The Millionaire's Unexpected Proposal (Entangled Indulgence)

One night together will change his life forever…

Camilla Winthrop is about to do something she’s never done in her life—she’s about to ask a man to marry her. Not just any man. She hasn’t seen Sam Flanagan in almost five years, after he coldly walked away from a passionate and intense two-week affair. Now Camilla is widowed and desperate…and marrying Sam is the only way she can protect their son.

The son he never knew about.

A hugely successful attorney in Miami, Sam certainly never expected to see the stunning Camilla come through his door again. Nor can he ignore the desire heating his blood. But after she tells him her situation, Sam is furious. He’ll marry her, but under his terms. And he’ll take everything, including Camilla in his bed…unless she can find a way to thaw the millionaire’s icy heart once more.

This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, living or dead, is coincidental.

Copyright © 2015 by Phyllis J. Towzey. All rights reserved, including the right to reproduce, distribute, or transmit in any form or by any means. For information regarding subsidiary rights, please contact the Publisher.

Entangled Publishing, LLC

2614 South Timberline Road

Suite 109

Fort Collins, CO 80525

Visit our website at
www.entangledpublishing.com
.

Indulgence is an imprint of Entangled Publishing, LLC.

Edited by Wendy Chen

Cover design by Liz Pelletier

Photography by iStock

ISBN 978-1-63375-239-9

Manufactured in the United States of America

First Edition March 2015

To Dave, Tom and Megan, for believing in my dream.

Prologue

Sam Flanagan was on top of the world. Two weeks ago he’d won his biggest jury trial ever, defending a multimillion-dollar product liability case.

Five days after the jury returned its verdict for the defense, he cashed his bonus check and turned in his resignation. Now he was spending three glorious weeks in Las Vegas. When he returned, the new office in one of Miami’s high-rises would be decorated, furnished, and staffed, and the law firm of Flanagan, Berrington & Perez would officially open its doors for business.

But for now, Sam deserved to cut loose and have a little fun.

He took the elevator from his luxury suite to the lobby of the casino hotel and walked into the lounge. He took one quick look at the cool blonde seated alone at the bar and complimented himself on making the right decision.

The answer to how he was going to spend his first evening in Vegas was sitting right there at the bar. Short skirt, long legs, silky sleeveless blouse, and an air of class about her that made a man look twice and wonder if he could get lucky. And know that it would be well worth the effort.

She glanced around the room, her classically beautiful face expectant, not as if she were waiting for someone in particular but rather as if she were waiting for something interesting to happen. Her hair was cut in a sleek style just past her chin. She reached up and tucked a few strands behind her ear, revealing the long and lovely line of her neck, before she turned back to her drink and said something to the bartender.

Sam slid onto the barstool next to her. He ordered a beer, turned to her, and smiled.

“I’m wondering if you could help me out?”

She angled her chin toward him and raised an eyebrow, her expression cool. She had to be wearing contacts. No one’s eyes were that blue.

“I’m sorry, have we met?” Her voice was as cool as her demeanor, and it made him want her more.

“Sam Flanagan,” he said, and reached out his hand.

She hesitated, then put her hand in his. Her grip was firm but her skin was soft. He held her hand a second longer than necessary, then released it.

“May I ask your name?”

She hesitated again, then said, “Camilla.”

“Just Camilla?”

“I don’t give my last name to men I meet in bars. Not even in Vegas.”

Maybe that explained the trace of nerves he was sensing. He prided himself on being able to read people, and this was a woman who, despite her cool exterior, had just a hint of strain beneath the surface. Instead of flashing warning signals, it intrigued him.

He put some money on the bar, waved away the glass, and took a long drink from the icy cold bottle.

“Well, you know what they say about Vegas.”

“What happens here stays here?” she asked, and he nodded.

“I’m counting on it,” she said.

Now that was interesting. Was she running away from something? And he questioned again why such a sophisticated and beautiful woman was alone in a hotel bar. She definitely had his interest now. He leaned in a little closer.

“So will you help me?”

She shifted on the stool, crossing those long, elegant legs. When she raised her gaze to meet his, he was struck again by the beauty of her electric blue eyes. And the sudden heat that seemed to fill the small space between them. He knew she felt it too. And was almost as good as him at masking her reaction.

“What exactly is your problem?” Her voice was still cool, but she broke eye contact and reached for her wineglass, running her fingers down the stem for a moment before lifting it slowly to her lips.

“My friends have both canceled. Which means I’ll be eating dinner alone.”

“You don’t like your own company?”

He extended his hands, palms up. “It’s just that they always give a lone diner the worst table.”

She looked him over. “I’m sure you’ve never been put at a bad table in your life.”

You’d be surprised
, he thought, but his answer was smooth to his own ears. “Wouldn’t it be terrible if I started tonight? Especially when I was supposed to be celebrating.” He gave her his best “innocence tinged with sadness” look.

“Okay, I’ll bite. What are you celebrating?”

“Fresh starts.”

That seemed to get her attention.

“Really.” She gave him a look that reminded him of 1940s movie stars, sultry and icy at the same time. She had a restrained sensuality Sam couldn’t wait to unleash.

“Really. And what are you doing here, alone?”

“Actually, I’m on the run.”

He glanced around the room. “Should I get my gun?”

“Do you have one?”

“No.” He leaned closer. “What are you running from?”

She laughed. “At the moment, the spa where I’ve spent the last three days.”

“So an army of spa workers is searching the Strip for you?”

Her eyes narrowed. “How do I know you aren’t a deranged killer? You could be wondering how much time you have.”

He pulled out his wallet and extracted his driver’s license and a newly printed business card, pausing to write
Camilla is safe with me
and signing his name and the date on the back of the card before setting them both on the table in front of her. She picked them up, read the back of the card and smiled, then handed him back his license.

“Looks legit. What happens if I call the number on the card?”

“The answering service will tell you we open for business in three weeks.”

“Good thing I don’t have a pressing need for legal services.”

She tapped the business card against the smooth wood on the surface of the bar.

“I gave my treatment schedule to a willing victim. No one will even know I’m gone.” She grinned. “Slap enough mud and seaweed on naked female bodies, and it’s pretty hard to tell any of us apart.”

He held his finger up so she’d pause. “Sorry, just needed a moment to process that image.”

She laughed, the sound bubbling out of her, sweet and fresh, and suddenly she looked like a girl barely out of her teens. He’d pegged her in her midtwenties, close to his age, when he’d first spotted her at the bar. Now he wasn’t so sure.

Time to close the deal. “You’re alone. I’m alone. We could have dinner at two separate tables. Pitied by waiters. Or we could enjoy the evening together. It’s as simple as that.”

“How do you know I’m not waiting for someone?”

“Maybe you were waiting for me.”

She laughed and shook her head. “That’s a really bad line.”

“Have dinner with me and I promise to do better.”

He could almost see her mind working, considering. Could read in her eyes that she was weakening, the same way he could always read a jury.

“It’s just dinner,” he prompted.

“I’m not leaving the hotel with you,” she said, and he knew he had her. It was only a matter of time until she was in his suite.

“We’ll have dinner right here at the hotel,” he assured her.

He took her hand to help her off the barstool, then rested his palm lightly for a moment on the smooth silk on the back of her shoulder as he guided her out of the lounge and toward the nearby restaurant. Las Vegas was a town that was built on luck. And Sam was feeling lucky.