Her Indecent Proposal (The BAD BOY BILLIONAIRES Collection) (6 page)

And although he’d been a playboy all his life, a bad guy in the eyes
of many, he did not take marriage lightly and, whatever it took, he was
determined to make this work…even if it meant taking it slow, a lot slower than
he was used to.

They spent the next twenty minutes strolling along the sand, saying
little, but learning to relax in each other’s company.  At least that was what
Sloane hoped and, from what he could see, his plan was working.  Melanie did
not let go of his hand the entire time and in her grasp he could feel the
easing of her tension and her increasing comfort with him.  When he finally
turned to head back to the villa she did not resist.  Instead, she leaned into
him with a sigh and that was when Sloane knew.  She was ready.

When they got back to the villa he steered her toward the living
room couch.  “Let me get you a drink,” he said.  “White wine?”

“Perfect,” she breathed as she leaned back and closed her eyes.

He flipped on some music and the sounds of Bob Marley’s ‘Turn Your
Lights Down Low’ filled the room.  When he came back with the wine and sat down
beside her, Melanie opened her eyes and smiled.

“Thank you,” she whispered as she took the glass.  And this time
there was no hesitation in her eyes, only longing.  Sloane could see that she
wanted him and that was all he needed to know.

They relaxed into the sofa, sipping wine and listening to the crooning
of the reggae singer but as soon as Melanie’s glass was empty Sloane reached
over and took it from her then deposited both glasses on the coffee table. 
With a gentle hand he reached out and tilted her chin, turning her face up
toward his, and then he lowered his head to taste those soft, sweet lips, the
ones that had been tempting him all evening.

She was so tantalizing, her lips soft and succulent as she yielded
to him.  He pulled her closer and there was no resistance there.  Heartened by
her acquiescence he wrapped an arm around her waist and pulled her onto his
lap, giving himself greater access to her lips, the softness of her cheeks, the
smooth column of her neck.

When he released her lips she moaned and clung to him even as he
feathered kisses down her neck and over her collarbone.  She sighed when he
went lower, and when he skimmed the top of her breast she arched up to meet his
lips.

Thrilled at her response Sloane tilted her back, giving himself
greater access, and when he slid the spaghetti strap off her shoulder to reveal
even more of her breast, she shivered.  But it was not from the cold, not when
the air of the tropical night was so balmy and warm.  No, she’d shivered
because she wanted this, probably just as much as he did.

He hooked his thumb into the other strap and that one went the way
of the first, sliding down her arms to reveal her breasts, soft and full,
covered by the delicate lace of her strapless bra.  She dropped her gaze,
probably struck by shyness, but he did not give her a chance to turn away or
hide herself.  Seizing the moment, he lowered his mouth to her laced-covered
bra and planted a kiss on the creamy skin then he slid over the lace to capture
a taut nipple between his teeth.

Melanie gasped and dug her fingers into his arms.

Sloane took that as license to go on.  He sucked the nipple into his
mouth, lace and all, and teased and nibbled until Melanie let out a long, low
moan.  Then he moved to the other breast and gave it the same treatment,
chuckling deep in his throat as he felt her squirm with want.

Releasing the stiff bud, he lifted his head and looked into her
brown eyes, now cloudy with desire.  “I know exactly what you need,” he said,
his voice a hoarse whisper.

In one fluid movement he rose, lifting her into his arms, and strode
toward the bedroom.  There, he laid her gently on the bed then proceeded to
slide her dress down, revealing inch by delicious inch of her slender body.  As
the dress went lower, the color rose in her cheeks and she closed her eyes
tight.  Sloane smiled to himself.  It was kind of cute, the way she was acting,
like she wasn’t used to having a man admire her beautiful body.

With the black shift now off, he stood back to admire her sleek
beauty, then he reached down to remove her bra.

“I’ll do it,” she said, her voice hoarse - whether from passion or
nerves, Sloane didn’t know, but he chose to believe the former.

