An Indecent Proposition. Carol Marinelli

in it and wondered if she was preparing to join him.

      It had not been his intention to call her this morning, but he had thought of the day that stretched ahead, the wait that that would be interminable without diversion.

      ‘Forget it,’ he told himself, heading back to his suite, and to the shower. He would contact her later, take her to dinner—women were for the night-time, a reward for hard work, a balm for insomnia, not for spending the day with. Still, he was curious whether she had told Nico, which, he told himself, was the reason he had called her.

      Charlotte approached, and she was nervous, dressed in shorts and a strappy vest, topped with the previous day’s cardigan. Her eyes were bruised with lack of sleep courtesy of this very man. Another call to Nico had gone unanswered and, as gorgeous as the smile was as Zander turned to greet her, still she would set the ground rules.