Melissa McClone - Plain Jane's Prince Charming

As she looked into his intense blue eyes, everything stopped. She couldn’t breathe let alone remember her name.

From the angular planes of his face to the slight cleft in his chin to his oh-so-kissable full lips, each feature fit perfectly together with his warm, bright eyes. His blond hair fell in loose curls and brushed the back of his grayish-blue dress shirt collar and navy sports coat. No man could be so naturally good-looking. There had to be a flaw, something more than a mole or two…

And then she found it—a jagged scar running through his right eyebrow. But rather than distracting from his looks it gave him an edge, a sexy, dangerous edge. She stepped back and bumped into the table. Her heart rate increased.

“Jay?” he asked.

“Jane.” Her voice sounded different, lower. She cleared her dry throat. “Jane Dawson.”

“Chase Ryder.”

Everything in her revolted. This was worse than before. He was too young, too handsome, too…male, like a cowboy who’d wandered into the wrong building. Wide shoulders and tall, six feet at least, as the top of her head came up only to his chin. Talk about being at a disadvantage.

“You wanted to speak with me?” he repeated.

His honey rich voice washed over her sending her temperature up at least another twenty degrees.

Don’t freak out. She could do this. So what if he was the most attractive man she’d ever seen? So what if he was richer than Midas himself? A family’s financial future depended on her. She couldn’t be derailed by a pretty—make that gorgeous—face.

“Yes.” Jane extended her arm only to realize she was holding the towel full of smashed fruit. She tossed the rag on the table and wiped her hand on her apron. “I did.”

He glanced at the watch he wore on his right wrist. “I’ve got three minutes.”

His terse response irked her, but what was she going to do? She had less than three minutes to get his help. “I’m organizing a fundraising event to assist paying for the medical expenses of a four-year-old fighting leukemia. The little girl is being raised by a single mother who works, but doesn’t have health insurance.”

She took a breath. “I sent two letters to your foundation about getting sponsorship for the event and left three voice mails, but never received any response. Since I was going to be here this morning, I thought I’d save another stamp and ask you myself though I realize your foundation isn’t associated with Cyberworx.”

He studied her, his appraising gaze missing nothing. Never had she felt so self-conscious and exposed in her freshly creased black twill pants, crisp white blouse and apron. She tucked a strand back into her ponytail.

“And you’re here for…?” he asked.

“The food.” She motioned to the name embroidered on her apron. “I’m…we catered the meeting. The Hearth. It’s a coffee house located in the Pearl district.”

“I’ve heard of it,” he acknowledged. “The Hearth is one of our caterers, but I don’t recognize you.”

“I usually work at the coffee house, not catering jobs. Except for today.” Jane wet her lips. “My, um, boss said I could talk to you as long as I wasn’t bothering you. Am I bothering you, Mr. Ryder?”

“It’s Chase, and no, you’re not bothering me.”

Thank goodness. Too bad she couldn’t say the same thing about him. Okay, he wasn’t exactly bothering her, just leaving her hot and bothered. He might not have the personality to match his good looks, but she would still need an iced cappuccino to cool her down once she finished here. “I know you’re busy and my time is almost up, but I’d be happy to send or e-mail more information about the fundraising event or buy you lunch so we could discuss it further.”

He raised a brow. “Buy me lunch?”

Lunch? Had she said that? More proof she wasn’t cut out for this sort of thing, but it was too late to back out now. “Lunch at the Hearth. I do get an employee discount, but we make a tasty…” Their deli sandwiches, soups and salads might not cut it for a man who could buy himself whatever he wanted. Think. Think. Think. “A tasty grilled panini sandwich.”

The corners of his mouth lifted. “You have a lot of confidence in your cook.”

A lot more than she had in herself. Zoe was going to kill her. Jane tilted her chin anyway. “It’s my recipe.”

His gaze met hers for a moment and a pleasurable shiver inched down her spine. “How does one-thirty sound?” he asked.

“Today?”

He nodded once, and a curly piece of hair fell across his forehead. She ignored the temptation to push the curl back into place.

“G-great.” And Jane supposed it would be. Once her heart rate returned to normal and she told Zoe that the Hearth was going to be serving grilled panini sandwiches at lunchtime today.

With seven minutes between meetings, Chase paused in front of his longtime assistant’s desk. As Amanda disconnected from her call, he picked up the rake from her miniature Zen garden.

Amanda, an incredibly young looking fifty-three, gave him an indulgent smile. “Don’t you have a call with Zurich?”

He checked the time. “In six and a half minutes.”

“I don’t want to keep you waiting.” Amanda removed her headset and brushed her hand through her short, red hair. “What do you need, boss?”

He carved symmetrical rows in the sand. “Cancel everything on my schedule from one o’clock on.”

She frowned. “Today?”

The same response as Jane Dawson except Amanda sounded disgusted, not surprised. He nodded.

“I should have known.”

“Known what?”

“That things have been going too well for it to continue. I’ve managed to pick up Drew from soccer practice every night this week.” She typed on her computer. No doubt, pulling up Chase’s schedule. “But if there’s another fire to put out—”

“No fire,” he interrupted, not wanting her to worry. Amanda’s job required her to be on call 24/7. He appreciated her dedication and hard work. “This is personal.”

“Personal as in a dentist appointment or personal as in deciding to climb Mount Hood again?” She raised an eyebrow. “Or could it be you have a date?”

Seeing the growing interest in Amanda’s hazel eyes, he scratched his right cheek. She’d worked for him for nine years and knew him better than most. She also had a tendency to mother him—the only negative trait he’d discovered. “I have an appointment.”

“With a woman.”

It wasn’t a question. “Yes, but it’s not what you think.”

Amanda grinned. “How do you know what I’m thinking, boss?”

“The twinkle in your eye gives you away every time.”

“I want to see the same twinkle in your eyes.” Ever since remarrying after being widowed six years ago, Amanda wanted everyone to pair up. Much to the dismay of Cyberworx’s single male employees. “I just want you to be happy.”

“I am happy.”

“You need a woman.”

She sounded like his mom and sisters. He had it coming at him from all sides.

“I have plenty of women in my life.” Chase had everything he wanted. He didn’t need anything more. He drew a heart in the sand and crossed it out. “Just because you found ‘the one’ twice and remarried doesn’t mean the rest of us need to follow suit.” And ruin a good thing.

“Is she pretty?”

He glared at Amanda. Next time he would text message her and avoid another interrogation.

“Humor me, okay.”

Chase shrugged. “I guess she’s pretty.”

“You guess?”

He pictured Jane. “She’s got brown hair and wears purple wire-rimmed glasses. That’s what I remember about her.”

Not to mention her eyes. Or the way she wet her lips. But he wasn’t about to mention those things to Amanda.