for hours. His dark wavy hair made her long to run her fingers through it, while his startling azure-blue eyes seemed to see all. He kept staring at her as though he expected her to respond. Perhaps she hadn’t heard him correctly.
“I’m sorry. What did you say?”
His dark brows drew together as his forehead wrinkled. “I...asked if you’d marry me.”
He really had proposed. This stranger wanted to marry her? To say she was caught off guard was akin to saying the Hope diamond was just another trinket.
For just the briefest moment, she imagined what it’d be like if he was serious. Until now, no one had spoken those words to her. On those occasional Saturday nights when she was home alone, she wondered if she’d ever fall in love. But she wasn’t desperate enough to fall for the charming words of a stranger—however sexy he may be.
Besides, the last thing she wanted was to be tied down—not now when she’d just embarked on an adventure to find her extended family. She had other priorities and love wasn’t one of them. It wasn’t even on her lengthy to-do list.
She studied the serious expression on the man’s face. He certainly didn’t seem to be making light of his proposal. So then why had he proposed marriage to a total stranger? Was he delusional? Or had he made some sort of ridiculous wager with his buddies?
“Are you feeling all right, sir?” Her gaze panned the room again, this time a bit more slowly, looking for an open liquor bottle or a hidden camera. Anything to explain his odd behavior.
“I...I’m not exactly handling this well.” He rubbed a hand over his clean-shaven jaw. “I must admit that I’ve never proposed to anyone before.”
“Is this some sort of bet? A joke?”
His face turned gravely serious. “Certainly not. This is a serious business proposition. One that could benefit you handsomely.”
Which was it? A marriage proposal? Or a business proposition? Kyra’s mouth opened but nothing came out. Perhaps it was for the best. The man must have started drinking early that day even though she couldn’t find any signs of it. The best thing she could do was beat a hasty retreat. She took a step back.
“Don’t look so scared. I’m really not that bad.” He sent her a lazy smile that made her stomach quiver. “I’m usually so much better at these things. Give me a moment to explain.”
“I have work to do.” She’d heard about rich people having weird tendencies. She kept a firm eye on him as she took another step back. “I...I’ll stop back later and...um, freshen up your room.”
“Please, don’t go.” He took a few quick steps toward her.
She held up a hand to stop him. “Don’t come any closer or I’ll scream.”
“Relax. I won’t hurt you. I promise.” He rubbed the back of his neck. “I’m sorry. I’m really making a mess of things. I guess I should be relieved this isn’t a real proposal.”
She eyed him up to see if at last he was being on the level. The guilty puppy look on his face was so cute and tugged at her sympathies. He must be in a real bind to suggest something so preposterous. “Apology accepted. Now I really should get back to work.”
“Aren’t you at least curious about my proposal?”
Of course she was. Who wouldn’t be? She studied the man a little more, noticing how the top couple of buttons on his slate blue button-down shirt were undone. It gave her the slightest hint of his muscular chest. She swallowed hard. To keep from staring, she diverted her gaze. On his arm, she spotted a fancy wristwatch. She wouldn’t be surprised to find it was a Rolex.
He looked every inch a successful businessman right down to his freshly polished shoes. A man who was used to getting what he wanted. A man who made calculated decisions. And somehow he’d decided she would do for his plan. Interesting.
“Yes, I’m curious.” She crossed her arms to keep from fidgeting. What would it hurt to hear him out? “Go ahead. I’m listening.”
“Wouldn’t you rather come inside and have a seat where you’ll be more comfortable?”
“I’m good here.” Until she had a clue what was going on, she was staying close to the open door. After all, she grew up in New York City. Her mother taught her at an early age not to trust strangers. Although, she didn’t know if her mother would extend that warning to dashing billionaires or not, but Kyra didn’t find wealth and class as important as her mother did.
He shifted his weight from one foot to the other. “I realize we don’t know each other very well. But I enjoyed our conversation yesterday. You seem like a very interesting young woman, and you have a way of putting people at ease.”
She did? She’d never been told that before. “Thank you. But I don’t understand why you’re, uh, proposing to me.”
“I’m trying to secure a very important business deal. The problem is the seller is an older gentleman and a traditionalist. He has certain expectations that I currently fail to meet. Such as being a family man.”
He wants to play house with me?
No way. She wasn’t doing this. She didn’t even know his name. “I’m not the right person.”
“You’re exactly who I need.” His eyes gleamed with excitement.
She made an obvious point of glancing at the time on her phone. “I really need to get going. I have a lot of rooms to clean today.”
“You don’t have to worry. I’ll vouch for you.”
What an odd thing to say, but then again, this whole episode could easily be classified as bizarre. Just so she knew who to avoid in the future, she asked, “Who are you?”
His dark brows rose. “You don’t know?”
She shook her head. The only thing she knew about him was that no one had a right to look that sexy. “Would I have asked if I knew?”
“True. Allow me to introduce myself. My name is Cristo Kiriakas.”
His name did ring a bell—a very loud bell. It took a moment until she was able to place it. Kyra gasped. He was her boss—the owner of the Glamour Hotel and Casino chain that included the newly built Blue Tide Resort. She would have known it was him if only she’d done her homework. This was, after all, the Governor’s suite—the best in the resort.
“Nice to meet you, Mr. Kiriakas. I...I’m Kyra Pappas. I didn’t recognize you.”
“Don’t look so worried.” He spoke in a calm, soothing tone. “I didn’t expect you to recognize me. And please, call me Cristo. My father insists on going by Mr. Kiriakas. So every time you say that name, I’ll be looking over my shoulder for my father.”
“Sorry, sir. Um. Cristo. You can call me Kyra.” At this particularly awkward juncture, she supposed the wisest thing to do regarding her employment while in a foreign country was to reason with the man. “Does my job hinge on me playing along with your wedding plans?”
“No, it doesn’t. You don’t have
