The Playboy's Proposition(2)

"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?She blinked her bleary eyes several times  then closed them again. It had been so easy to accept Michael Medici's  offer to drive her home in the rare Atlanta snowstorm with a stop at a  cozy bar. Somehow, she'd ended up in his bed instead.

Taking a quick breath, she felt the overwhelming need to run. This had  been a huge mistake. She wasn't that kind of woman. Scooting a  millimeter at a time, she got to the side of the bed and gently slid her  foot to the ground.                       
       
           



       

"Where are you going?" Michael asked, causing her to stop midmotion.

She glanced over her shoulder and the sight of him covered by a sheet  only from the waist down made her throat tighten. In the soft darkness  before dawn, he leaned against one forearm, and his broad shoulders and  muscular chest emanated strength. She forced herself to meet his gaze  and saw what had attracted her from the beginning-dark eyes that glowed  with confidence and attentiveness. She'd pushed her fingers through his  dark curly hair. His mouth had taken her with shocking passion.

She cleared her throat and tried to clear her mind. "I realized I have a job interview today. I should get home."

"You don't think the interview will be canceled due to the snowstorm?" he asked.

"Well, I can't be sure," she said a bit too brightly for her own ears.  "Always best to be prepared. You don't have to get up. I'll call a cab."

He gave a short laugh and rose from the bed. "Fat chance in this weather. I'll take you."

She looked away. "Oh, no really-"

"I insist," he said in a rock-solid tone.

"But my car," she said.

"I'll have my driver bring it to your place."

One hour later, Michael turned into her apartment complex. Bella let out  a tiny breath of relief in anticipation of escaping such close confines  with him. During the silent ride, she'd spent every other minute  castigating herself for making such a foolish choice. She needed to step  up and be there for her aunt. She refused to be like her  mother-irresponsible and careless of others' needs.

"Is this the building?" Michael asked.

"Yes," she said, her hand on the door as he pulled to a stop. "I really appreciate the ride home. It was very kind of you."

"I'd like to see you again," he said, and something in his voice forced her to meet his gaze.

If she were another person, if she had fewer responsibilities, if she  weren't still in love with a man she couldn't have … too many ifs.

She shook her head. "It's not a good idea. I shouldn't have-" She broke off and cleared her throat. Lord, this was awkward.

He leaned toward her. "You didn't like being in my bed?" he asked, but it was more of a dare than a question.

She sucked in a quick breath. "I didn't say that. I just have a lot  going on right now. I think being with you could be confusing for me."

"It doesn't have to be confusing," he said. "It's simple. I meet your needs and you meet mine."

She couldn't stop a bubble of nervous laughter as she looked into his  dark gaze. How could anything with this man ever be simple? She was out  of her league and she knew it. "I-uh-I don't think so." She shook her  head. "Thank you for bringing me home."





Bella raced inside her apartment and closed the door behind her. She  took several deep breaths, still unable to believe that she had spent  the night with a man she barely knew.She checked the time. A little too  early for her regular morning call with Aunt Charlotte. She took a  shower and let the hot spray rinse away her stress and warm her from the  outside in. For a few minutes, she forgot about her worries and focused  on the warm water.

After she got out of the shower, she dried off, dressed and checked the  time again. She dialed her aunt's number and waited while it rang  several times. Bella felt her concern grow the longer it took for  Charlotte to answer.

Bella had almost lost her and she still could. Her aunt was recovering  from breast cancer and a year of grueling treatment, a year when Bella  had been away pursuing her dream. If only Charlotte hadn't kept her  illness a secret.

"Hello," her aunt said in a sleepy voice.

"Oh, no, I woke you," Bella said.

"No," Charlotte said and sighed. "Well, actually you did. The shop is closed today."