The Millionaire's Proposal Read Free Page A

nestled in a dozen elegant white roses, she plucked it out of the tangle of baby’s breath and fern, and withdrew the florist card inside. I enjoyed bumping into you today, and would like to see you again. How about dinner tonight? Whitaker Country Club. 7 PM.
    The note wasn’t signed, but there was no mistaking the identity of the mystery person—her gorgeous stranger. Grace’s pulse thrummed in anticipation at the thought of accepting his dinner invitation, and was quickly plagued by uncertainty. For as much as she was attracted to him, she knew nothing about the man except that he owned a smile that made her want to follow him anywhere, and breath-taking dimples that made her weak-kneed. Captivating charm and charisma hardly qualified as trustworthy . . . though he had seemed very respectable and pleasant.
    “So, are you going to meet him for dinner?”
    Grace jumped at the sound of Darcy’s voice from just behind her, as she read the note over Grace’s shoulder. Turning, she stuffed the card back into the envelope. “I don’t even know the man! He’s someone I literally bumped into while I was going to the bank.”
    “So what,” Darcy said with a nonchalant shrug and a twinkle in her eye. “There comes a time in every woman’s life when she ought to live a little on the edge.”
    Grace rolled her eyes at that, but oh, how she was tempted! For too long she’d been straight-laced and conservative in her choice of men, trying to gain her father’s forgiveness for getting involved with the one boy the entire town had labeled as “no good white trash” and “nothing but trouble”.
    She bit her bottom lip, struggling with what she knew she should do, and what she wanted to do. “I don’t know . . .”
    Darcy playfully flicked the end of Grace’s French braid. “Let down that hair of yours for once and do something spontaneous,” she urged. “You’ll be in a public place, surrounded by people you’ve known all your life. If you don’t feel comfortable with him you can always call it an early night. And if the chemistry is really good between the two of you, you can always call it an early night.” She followed up that double entendre with a sassy wink.
    Grace laughed and shook her head. She’d never been promiscuous in her life, and she didn’t intend to start now—no matter how sexy the man. “You’re outrageous.”
    “And you desperately need a night out, without your father as your date.”
    Grace heard the wry humor in Darcy’s voice, but knew her friend was being much more serious than she let on. Though she enjoyed having dinner with her father—she hated the thought of him living alone and eating by himself—she had to admit that he was the only man in her life as of late, which was pretty pathetic as far as her own love life was concerned. But lately, even her father had been encouraging her to “get out and date more often”.
    She was certain her father hadn’t meant a stranger, but had more in mind one of the respectable, eligible bachelors in town—none of which appealed to Grace.
    Taking a deep breath filled with the sensual, delicious scent of roses filling her office, Grace made the spontaneous decision to do something for herself, without her father’s approval, and without worrying about what other people might think.
    She turned to Darcy with a smile that wiped away any lingering uncertainties. “I’m going to meet my mystery man and find out exactly who he is.”
    “Great!” Darcy’s enthusiasm was infectious. “Now we just need to find something for you to wear other than one of your conservative dresses or button-up business suits.”
    Before Grace could take offense to that, Darcy eyed her with a sly smile of a woman confident in her ability in attracting men. “I saw the perfect dress for you in the window of Shalimar’s. I’m going to call Andrea right now and let her know that we’ll be there as soon as we close up shop for the day.”
    As Darcy