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The Millionaire's Proposition
Avril Tremayne
A “friends with benefits” arrangement?• 2 nights a week• Strictly confidential• One month only…It might have been his proposition, but lawyer Kate Cleary is so buttoned up she whipped out a contract for them both to sign! With her high heels & stockings, all Scott Knight could do was sign and move to the implementation stage!Kate couldn’t be more jaded about relationships. Afterall, she is in the business of ending marriages! Millionaire architect Scott might be seriously sexy but he’s also a complicated enigma. One she’s quickly becoming determined to solve…even if that means breaking the terms of her own watertight contract?Sydney’s Most Eligible… miniseriesYoung, rich, and gorgeous, Rob, Scott, Brodie and Luke have the world at their feet and women queuing to get between their sheets.Now find out how the past and present collide for them in this stylish, sexy & glamorous new quartet!Book 1: Her Boss by Day… by Joss WoodBook 2: The Millionaire’s Proposition by Avril TremayneBook 3: The Tycoon’s Stowaway by Stefanie LondonBook 4: The Hotel Magnate’s Demand by Jennifer Rae
‘Now, are we doing the ground rules before or after I get my orgasm?’
‘Before,’ Kate said, any thought of backing away from their agreement obliterated by the heat of his words, the wild rush of desire that bolted through her.
‘Then let’s do it fast. Before I explode.’
The air was thick with lust as she guided him to the dining table, handed him the pages she’d prepared for their signatures.
‘So we’re—what?’ he asked. ‘Signing a contract?’
She nodded. ‘With a contract we’ll both know where we stand, what we can expect. It keeps things uncomplicated.’
Scott laughed, but didn’t refuse, so Kate started running through the clauses. She didn’t even make it through the first one before Scott cut her off.
‘Katie—you want a contract, then a contract it is. But it’s a sex contract—not a prenup or a business merger. And it’s not even legally enforceable, as we both know. So can you just give me the basics? Then I’ll sign—there’s no way I won’t—and we can move on to implementing it. Because if I have to go much longer without touching you I am going to go insane.’
SYDNEY’S MOST ELIGIBLE …
The men everyone is talking about!
Young, rich and gorgeous, Rob, Scott, Brodie and Luke have the world at their feet and women queuing to get between their sheets.
Find out how the past and the present collide for them in this stylish, sexy and glamorous new quartet!
These sexy Sydney tycoons didn’t get to the top by taking the easy way—the only thing they love more than a challenge is a woman who knows her mind!
So let the fireworks begin…!
HER BOSS BY DAY … by Joss Wood Available January 2015
THE MILLIONAIRE’S PROPOSITION by Avril Tremayne Available February 2015
THE TYCOON’S STOWAWAY by Stefanie London Available March 2015
THE HOTEL MAGNATE’S DEMAND by Jennifer Rae Available April 2015
You won’t want to miss any of the fabulous books in this sizzling mini-series!
AVRIL TREMAYNE is happily settled in her hometown of Sydney, Australia, where her husband and daughter try to keep her out of trouble—not always successfully. When she’s not writing or reading she can generally be found eating—although she does not cook!
Check out her website: www.avriltremayne.com (http://www.avriltremayne.com). Or follow her on Twitter: @AvrilTremayne (http://twitter.com/AvrilTremayne) and Facebook: www.facebook.com/avril.tremayne (http://www.facebook.com/avril.tremayne)
The
Millionaire’s
Proposition
Avril Tremayne
www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)
For Peter Alati—best brother ever.
Table of Contents
Cover (#u4ffdb686-0568-57f5-a528-4bc6e6449268)
Excerpt (#uc71b0409-a24c-5a71-8223-e9ee158bed89)
About the Author (#u93287987-3428-55a9-a0a8-6e813b36a2ce)
Title Page (#u93292a01-afb5-5981-843f-a742ce646e83)
Dedication (#u97b79a40-5d04-54ce-aa6a-8576fa503198)
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
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
CHAPTER NINETEEN
CHAPTER TWENTY
Copyright (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER ONE (#u2431157c-33d9-5605-940e-d342979ef081)
SCOTT KNIGHT TOOK one look at the redhead standing over at the punchbowl and almost swallowed his tongue.
Tall, confident, beautiful…and dyspeptically cynical, judging by the look on her face. He liked every single thing in that package.
So…exactly what was the pick-up etiquette associated with divorce parties? Were they like funerals—no hitting on attendees unless you wanted to look like a slimeball?
He pondered that while he took another look at the redhead.
Strictly speaking, of course, this was a little more than a divorce party; it was a celebratory segue to Willa’s new committed relationship with Rob. Scott wouldn’t normally have advocated a jump from one hot pan right into another—even when the guy in the second pan was Rob, who was several thousand light years ahead of Willa’s ex, Wayne-the-Pain—but he was suddenly cool with it if it lifted the party out of the funereal stakes and opened the way…
The redhead turned to the punchbowl for another dip. Scott noted that her body was divine. And he stopped worrying about anything other than getting his hands on it.
He headed over to the punchbowl with great purpose, grabbing a beer on the way—punch being way too girly for him. ‘What’s that quote about divorce…?’ he asked, tilting his head towards her—but it was a rhetorical question.
