The Playboy s Proposition

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The Playboy s Proposition Page 1

by Leanne Banks




  “As Part Of The Deal, You And I Will Continue The Affair We Started A Month Ago.”

  Her jaw dropped in shock. “You’re joking, aren’t you?”

  “I told you there would be a cost. Can you honestly tell me that you didn’t enjoy that night we shared?”

  Her cheeks turned pink with the color that damned her protest.

  “You and I have a lot in common,” he said. “And it translates physically. I can give you something you need and you give me something I want.” He wouldn’t use the word need. He would never be that vulnerable.

  “So, you’re buying me,” she whispered.

  “The drama isn’t necessary,” he said in a dry voice. “I want you. If you’ll admit it, you want me, too. I can give you things you need, but I want something in return. What’s wrong with that?”

  She closed her eyes, her dark eyelashes providing a fan of mystery. One. Two. Three seconds later, she opened her eyes and stared at him. “What’s wrong with that? Just everything.”

  Dear Reader,

  Happy Valentine’s Day! I’m sending you something better than chocolate—powerful and hot Michael Medici!

  The Playboy’s Proposition features sexy, self-made workaholic Michael of THE MEDICI MEN. Michael is accustomed to getting what he wants, and he wants Bella St. Clair.

  Despite their strength and resilience, both suffer pain and secret guilt and would do anything to make things right for their loved ones. Michael doesn’t understand his deeper than bone-deep attraction to Bella. And Bella doesn’t trust Michael with her broken heart.

  What they have to learn is how to deal with the unexpected, amazing experience of finding their soul mates. As you, dear reader, already know, a soul mate is that special person who loves you, heals you and inspires you to be the best person you can be. And you do the same for them!

  Please drop me a line if you get a chance to read Michael and Bella’s story. I would love to hear from you at [email protected]

  Wishing you all the best in love and life,

  Leanne Banks

  LEANNE BANKS

  THE PLAYBOY’S PROPOSITION

  Books by Leanne Banks

  Silhouette Desire

  * Royal Dad #1400

  Tall, Dark & Royal #1412

  * His Majesty, M.D. #1435

  The Playboy & Plain Jane #1483

  * Princess in His Bed #1515

  Between Duty and Desire #1599

  Shocking the Senator #1621

  Billionaire’s Proposition #1699

  † Bedded by the Billionaire #1863

  † Billionaire’s Marriage Bargain #1886

  Blackmailed Into a Fake Engagement #1916

  † Billionaire Extraordinaire #1939

  ** From Playboy to Papa! #1987

  ** The Playboy’s Proposition #1995

  LEANNE BANKS

  is a New York Times and USA TODAY bestselling author who is surprised every time she realizes how many books she has written. Leanne loves chocolate, the beach and new adventures. To name a few, Leanne has ridden on an elephant, stood on an ostrich egg (no, it didn’t break), gone parasailing and indoor skydiving. Leanne loves writing romance because she believes in the power and magic of love. She lives in Virginia with her family and four-and-a-half-pound Pomeranian named Bijou. Visit her Web site at www.leannebanks.com.

  This book is dedicated to the BBs. Thank you

  for providing me with never-ending inspiration.

  Catherine Baker, Peggy Blake, Coco Carruth,

  Ann Cholewinski, Rose Dunn, Kim Jones,

  Mina McAllister, Sharon Neblett, Terry Parker,

  Terri Shea, Sandy Smith, Kathy Venable,

  Jane Wargo, Kathy Zaremba.

  Contents

  Prologue

  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

  Chapter Fourteen

  Epilogue

  Prologue

  M r. Always-Pays-Cash-And-Tips-Well. Bella St. Clair spotted the hot, sophisticated dark-haired customer in the back corner of the packed Atlanta bar. He’d been there four of the ten nights she’d worked at Monahan’s. Always polite, he’d chatted with her a few times, making her feel like a person instead of just a cocktail waitress. Despite the fact that in terms of romance her heart was deader than a doornail, and she was distracted about her aunt’s latest problem, Bella felt a fraction of her misery fade at the sight of him.

  He gave a slight nod and she moved toward him. “Good evening. How are you tonight?” she asked, setting a paper napkin on the table.

  He hesitated a half beat then shrugged. “I’ve had better,” he said.

  A shot of empathy twisted through her. She could identify with him. Her aunt’s business had been turned over to the bank one month ago today and Bella knew it was at least partly her fault. “Sorry,” she said. “Maybe the atmosphere here will distract you. A jazz artist will be playing in a little while. What can I get for you?”

  “Maclellan single malt whiskey,” he said.

  She lifted her eyebrows at the expensive beverage and nodded. “Excellent choice for either a rough night or a celebration. Can I get you anything to eat with that?”

  “No thanks. Rowdy crowd tonight,” he said, nodding toward the large table in the center of the room. “Must be the snow.”

  She glanced toward the curtained windows in dismay. “I’ve been so busy since I arrived that I didn’t notice. I heard the forecast, but it’s rare to get the white stuff here. Think it’ll be just a dusting?” she asked hopefully.

