She let herself consider her future husband-to-be. He was well built and tanned…must be all that trekking around constructions sites. The August heat branded his brown hair with sunlight, and she wondered how soft—