He shrugged.  “No problem.”  He turned and in quick time he’d
divested himself of his own clothes.  When he turned back to Melanie she was
already under the covers, her eyes huge as she stared up at him.  He frowned as
he noticed her grip on the bedclothes.  Was it possible that she was scared of
him?

Her gaze left his face and skidded down his body and when it reached
his groin she sucked in her breath and closed her eyes.  Sloane almost laughed
out loud.  What kind of game was she playing?  What, she’d never seen a grown
man naked before?  He lifted the covers and climbed into the king-sized bed
beside her and pulled her into his arms and that was when he realized she was
shaking.

What the…

“Melanie, what’s the matter?”  He stared down at her in confusion
but she refused to open her eyes.  “Are you scared of me?”

She shook her head but still she did not look at him.

“Open your eyes.”  He needed to see her, to understand what was
going on inside her head.  When she still did not open to him his patience grew
thin.  “Look at me, dammit it.”

That got the desired reaction.  Her eyes flew open and in them was
an uncertainty that made him pause.

And made him sit up.  No, it couldn’t be.  “Christ, you’re not a
virgin, are you?” Was that even possible?  A thirty-three year old virgin in
the twenty-first century?

 She shook her head.  “No, I'm not.  I…just haven’t made love in the
last five years.”

Now that caught him by surprise.  A woman as attractive as Melanie?  But
then he understood.  This must feel strange to her, almost like new, making
love to a man who, despite being her husband, was practically a stranger. 
“It’s okay,” he whispered.  “I’ll be gentle.  Just try to relax.”

He reached out to take her into his arms but she flinched and
clutched the sheet even tighter.  He frowned.  There was definitely more to
this than she’d told him.

“Talk to me, Melanie.”  He kept his voice quiet and low, holding his
frustration in.  The last thing he wanted to do was to frighten her even more. 
“What’s going on?”

She gave a soft sigh then bit her lip.  Finally, she spoke. 
“I’ve…always had a problem with sex.”  She gave a nervous chuckle.  “You’re
going to laugh but…it makes me nervous.  I just can’t…relax.”

Sloane did not laugh.  There was absolutely nothing funny about what
was happening right then.  He felt like he’d just swallowed the craggy rock
they’d seen in the water.  This was serious.  “And yet you put yourself in this
situation?  Just to have a baby?”

“I didn’t want to have sex,” she said, her tone defensive.  “I
didn’t even want to get married.  You insisted.”

With a grunt of disgust he got out of the bed and walked out of the
room.  A cold sliver slid into his heart and he clenched his fists to hold in a
burgeoning anger.  It was true.  He was the one who had insisted on both those
conditions.  But, for her part, she could have put all her cards on the
table…before they walked down the aisle.  And with a healthy sex drive like the
one he had, he knew he was in big trouble.

What the hell had he gotten himself into?

CHAPTER EIGHT

With five bedrooms in the villa Sloane had no trouble finding a
place to sleep.  At first, Melanie had been relieved when he stalked out of the
master bedroom and then never came back.  At least he wouldn’t have her up all
night, making her explain the bombshell she’d dropped.

So she hated sex.  So what?  Lots of women did.

But then when she’d stop pouting and bristling from having to defend
herself she decided to be a bit more honest, if not with Sloane, at least with
herself.  What she really hated – or rather, feared – was her own performance
in bed because so far it had been nothing but disastrous.  And she had two
failed relationships to prove it.

It was over an hour before Melanie’s nerves calmed enough for her to
drift off but it was a restless sleep and when the day dawned she groaned,
still tired and groggy.  And what made it worse, she would now have to face
Sloane.

Even though it was only seven, she dragged herself out of bed and
headed for the shower.  There was no use putting off the inevitable.  It would
be so much easier to hide out in bed all morning but she wouldn’t do it. 
Today, she would meet her monster head on.

