Rafael's Convenient Proposal

Rafael's Convenient Proposal
Rebecca Winters

“Marriage was my daughter’s suggestion to this untenable situation,” Rafael said. His expression looked like thunder.

Mallory felt the point of that fiery dart penetrate her soul. But it meant Apolonia had found a way around her father’s objections and that salient truth flooded Mallory with happiness.

“You’ll have to pretend to be my wife in public and live in my suite so the staff don’t talk,” Rafael ground out.

“Unlike a wife, I plan to live my own life taking care of your daughter. I intend to let you live yours.”

Rafael tossed his head back. The man had been caught in a snare of his daughter’s making and he didn’t like it one bit.

“So when do you want our wedding to take place?”

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Rafael’s Convenient Proposal

Rebecca Winters

CONTENTS

CHAPTER ONE

CHAPTER TWO

CHAPTER THREE

CHAPTER FOUR

CHAPTER FIVE

CHAPTER SIX

CHAPTER SEVEN

CHAPTER EIGHT

CHAPTER NINE

CHAPTER TEN

CHAPTER ONE

“FOR those of you just joining the Jack Hendley Friday Night Live show broadcasting from New York, we have the gorgeous Ms. Mallory Ellis in studio with us this evening.”

The band played a little theme music and the audience clapped.

“If you have eyes in your head, you could be forgiven for thinking she’s a world-class supermodel or top box office movie star, but you’d be dead wrong. At twenty-nine years of age, Ms. Ellis has the distinction of being one of the youngest female executives ever featured in Financial Wizards of Wall Street.

“A top honors graduate in corporate law from Yale University, Ms. Ellis was snapped up by Windemere Cosmetics, a struggling Los Angeles based firm. In three short years under her guidance, the company not only has a new name, ‘Lady Windemere Cosmetics,’ it has also gone global. So far the profits keep rising which is good news for the employees who now own stock in the company.

“According to the magazine article, her undisputed genius lies in profit and loss savvy, but tonight we’re hoping she’ll reveal some of the secrets of her phenomenal success story.”

From far away, the audience couldn’t tell the TV host’s eyes glittered as he studied her. “According to a source close to you, you’re a woman who knows what women want, and you put women with the right credentials in charge. Did you always plan to be a big female tycoon?”

There was an edge to his question rather than a teasing tone. She’d seen him in action before. Jack Hendley was a male chauvinist who had fixed ideas about a woman’s place in life. That was all right with Mallory. A lot of insecure men had the same problem.

Coming on this show was the last thing she’d wanted to do. But when Liz Graffman, the seventy-year-old widow who owned Lady Windemere Cosmetics, received a call from the television network asking that its vice president fly to New York and be on the Jack Hendley show, Mallory couldn’t say no to Liz’s plea.

Lady Windemere Cosmetics would get the kind of exposure on his show you couldn’t buy at any price.

Over the last thirty-six months, Mallory’s relationship with Liz had become like that of a favorite great-aunt and niece. Surely Mallory could stand a half hour of being patronized by one of television’s longstanding night talk show hosts.

“A tycoon by definition implies someone who owns a company or many companies. I only work for one,” she corrected him with a friendly smile. He didn’t smile back which was no surprise since he could sense she was refusing to play ball with him.

“However to answer your question, when I was old enough to think about the world, there was only one thing that drove me; my insatiable love for surfing.”

His eyes flared because he hadn’t been expecting that response. “Where did you grow up?”

“Huntington Beach, California.”

“That explains it. Were you a good surfer?”

“I won a few western regional championships at Redondo Beach and Malibu.”

Several wolf whistles resounded along with the clapping from the listening audience.

“At this juncture I’m sure every eligible male watching would like to know if there’s a future Lord Windemere waiting in the wings somewhere.”

The man was so predictable she had to stifle a moan before she said, “No.”

“Does that mean—”