Fortune's Proposal by Allison Leigh Read Free Book Online Page A

doorknob and quietly turned it. “Happy New Year, Dee.”
    Deanna’s smile felt almost as shaky as her knees.
    She knew it was best if he left for a little while, but a strong part of her wanted to ask him not to.
    And that fact alone was reason enough to need some distance from her boss-slash-fiancé, even if it were only for a few minutes. So she kept the words to herself. “Happy New Year, Drew.”
    And then he was stepping out of the room, closing the door silently behind him.
    Once he was gone, Deanna’s smile died and she drew in a deep breath.
    Without his intoxicating presence, the room felt as spacious as her common sense told her it actually was. It was only when she was closed in with him that it seemed as if the walls were only two inches from that big…wide…bed.
    She caught her reflection in the oversize mirror. “This is what you get for making rash decisions,” she whispered to herself.
    The only response she got was her own glazed-looking expression staring back at her.
    The silence of the house seemed to tick like the hands of a clock, and she grabbed her suitcase, hefting it onto the foot of the bed. Drew had given her a reprieve of sorts and she knew she’d better darn well use it wisely. The last thing she wanted was for him to come back and find her still standing around like some ninny who was afraid to climb into bed for what was left of a night’s sleep.
    She unfastened the stiff latches and flipped open the case, taking out the dress that she’d added on top of her other clothing. When they’d stopped at her apartmenton the way to the airport, she’d done her level best to discourage Drew from accompanying her inside. But the man simply hadn’t taken the hint and she hadn’t exactly known how to tell him flat-out to stay in the car when she couldn’t even come up with a plausible excuse.
    So he’d walked up the iron-and-cement flight of stairs to her door and had braced herself for his comments when she’d let them in.
    But all he’d done was silently glance over the stacks of shipping boxes that were crammed into her dining room, covering the floor and the small table and even the end of the couch. Boxes containing every item imaginable from small travel-size baby-food mills to closet organizers and exercise equipment that she’d taken from her mother’s home to send back to the companies from which Gigi had ordered them.
    He hadn’t gaped. He hadn’t even raised his eyebrows.
    She’d been so grateful for that that she hadn’t even thought to protest when he’d followed her down the short hallway to stand in the doorway of her bedroom while she’d opened her ancient suitcase that had already been packed for her spa weekend.
    He’d told her that they would be in Texas for four days—through the weekend, and returning to San Diego on Wednesday. That didn’t necessitate a lot of clothing, fortunately, because she didn’t have much in her wardrobe that wasn’t either kick-around-the house casual, or wear-to-work professional. She had sweats that she wore to the gym where she coached girls’ volleyball in exchange for her membership fee, and she had jeans and shorts and suits.
    But there wasn’t much call for her to own dresses suitable for an afternoon wedding, and when she’d scootedthrough her assortment of hangers for the second time without finding anything she could imagine wearing, she’d looked over her shoulder at him and told him that he would be better off going to Texas alone. He could announce their engagement without her being there, couldn’t he?
    But he’d just given her that Drew look, the one that saw right through her excuses, and told her to pack one of her suits and to stop worrying about it.
    â€œI’m not wearing something like this to a wedding.” She’d shrugged out of her blazer and shook it at him. “This