Plain Jane's Prince Charming. Melissa Mcclone

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Plain Jane's Prince Charming - Melissa Mcclone Mills & Boon Silhouette

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Maybe if the event went well, Jane could start a nonprofit group to assist other families. Wait. One step at a time. If she didn’t get her hopes too high, she wouldn’t be hurt. But there was one promise she could make. “I’ll do whatever it takes to make this a fantastic event, Chase. I promise you that.”

      “Jane.” The way he said her name, his voice low and sexy, made her pulse quicken. Excitement, that’s all. “I’m not just writing you a check. I want to help you organize the event.”

      Organize or take over? Chase Ryder didn’t strike her as a follower. “You want to help? Me?”

      He nodded. “We can work together.”

      Together? He had to be joking. The man ran a major company, no doubt he had dozens of social obligations. But the look in his eyes… “You’re serious?”

      He nodded.

      Uh-oh. This wasn’t good. Chase Ryder, philanthropist, thought he wanted to help. And he probably did until something more important came along or the workload got too heavy, and she’d be left to pick up the pieces and do it on her own. She didn’t want to go through that again. Jane straightened.

      “Wow,” she said, making an attempt to sound enthusiastic. “That’s so generous of you.”

      “I just want to help.”

      But she didn’t want his help. She didn’t want to rely on anyone else again.

      Jane needed him to realize that working together was not a good idea without offending him. She needed him to stick to just being the sponsor of the event. “Don’t you think we might drive each other crazy? It’s hard to work together when you know someone, but when you don’t—”

      “I know I can work with you.”

      Yeah, because we are so much alike. She managed to keep from rolling her eyes. “We just met.”

      “I trust my instinct.”

      Ever since her relationship with Mark had ended, so did Jane. Right now her instincts shouted, “Run away, run away.”

      “Plus,” Chase continued. “I know what I see.”

      “What’s that?”

      “Someone with a passion to make this event a complete success.” He stared at her as if he could see inside her heart. “I hear it in your voice and see it in your eyes.”

      He had her all wrong. “That’s not passion, it’s panic.”

      “Whatever you want to call it, it’s there,” he said. “You know what you want to accomplish and that’s where I come in. I have the contacts, the experience and the money to fulfill your vision. Teaming together makes sense.”

      It did. To a point.

      She wanted the fundraiser to succeed, but at what cost? He might want control over all the decisions. He could change his mind and walk away. “What about the time commitment? You mentioned putting on an event like this takes a lot of work. You’re so busy with your company, can you do this, too?”

      “I’m the boss. I can delegate.”

      Delegate or shirk his responsibilities? If he could do that with his work, he might do that with the benefit.

      “Besides, aren’t you busy, yourself?” he asked. “You have a job and your own life to live.”

      “Well, yes,” she said. “But the extra work is only for a short time. Once the benefit is over—”

      “We can both get back to normal,” he finished for her. “I understand the time commitment which is why sharing the workload makes sense.”

      Darn. He was right. Jane should say yes and be done with it. This wasn’t about her. She had to think about Emma and Michelle, not herself.

      He leaned over the table. “Don’t you want my help, Jane?”

      Oh, man. She was going to ruin everything if she weren’t careful. Would she ever learn…? “I—I want your help. I appreciate your offer. I really do. It’s just…”

      “What?”

      She moistened her lips. Might as well tell him the truth. “You’ve caught me a little off guard.”

      “I’m not one for big surprises myself, but sometimes the unexpected is just what a person needs.”

      Chase Ryder was the last thing she needed.

      But as he continued staring at her, the concern in his eyes seemed genuine. That confused her. He didn’t know Michelle or Emma, yet he wanted to help. Worse, a part of Jane—a big part—wanted his help.

      Why was she hesitating?

      He was offering her dream come true. And, she realized, her worst nightmare at the same time. