Memo: The Billionaire's Proposal. Melissa McClone

      

       Anticipation shot from her lips all the way down to her toes. She swallowed. “Just one kiss?”

      “Only one,” he whispered.

      Slowly, as if giving her the chance to say no or back away again, he brought his mouth toward hers.

      Every nerve-ending tingled in hope. But a voice—common sense, perhaps?—shouted a warning.

      Too late. She raised her chin and closed her eyes.

      His lips touched gently against hers, as if joining something delicate or fragile. Light, soft, tender.

      The way he kissed made her feel cherished and adored, and she liked thinking he cared for her in that way. An inviting warmth, like a sunny day after a rainstorm, settled over her, making her feel as if she’d finally reached the destination she’d been seeking.

      Drake kept his hands at his sides and only touched her with his lips. Yet she felt a closeness, as if she were being embraced.

      Not at all how she’d thought Drake Llewelyn would kiss, but it was enough to tell her what she’d known in her heart, what she’d feared.

      One kiss would never be enough.

       9 to 5

      From city girl—to corporate wife!

      They’re working side by side, nine to five…

      But, no matter how hard these couples

      try to keep their relationships strictly professional,

      romance is undeniably on the agenda!

      Will a date in the office diary

      lead to an appointment at the altar?

      Find out in this exciting mini-series.

      Look out for more office romances, coming soon!

      With a degree in mechanical engineering from Stanford University, the last thing Melissa McClone ever thought she would be doing was writing romance novels. But analysing engines for a major US airline just couldn’t compete with her ‘happily-ever-afters’. When she isn’t writing, caring for her three young children or doing laundry, Melissa loves to curl up on the couch with a cup of tea, her cats and a good book. She enjoys watching home decorating shows to get ideas for her house—a 1939 cottage that is slowly being renovated. Melissa lives in Lake Oswego, Oregon, with her own real-life hero husband, two daughters, a son, two loveable but oh-so-spoiled indoor cats, and a no-longer-stray outdoor kitty that decided to call the garage home. Melissa loves to hear from her readers. You can write to her at PO Box 63, Lake Oswego, OR 97034, USA, or contact her via her website: www.melissamcclone.com

      MEMO: THE BILLIONAIRE’S PROPOSAL

      BY

      MELISSA McCLONE

       MILLS & BOON^®

       www.millsandboon.co.uk

      For my blog readers,

      especially Amy, Brandy, catslady, Dru, Jane, limecello,

      Nathalie, Rottie_mom, Sarita, Tori and Virginia,

      Whose daily comments kept me smiling

      while I finished writing this book.

      Special thanks to Robin Barrett, M.D.,

      Roxanne and Brian Coyne, Greg Taylor, Virginia

      Kantra, Terri Reed and my family.

      PROLOGUE

      “I KNEW this internship was a chance of a lifetime, but I never thought I’d make so many wonderful friends.” As the smell of beer and grease wafted in the air at the Hare and Stag pub, Chaney Sullivan raised a pint of ale in honor of the twelve coworkers sitting around the table for her going-away party. Her chest tightened at the thought of leaving London. “I’m going to miss you all so much.”

      “Just wait until we show up on your doorstep wanting to go to Disneyland.” Gemma, who rented a room to Chaney, tossed her mane of blond hair behind her shoulder. “You won’t be missing us then.”

      “Disneyland, Universal Studies, Beverly Hills, Venice Beach.” The thought of seeing these people again brought a ball of warmth to the center of Chaney’s chest. She set her glass on the table. “I’m happy to play tour guide if any of you come visit Los Angeles.”

      “Does that include me?” a deep male voice said from behind her.

      The familiar Welsh accent filled her tummy with butterflies. The flapping of their wings matched the speed of her pulse.

      She stood, turned and faced Drake Llewelyn, CEO of Dragon Llewelyn Limited. The top of her head came to his chin, and she stared up at him.

      His glossy-magazine-model good looks and athletic build, hidden beneath an expensive tailored suit, always brought oohs and ahs from females. His way of making each employee feel as if they were the key to his company’s success had earned him the gratitude of all who worked for him regardless of gender. But in Chaney’s opinion his can-do attitude and work ethic were what made the man.

      At twenty-nine years old—only seven years older than she was herself—he’d built Dragon Llewelyn into a successful multinational corporation with a global portfolio of media and telecommunications businesses. This he’d done through a combination of raw sweat and street smarts.

      Her smile widened with admiration. She couldn’t help herself.

      He looked every inch a power broker, except for one thing—his hair. No neatly trimmed above the collar, corporate style for him. His dark wavy locks fell past his collar in the back, making him look more rakish than respectable.

      She’d imagined running her fingers through his hair more than once. She’d imagined herself doing a lot of things with him. None of which had anything to do with her internship responsibilities.

      He raised a brow, as if waiting for an answer. Which he was, she realized. Drake Llewelyn didn’t like waiting for anything or anyone. In the four months she’d been interning in the mergers and acquisitions department, she’d learned that much about him.

      Chaney lifted her chin, acting bolder than she felt. The beer, she wondered, or maybe the realization she would be an ocean and continent away from him tomorrow night. “Of course that includes you, Mr. Llewelyn.”

      “Drake,” he corrected. “As of an hour ago, your internship ended. You no longer work for me.”

      His warm brown eyes with golden flecks gazed into hers, making Chaney feel as if she were the next special project he wanted to tackle. Her insides quivered.

      Not that he would, with the bevy of beautiful women he dated and a supermodel currently being deemed his girlfriend du jour by the media.

      But the thought raised Chaney’s temperature ten degrees. If this were a birthday party instead of a going-away party, she knew what she’d wish for when blowing out the candles.

      “Drake.” She forced the name from her parched throat, feeling more like a tweener with her first crush than a twenty-two year old woman. Okay, she did have a huge crush on him, as did every other female who worked at the company. Probably every woman who breathed, no matter what age or marital status.

      The man was a catch.

      His chiseled cheekbones and jaw tempted a woman to reach out and touch them. His full lips hinted at long, hot kisses. And his bank account promised a life free from financial worry.

      Prince Charming had nothing on Drake Llewelyn. He was King Midas and Adonis rolled into one. What woman wouldn’t want to be the one who captured his heart?