Home > His Secretary: Undone (A Novel Deception #1)(57)

His Secretary: Undone (A Novel Deception #1)(57)
Author: Melanie Marchande

"Wasn't storming when I left," I tell her, stripping off my shirt. With the AC blasting, I'm starting to shiver. "I had to get something. Can you turn the temperature up a little?"

"You need to get out of those clothes," she tells me, going to the thermostat. "You'll get a cold."

"You can't catch a cold from being cold." I roll my eyes while I unzip my pants. "What does it look like I'm doing?"

"Get in the shower," she says. "Right now. And for your information, I once caught a cold from being cold. It does happen."

"Yes ma'am." Amazingly enough, I don't argue with her, although I have to do something first. I dig the ring out of my pocket before I toss my pants aside. This isn't quite how I pictured it - proposing to her in my underwear - but it'll have to do. I didn't walk back in the rain like a God damn regency romance hero so I could wait for one minute longer than necessary.

I grab her hand and pull her away from the dial she's still fiddling with. "Come here, Megs."

"Don't call me that." She's smiling. "Seriously, you need to get -"

Her face freezes, mid-sentence. She stares at me in complete shock, her eyes widening, and then watering slightly. I feel a rush of triumph first, because this girl is not exactly what you'd call a romantic. But at the sight of me on one knee…

"Adrian," she whispers, numbly. Her face is pale beneath the hint of sunburn on her cheeks.

"Shhh," I murmur, pressing my lips to the back of her hand. "Unless the answer's going to be no. Then you can go ahead and save me the humiliation right now."

Her free hand flies to her mouth, and the tears start to trickle. Oh, for God's sake. I was going to do some kind of speech, but I can't stand to prolong this any further. Besides, my throat feels tight for some reason. Maybe I am coming down with a cold.

"Marry me, Meg?" That's all I've got, now that it comes down to it. "I don't mean sometime in the vague future. I mean, here. Now. Not right now, obviously. But before we go home." I kiss the backs of her fingers. My eyes are stinging a little and my heart feels like it's trying to escape my ribcage. "I can't stand the thought of setting foot on the mainland again without you as my wife."

Before I can react, she tumbles down to her knees, throwing her arms around my neck. "Oh, my God," she whispers. "I mean, I hoped you would but I didn't really think…"

"Is that a yes?" I ask, teasingly. But I want to hear her say it.

"Yes, Adrian. Yes. Of course. Yes." She kisses my neck. "Is that what you went out for?"

She pulls away, just enough to see my face. I nod, and pick up her left hand. The ring slides on perfectly, and she watches, captivated.

"Where the hell do you buy an engagement ring at this hour?" she whispers, turning her hand so the diamond catches the light.

I just smile at her. "I've got my ways."

"It's beautiful," she says, a little breathlessly. "And…vintage." Her eyes narrow slightly. "Please tell me you didn't steal this from some sweet grandmother."

Her face is streaked with happy tears, but she's still my Meghan.

"I found a place," I tell her. "Got lucky. The cab driver's brother owned a store. He opened up for me. Natural charisma. The money probably helps, too."

She can see in my face that I'm hiding something, which naturally means she won't rest until she ferrets it out. "What kind of store?"

I'm fucked. "A consignment shop." Technically not a lie. It's probably a service they offer.

The corner of her mouth twitches. "Is this the kind of consignment shop that might get its own reality series on A&E?"

I want to make a joke, but there's no point in prolonging this any further. "Maybe."

"Maybe," she echoes, grinning down at her finger. "You're a fucking marvel, Ryn." Her eyes shine as she looks back up at me. "Was it my ass in that bikini?"

"It's your ass every day, in everything," I tell her, fervently. "But mostly the bikini, yes."

She laughs, wrapping her arms around me again. "I knew it. You just had that look on your face, like you were ready to fall down and worship."

"I hope you're not making fun of me. I take my devotion to your ass very seriously."

Meg pulls back, mischief glinting in her eyes. "Oh, do you?"

"Yes." I kiss her, deeply, and she sighs when I pull away. "Are you questioning my commitment?"

"Of course not," she breathes, without conviction. "Everyone worships in their own way, I suppose."

Fuck. Me.

I just proposed to this woman, and she's teasing me with the promise of debauchery. I knew I made the right choice.

"Are you implying I've neglected something?" I let my hands drift down her body and cup the feature we've been discussing. "Because you know, I'm an old-fashioned guy. I like to save something for the honeymoon."

She giggles, pressing her body against me. "So, just wondering - if we get married while we're here, does the rest of this vacation become a honeymoon? By default?"

I groan into her hair. "You know, I was just joking, but now I know you want it so badly, I'm inclined to make you wait."

"You're a very bad man," she says, pulling back to stroke my hair and smile at me. "But this is a very beautiful ring, and you walked through a monsoon to bring it to me. So I forgive you."

"Really?" I drag my mind out of the gutter, with a serious effort. "You don't mind that the previous owner probably sold it to pay for her lawyer after she caught her husband with six prostitutes?"

She whistles softly. "Six! That's a lot of prostitutes."

"Well, you know." I shrug. "Bulk discount. Not that I'd know anything about that."

"Right." She grins, biting her lower lip, and I lose a little more of my resolve. "Why would you need a discount? That's not classy."

"You know, once again, I'd like to emphasize that I have never paid for sex. Just for the record."

Meg's laughing at me. "Right. Of course." The love that shines in her eyes, though - that softens things a bit.

Well - some things. Not others. Decidedly not others.

"Now will you please get into a hot shower?" she asks, softly.

"I promise I'm not cold anymore." Just to drive the point home, I tilt my hips slightly towards her, sliding my stiff cock against her stomach. "But if it'll make you happy - naturally, I will."

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