  He shook his head. “We’re already past a dusting. The roads should be covered in an hour.”

  “Great,” she muttered. “My little car is gonna love this trip home.”

  “What do you drive?” he asked, curiosity glinting in his dark eyes.

  “Volkswagen Beetle.”

  He chuckled. “I guess that’s better than a motorcycle.”

  She felt a bubble of gallows amusement. “Thanks for the encouragement. I’ll be right back with your whiskey.” She got his drink from the bartender and made her way through the crowd, carefully balancing the glass of whiskey on her tray. Heaven knew, she didn’t want to spill a drop. The stuff cost fifty bucks a shot.

  She wondered what had caused her handsome customer the pain she glimpsed in his dark eyes. He emanated confidence and a kind of dynamic electricity that snapped her out of the twilight zone she’d been in for the last month.

  She set the glass in front of him. “There you go,” she said, meeting his dark gaze and feeling a surprising sizzle. She blinked. Where had that come from? She’d thought all her opportunities for sizzle had passed her by.

  She watched him lift the glass to his lips and take a sip. The movement drew her attention to his mouth, sensual and firm. She felt a burning sensation on her own lips, surprised again at her reaction.

  “Thanks,” he said.

  She nodded, transfixed.

  “Hey babe,” a voice called from behind her. “We want another round.”

  The call pulled her out of her temporary daze. “Oops. Gotta go. Do you need anything else?”

  “Water when you get a chance,” he said. “Thank you very much, Bella,” he said in a voice that made her stomach dip.

  She turned around, wishing she knew his name. “Wow,” she whispered to herself. Based on her reaction to the man, one would almost think she was the one drinkin
g whiskey. Crazy, she thought, and returned to the rest of her customers.

  Another dead end. Sometimes it seemed his life’s curse was to never find his brother. Too restless to suffer the stark silence in his luxury home, Michael Medici settled back in his seat in a corner of the crowded popular bar, one of several he owned in Atlanta.

  Michael usually craved quiet at the end of the day, but tonight was different. The din of Atlanta’s young crowd buffeted the frustration and pain rolling inside him.

  Michael spent the next hour allowing himself the luxury of watching Bella. After the disappointing news from the private investigator, he craved a distraction. He wondered if he would ever find out what had truly happened to his brother all those years ago. Or if he was cursed to stay in limbo for the rest of his life.

  Forcing his mind away from his frustration, he watched Bella, enjoying the way she bit her pink mouth when she met his gaze. Feeling the arousal build between them, he toyed with the idea of taking her home with him. Some might consider that arrogant, given he’d just met her recently, but Michael usually got what he wanted from business and the opposite sex.

  He slid his gaze over her curvy body. Her uniform, consisting of a white blouse, black skirt and tights, revealed rounded breasts, a narrow waist and inviting hips. Her legs weren’t bad, either.

  She set another glass of water on his table.

  “How are you liking it here?” he asked.

  She hesitated and met his gaze. “It’s good so far. I’ve been out of the country for a year. I’m re-acclimating to being an average American again.”

  “You don’t look average to me,” he said. “What were you doing out of the country if you don’t mind my asking?”

  “Disaster relief.”

  “Ah,” he said with a nod. A do-gooder. Perhaps that accounted for her other-worldly aura. “How’s the transition going?”

  “Bumpy,” she said with a smile that made him feel like he’d been kicked in his gut.

  He didn’t make a habit of picking up cocktail waitresses, especially those who worked for businesses he owned, but this one intrigued him. He wondered if she was the kind of woman who would be impressed by his wealth. Just for fun, he decided to keep his identity a secret a little longer. He liked the idea of not dealing with dollar signs in a woman’s eyes. He’d been featured in the Atlanta magazine often enough that he could rarely meet someone without them knowing way too much about him. Way too much about his business success, anyway.

  “I don’t see a ring on your finger, Bella,” he said.

  Her eyes showed a trace of sadness. “That’s right. You don’t.”

  “Would you like me to give you a ride home? I think my SUV may be better able to take on a snowy road.”

  Her eyes widened slightly in surprise and he watched her pause in a millisecond of indecision. “I’m not supposed to fraternize with the customers.”

  “Once we step outside the door, I won’t be one any longer,” he said, familiar with the policy.

  She looked both tempted and reluctant. “I don’t even know your name.”

  “Michael. I’ll hang around awhile longer,” he said, amused that she’d almost turned him down. He tried to remember the last time that had happened.

  Watching her from his corner, he noticed a man reaching toward her. She backed away and the man stood. Michael narrowed his eyes.

  The man reached for her and pulled her against him. “Come on baby, you’re so hot. And it’s cold outside…” The man slid his hand down toward her bottom.

  Already on his feet, Michael walked toward Bella and pushed the man aside and into a chair. “I think you’ve had too much.” Glancing around the room, he saw the bar manager, Jim, and gave a quick curt nod.

  Seconds later, Jim arrived, stumbling over his words. “I’ll take care of this Mr.—”

  Michael gave another curt nod, cutting the man off mid-sentence. “Thank you. Perhaps your staff needs a break.”