To Melanie’s surprise, when she went out into the living room Sloane
was already there.  She paused in her tracks, momentarily unsure of what to do,
what to say.

He spoke first.  “Couldn’t sleep?”

Cautiously, she stared back at him, but when she could detect no
anger she gave him a rueful smile.  “I’m afraid not.”

He slid his hands into the pockets of his khaki slacks and grunted. 
“Me neither.”  Then his gray eyes grew thoughtful as he stared back at her. 
“We need to talk,” he said, his voice quiet.  “Let’s walk down to the beach.”

Melanie nodded.  She owed him that much.

The air was fresh and cool as they walked along the pathway, and the
moisture from the grass dampened her sandaled feet.  She drew in a deep breath,
seeking strength for what was to come, and was rewarded with the fragrance of
the flowers as they lifted their dewy heads to greet the morning sunshine.

It was calming, this rich tropical scenery that surrounded them, so
Melanie did not object when Sloane took her hand and led her to the bamboo
bench that looked out onto the shimmering blue water of the Caribbean Sea.

For a while they sat in silence, both of them just staring out at
the ocean, watching the gentle waves rolling in to the sparkling white sand,
listening to the early birds singing in the nearby trees.

“Do you want out, Melanie?  Do you want to annul the marriage?”

Startled by his questions, Melanie tore her gaze away from the
scenery and stared at Sloane.  “I…no…I don’t.”

And she meant it.  She looked directly into those intense gray eyes
and she did not flinch because she knew that she wanted to be here with him. 
She wanted to give this her all.  And, regardless of her fears, she wanted to
get to know him in every sense of the word.

His brows fell as he looked at her intently.  “Are you sure?  Last
night you said the only reason you were in my bed was because I insisted.  I
don’t want to force you to do anything you don’t want to do.”

“I…”  How could she deny it?  Essentially, that was what she’d said,
and it must have been a huge blow to his ego.  Sloane was a man who was used to
women offering themselves to him and here, he’d gone and married one who pretty
much told him she didn’t want him.

“You need to be sure,” Sloane continued, his eyes never leaving her
face, “because if you decide to stay I will make love to you.  And often.”

That sent a ripple up her spine and that ripple, she was sure, had
nothing to do with fear.  She dropped her eyes, suddenly wary about what he
might see there.  Because, deep down, she wanted him.

And how could she explain that, when she’d rejected him the night
before?  She couldn’t even explain it to herself.

“I’m sure,” she whispered, as she stared down at her tightly clasped
hands.  “I want to stay.”

At first Sloane didn’t answer.  He continued to stare at her in
silence.  She could feel his eyes burning into her as she kept her head bowed. 
Finally, he turned away and sighed.  “So where do we go from here?” The
frustration was clear in his voice.

It was only then that she lifted her face to him.  He did not turn
to her but continued to stare out at the ocean, giving her the chance to get a
good look at his face, so still and drawn, the morning shadow around his chin
telling her that he hadn’t bothered to shave.

She swallowed.  “Sloane, I want another chance.  I can do it.”

He looked at her then, his eyes skeptical, his lips tight.  It was
obvious he didn’t believe her.

“Let me prove it to you,” she said, her voice a lot firmer than she
really felt.  “Tonight.”

His face did not soften but his eyes did not leave hers.  He
nodded.  “Tonight.”

That was all he said but Melanie knew he would expect her to be true
to her word.

Inwardly, she was quaking.  She just hoped she would have the
courage to deliver.

***

That evening Melanie drank three glasses of wine, which was a record
for her, but she needed it.

She and Sloane had stayed at the villa, choosing to dine on the
patio and enjoy a meal prepared by their private staff, rather than head over
to the restaurant.  The food was great – spicy pumpkin soup to start, then
curried goat with rice, fried plantains and boiled yam followed by sweet potato
pudding for dessert.  Melanie loved the local cuisine and she knew she’d miss
it when it was time to leave the island.