Claimed by the Millionaire: The Wealthy Frenchman's Proposition. Michelle Celmer

      “Yes, exactly. You do this for me and then I do something for you in return.”

      “What kind of favor?” she asked.

      “Any. Your choice.”

      He seemed to have given this some thought. “I don’t know. I’m not really that good at social stuff.”

      “I’ll show you. That will be part of my favor to you.”

      “I’m still not sure… I can’t make a decision like this so quickly.”

      “There is not much time. I’m leaving at 8:00 a.m. tomorrow on my jet.

      “Sheri, I need you,” he said, walking over to her and putting his hands on the arms of the chair. He leaned in close, and she shut her eyes as she breathed in the delicious scent of his aftershave.

      He needed her. Oh, man, there was no way she was going to say no. Ten days of just her and Tristan… She couldn’t resist the opportunity to get him to see her as more than just his assistant.

Two

      The marriage of his best friend was a good reason to celebrate but, since Cecile’s death, weddings had become painful for Tristan. Still…on this day, with the sun shining brightly in the Greek sky and the champagne flowing freely, he wasn’t focused on the past.

      In fact, as the reception progressed, he was becoming more and more obsessed with Sheri. He’d invited his assistant because he knew that bringing a real date to a wedding always made the woman start looking at him like he had the potential to be a husband.

      He wasn’t going down the aisle again.

      Yet…there was something about Sheri that he found comforting. She was fun to work with, she was pleasing to look at it. Not a world-class beauty, but so unassuming about her looks that it was refreshing to be around her.

      But today she looked exquisite. The pale bridesmaid’s dress made her skin glow and the subtle makeup that someone had applied to her face gave her an understated beauty that he couldn’t keep his eyes from. Seeing her move lithely through the stately, beautiful Theakis home and grounds where the wedding was being held had put her into a new light.

      “You’re staring at your secretary,” Gui said as he came up behind Tristan.

      “Am I?”

      Gui arched one eyebrow at Tristan but said nothing more. Count Guillermo de Cuaron y Bautista de la Cruz was one of his two best friends, Christos Theakis, the groom, being the other member of their triad. They’d met at boarding school in Switzerland when they’d all been ten, three young hell-raisers who had nothing in common except being second sons, boys who’d grown up with no pressure or expectations.

      In their twenties, they’d started a business called Seconds, a string of nightclubs in posh hot spots all over the world. The exclusive clubs were the place to see and be seen the world over, and every night the bouncers turned away more celebrities, wannabes and hangers on than they let in.

      He heard the husky sound of Sheri’s laughter and Lucille’s familiar snort and smiled to himself. Lucille, who knew Christos well from working with Tristan for so long, had also flown up for the wedding, and the two women had hit it off in person. He wasn’t really surprised, because Sheri was one of those women that everyone got along with, and she and Lucille had already been friendly via the phone.

      He didn’t examine too closely why he’d asked Sheri, and not Lucille, to be his companion for the wedding.

      “You’re staring again…are you falling for her?”

      “Falling for who?”

      “Your secretary.”

      “You know how I am. She’s pretty and available.”

      “And that’s enough for tonight,” Gui said.

      Tristan shrugged. He didn’t like to talk about his attitude toward women. He had two sisters and had been married to the love of his life. If he’d been a different man with a different sex drive, he would have lived the rest of his life as a celibate. A part of him had died with Cecile.

      But he had never been able to turn off his attraction to the opposite sex. Six months after her death, he’d found himself starting a string of one-week affairs. Sex was the only thing he’d ever take from the women he became involved with.

      He suspected that would not be enough for Sheri. She also worked for him, and that complicated things. He shook his head and signaled the waiter for another glass of wine. The vintage was a very nice one from his family’s vineyards.

      “Tris?”

      “Hmm?”

      “She’s not like your other women—”

      “I know that, Gui.”

      Gui nodded. “I can’t believe that Christos is married.”

      “It’s not the death sentence you think it is.” Though he’d never admit it, Tristan envied Gui his attitude. Gui had never been serious about one woman, and he moved through life with a kind of light charm that Tristan admired.

      The music changed and a sweet, slow song came on. Couples filled the dance floor with Ava and Christos in the center. They seemed so… He shook his head, not willing to go there.

      “I have to go,” Gui suddenly said.

      “Why?”

      “Those men are too old for Augustina,” Gui said, acting the protective older brother to his sister, who had been Gui’s companion in the wedding party. Tristan bit back a smile as he watched his friend wedge his way between Augustina and her suitors.

      He felt a small hand on his arm and glanced down at Sheri. “Having fun?” he asked.

      “Yes. I can’t believe I was reluctant to come,” she said. Her breath smelled faintly of champagne. She held a half-empty glass in her right hand. She tucked her left hand between his arm and body.

      She closed her eyes and swayed to the music. Just a little movement and humming under her breath.

      “Are you enjoying the reception?” he asked.

      “Yes, I am. Ava’s so sweet. Thank you for inviting me to join you this week.”

      “You’re welcome. I believe I owe you something.”

      “What do you owe me, Tristan?”

      There was a dreamy quality to her voice. From the first it had been obvious to him that she was attracted to him. But she was careful to keep that attraction to herself and had put a barrier between them. Put him into a box, so it seemed. But tonight…tonight, with the trio playing romantic music and the wine flowing freely, none of that mattered.

      “Dance with me, ma douce?”

      She smiled up at him. “I’d love to.”

      He had never seen that exact look in her eyes before. “You seem different.”

      “Maybe that’s because we’re not in the office.”

      “No, we are not. What difference does that make to you, Sheri?”

      “It makes all the difference in the world, Tristan.”

      She wrapped her arms around his shoulders and leaned up on tiptoe, brushing her lips against his neck. “This is so nice.”

      Tristan knew he should pull away and let her go but instead he leaned down, put his hand under her chin and tipped her head up toward his. His lips found hers easily and she sighed into his mouth as their lips met.

      The wedding that she’d been nervous about participating in had taken on a certain dreamlike state. The champagne was good. Very good. There really was