  Jim nodded. “Take the rest of the night off,” the manager said.

  Her face pale, Bella hesitated. “I—”

  “I’ll give you a ride whenever you want to go,” Michael said. “I can take you somewhere quieter.”

  She met his gaze and he saw a glimmer of trust in her eyes as if she felt the same strange sense of connection with him he did with her. She paused a halfbeat, then nodded. “Okay.”

  An hour and a half later, Bella realized she’d told half her life story to the hot man who’d rescued her at work. She’d told him about how her Aunt Charlotte had raised her. She’d even vaguely mentioned being a failure at her love life. Every time she thought about Stephen, a stab of loss wrenched through her. She knew she would never get over him. Never. The worst though, was her crushing guilt over not being with her aunt while she suffered through the cancer treatment.

  Although she hadn’t mentioned any names, she was appalled at how much she’d revealed. “I’ve done all the talking,” she said, covering her face. “And I can’t even blame it on alcohol because, except for that first mangotini, I’ve been drinking water. You heard enough about me a long time ago. Your turn. Tell me why this has been a rotten day for you.”

  “I can’t agree about hearing enough about you,” he said with a half smile playing over his beautiful mouth. It occurred to Bella that his mouth, his face, should have been carved in marble and exhibited in a museum. She glanced at his broad shoulders and fit body. Perhaps his body, too, she thought.

  “You’re very kind,” she said. “But it’s still your turn.”

  He gave a low chuckle, his dark eyes mysterious. “Not many people have described me as kind. But if you insist,” he said, lifting his own glass of water to take a drink.

  “I do,” she said.

  “My parents died when I was young, so I wasn’t raised by them. You and I share that in common.”

  “Who did raise you?” she asked.

  “I wasn’t lucky enough to have an Aunt Charlotte,” he said. “No need for sympathy,” he said.

  “Oh,” she said, studying his face. He was an interesting combination of strength and practicality. “That must have been hard, though.”

  “It was,” he nodded and paused a moment. “The accident tore my family apart.”

  “That’s horrible,” she said, filled with questions.

  “It was,” he agreed. “I keep wondering if I could have done something…”

  Silence followed, and Bella felt a well of understanding build inside her. The force of the emotion should have surprised her, but she identified with the depth of his misery all too easily. She slid her hand over his. “You feel guilty, don’t you?”

  He glanced down at her hand on his. “Every day,” he said. He broke off. “It’s probably just a wish…”

  Her heart twisted inside her. “I understand,” she whispered.

  He rubbed his thumb over her hand. “You’re not just beautiful. You’re intuitive,” he said.

  Bella wouldn’t have called herself beautiful. In fact, she couldn’t remember anyone doing so except Stephen. Her stomach knotted at the memory. He would never call her beautiful again, now that he’d fallen in love with someone else.

  “There you go again, being too kind,” she said.

  “You have that confused. I suspect you’re the kind one. I can’t believe you don’t have to turn away men all the time.”

  “Now that’s flattery,” she said. “Unless you’re counting the ones who’ve had too much to drink at the bar.” She knew she was unusual looking. The contrast of her dark hair, intense eyes and pale skin sometimes drew second glances, but she suspected they were more due to curiosity than admiration.

  “I’d like to spend more time with you,” he said, his eyes dark with seduction.

  Her heart, which she’d thought was dead, tripped over itself. Bella reminded herself that her heart raced for many reasons, fear, excitement, inexplicable arousal…

  “I’m not in the best place emotionally for
any sort of relationship.”

  “I wasn’t suggesting anything serious,” he said. “The only thing we need to take seriously is each other’s pleasure.”

  Her breath caught at the sensual expression on his face. “A one-night stand?” she said, surprised she wasn’t immediately rejecting the offer. Heaven knew, she’d never accepted such a proposition before. That had been before she’d fallen in love and lost her heart. That had been before she’d had her chance and saw it slip away. Michael wasn’t suggesting anything like that. She felt a surprising twinge of relief.

  “It depends on what we want after the night is over. You and I have some things in common. I could make you forget your problems for awhile. I think you could do the same for me.”

  The lure was too tempting. He was strong, but she’d glimpsed his humanity and for some reason there was a strange connection between them. A connection that made her feel a little more alive than like the walking dead.

  She took a sip to moisten her suddenly dry throat. Was she really going to do this? “I don’t even know your last name,” she said.

  “Michael Medici,” he said with a slight smile. “You can run a background check, but you won’t find anything on me. We’d also be wasting time. If you need someone to vouch for me, you can call your boss. He knows me.”

  One

  B ella awakened to the sensation of being covered in the softest, finest cotton sheets…and wrapped in the strong, but unfamiliar arms of the man who’d made love to her most of the night.

  Her chest tightened into a hard knot at the realization that she’d slept with a near stranger. What had possessed her? Was it because she still hadn’t recovered from her breakup with her ex-fiancé? Was it because she needed to escape the guilt she felt for not being there for her aunt when she’d needed her most?

 

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