She turned before the words had finished leaving his mouth and a slap of undiluted lust walloped him. She was even better close-up. A scorching mix of opulent looks, with slanted grey eyes, wickedly arched dark auburn brows, regal cheekbones…and a top-lip-heavy mouth painted blistering red.
She didn’t bother answering. Clearly knew she didn’t have to. Knew he was already caught. He could tell by the way she waited, all self-possessed confidence, for him to continue, with the mere hint of a smile on her insanely sexy lips.
‘Jean Kerr, it was,’ he continued. ‘“A lawyer is never entirely comfortable with a friendly divorce, any more than a good mortician wants to finish his job and then have the patient sit up on the table.”’
The sexy lips parted in surprise…and then the corners tilted up, just a little. She looked fascinated. He took that as a sign—a good sign—that his opening conversational gambit had hit the mark. She was with him. Yes!
She took a slow sip of her punch and examined him. Down, up. ‘Are you in the market?’ she asked, and the smokiness of her voice had his libido purring like a tomcat on the hunt.
Mmm-hmm. She’d not only caught him, she was well on the way to hog-tying him and dumping him in a babbling heap at her feet. And he wasn’t complaining.
Scott gave her his I am available for sex immediately smile, which he liked to call his Number One smile, because it seemed to be the one that got the most use.
‘Why, yes, I do happen to be in the market,’ he said.
She laughed. Throatily gorgeous. ‘I meant the divorce market.’
‘I’m not married, if that’s what you’re asking. Or engaged.’ Little step closer. ‘Or partnered in any way, shape or form.’
She made a little moue with her luscious lips. ‘Shame. Would have been fun.’
Scott wasn’t often taken by surprise, but Cool-Hand Red had managed it with five little words. Why was his singledom a shame? Did she only do married guys?
‘Still could be,’ he said, rallying fast as he figured that simply couldn’t be true. ‘Fun, I mean.’
‘With no money involved?’ Little regretful sigh. ‘I don’t think so.’
What the hell? She not only preferred married men, but they had to pay? This was so not Willa’s scene. It wasn’t his scene either, and he’d thought he was up for most things—except for all that hardcore S&M business. Inflicting pain—and receiving it—thank you but no! Not his cup of tea.
She put down her punch, reached into the small and sparkly emerald-green evening bag draped via a chain over her shoulder, took out an elegant silver card case, flicked it open one-handed and handed him a plain, crisp white business card.
‘“Kate Cleary”,’ he read. And then, ‘Oh…’ Wince. ‘Ouch.’
Another of those throaty laughs. ‘Divorce lawyer. Willa’s, in fact. And she’s not only sitting up on the mortician’s table, she’s leaping off it and twirling across the floor with a dance partner. And I’m very comfortable with that. Now…what’s that other quote about divorce?’ She raised a mischievous eyebrow. ‘Ah, yes. Zsa Zsa Gabor. “He taught me housekeeping; when I divorce I keep the house.”’
He laughed. Delighted, relieved, intrigued—and horny. ‘That explains how Willa got the house—who would dare say no to you?’
‘Lots of people dare—but there can only be one winner. And I like the winner to be me.’
Scott’s inner purr became a growl as his libido kicked up a notch.
‘Scott Knight—architect,’ he said, holding out his hand. ‘And expert inserter of foot into mouth.’
She took his hand in a firm, cool grip. Two mid-level shakes—not wimpy, not crushing. Perfect.
‘Nice to meet you, Scott Knight,’ she said. ‘And you’re more than welcome to roll out the lawyer jokes. Who knows? There may even be one I haven’t heard.’
‘Ouch. Again. I’m going to need stitches.’
She retrieved her punch glass. ‘Well, I have a needle and thread.’ Sipped. ‘And a stapler too, if you prefer it a little…rougher.’
His eyes skimmed her the way hers had him. She was covered from neck to mid-thigh in snug black. Plain, plain, plain—and off-the-chain sexy. Naked arms and legs. High heels in nude. The little green handbag. Her red hair loose and gorgeous. And the lips—good God, the lips.
He felt a little shiver of excitement as he caught her scent. Tuberose. His favourite.
‘You look like a tearer, not a repairer, to me,’ he said, plucking the words more for their innuendo value than anything else. The only important thing was staying near her. He’d talk about knee replacements if that would keep her close.
‘That’s because I am,’ she said. ‘“Ball-tearer” is the complete phrase, I believe.’
‘You’re not scaring me.’
‘What am I doing?’
‘You know what you’re doing, Kate Cleary. You know very well. So let’s cut to the chase. Are you hooked up with anyone? I mean, anyone I couldn’t take out in a Rubik’s cube tournament, obviously.’ He held his breath, waiting for the answer. No, no, no, please.
‘Is that your speciality? The Rubik’s cube?’
‘Well, I’m better with the cube than I am at hand-to-hand combat—although for you I could get a little gladiatorial. Certainly with you I could.’
‘Then how fortunate that I am, indeed, single. So…do you need me to demonstrate my Rubik’s cube abilities?’
