The Millionaire's Proposal by Janelle Denison Read Free Book Online Page B

her realize that for as much as he’d gained wealth and confidence, some things hadn’t changed at all.
    “It will be,” she told him, and drew his mouth down to hers as he pushed deep inside her, filling her, claiming her.
    The tight fit of them together stole her breath, made her desperate for more of him. She wrapped her legs around his waist as his slow, deep thrusts gradually quickened, and cried out his name as they gave themselves over to the most seductive, exquisite pleasure.
    And not once during the long, wonderful night did she tell him to stop.

    Bam, bam, bam.
    The pounding sound reverberating in Grace’s mind grew louder, the voice calling her name more gruff and insistent. Ignoring the annoying noise, Grace snuggled closer to the warm, hard body curled against her from behind and willed the intruder away. Strong, male limbs entwined around her legs, and a corded arm banded possessively around her naked waist.
    A sleepy smile curved her mouth. Ford . He was still there, testimony to the fact that their night together hadn’t been a fabulous, glorious dream. Floating somewhere between slumber and consciousness, she had the fleeting thought that maybe this time around things could be different for them. Maybe this time, they could find a way to be happy together.
    The pounding continued. She frowned, and the man behind her stirred. A broad hand caressed her hip, and he buried his face in the crook of her neck. His breath was sleep-roughened when he murmured into her ear, “Grace, honey, someone is at your door.”
    Grace’s eyes popped open at the same time her heart sped into overdrive. Surely Ford was mistaken . . . no, sure enough, that obnoxious sound was coming from the front of her house.
    Untangling herself from him and the covers, she stumbled out of bed, grabbed her robe from the connecting bathroom, and thrust her hands inside the sleeves, her disoriented mind whirring with a hundred thoughts. Mainly, who in the world could be here?
    One glance at her reflection in the bathroom mirror made her cringe—she glowed, no doubt, but she looked like a tousled mess! Her hair tumbled around her face and shoulders in a wild disarray, her lips looked pink and swollen from Ford’s ardent kisses, and there was even a red chafe mark on her neck from his stubble. Since the person pummeling her front door sounded extremely persistent, not to mention impatient, she had no time to make herself presentable.
    She passed through the bedroom, her gaze pausing briefly on the gorgeous man sprawled on his back on her bed. The covers swathed around his hips, leaving his chest gloriously bare. A sexy, lazy smile canted the corners of his mouth.
    Ignoring the renewed awareness tickling her belly, she tightened the sash of her robe. “Stay in here,” she ordered in a hushed voice.
    “Don’t worry, Grace,” he murmured huskily. “I’ll be right here when you get back.”
    The invitation in his hazy violet eyes was clear, and her breasts tightened at the thought of spending a lazy Sunday morning in bed with Ford—just as soon as she got rid of her unexpected visitor.
    The incessant knocking spurred her into action. Exiting the bedroom, she closed the door behind her, which put her right in the living room. “I’ll be right there,” she called in an attempt to inform the other person she was on her way.
    Seeing Ford’s suit jacket on her sofa, she stuffed the masculine article of clothing into the coat closet. With her still sleepy head struggling for wide-awake cognizance, she unlocked her front door, opened it . . . and came fully alert when she encountered her father standing on her porch, his face red with outrage.
    “Dad,” she said in a voice that was so tight it squeaked. “What are you doing here?”
    He didn’t answer her question, but barged past her and into her cottage without an invitation. Her father wasn’t a tall man, but what he lacked in height he more than made up for in a physically