Melting the Millionaire's Heart Read Free Page A

mother’s maiden name.
    She laughed. “You’re kidding, right? RJ Reynolds? Like the tobacco company?”
    Oops. Why hadn’t he thought that through? He didn’t lie often enough to be good at it. “Ha, I guess so.”
    A gust of wind buffeted the car and Kayla braced herself with a hand on the car door.
    “Don’t worry. We’re almost at my place.” His parents’ place, actually, but he wouldn’t fill her in on that little detail. Given the weather and the state of emergency, better to spend the night there than try to soldier on all the way to his estate. Lucky for him, his parents and brother were spending the holidays in the Grand Caymans, so their restored nineteenth-century farmhouse stood empty, and he had a spare key. He could see the light shining from the front window. The high-end security system he’d installed in his parents’ home had turned the lights on at twilight, right on schedule.
    He’d thought about joining them in the Caymans, but he’d been on the road for so long, he’d wanted to sleep in his own bed instead. Plus, he’d been emailing and calling Dr. Dunne discussing a possible donation to Horizons for some time, and a holiday at home would give him the opportunity to meet the staffers and do some in-person research. He stole a quick glance at Kayla’s knees, clad only in thin tights above the black leather of her spiky boots.
    Hands-on research. He cleared his throat.
    “The driveway is narrow and hasn’t been plowed. If I drive any further, I’ll get stuck. I’ll park on the road and we’ll walk from here. You think you can make it dressed like that?”
    “Sure.”
    The little plaid skirt she wore reminded him of an old-style Catholic school girl uniform, but Kayla was no schoolgirl. She was a gorgeous woman, with a sweet face, dark eye makeup running a bit from the wet weather, and softly curling strawberry blond hair peeping out from under a colorful knit cap. And her legs—God, her legs. He swallowed as he imagined flipping up the hem of the skirt and smoothing his fingers up her thighs.
    He gripped the steering wheel. Enough with the ogling. In conditions like this, the road demanded his full attention. He had more important things to do than spin cheap fantasies about a girl he’d just met. At least, he thought he did. He couldn’t remember what those things were right now because he couldn’t get past a vision of her leather-clad legs wrapped around his hips, but surely there was something.
    He parked on the shoulder and opened his door, shoving hard to clear it over the drifting snow. Kayla couldn’t open her door, so he went to help her.
    “Your feet warm in those boots?” He didn’t let his gaze travel to them again. They were bad for his concentration. He didn’t think he’d be able to put one foot in front of the other in this storm if he let himself look again.
    “I wouldn’t say warm, no. They’re soaking wet. I picked these boots more for looks than for warmth.”
    “They look great.” He gave in despite himself and snuck another peek. The leather molded beautifully to her strong calves. He pulled his gaze away before his casual glance could turn into a full-fledged leer.
    “Thanks. I have to say, though, I’m wishing I’d chosen something a little more practical. Something two inches thick, waterproof, and lined,” she said with a rueful expression.
    “I understand the sentiment, but there’s nothing hot about waterproofing.”
    The flirt escaped him without much thought. He wondered if she’d freeze up on him again, give him the “I’m trying to remember if I’ve ever seen you on America’s Most Wanted ” look she’d shot him once or twice, but she only laughed.
    “Nothing hot about frostbite either.”
    “I can’t argue with that.”
    He waited a beat, trying to gauge her mood. What the hell, why not go for it?
    “In a cheesy movie on the Lifetime network, this is when I’d pick you up and carry you over the snow.”
    Her brows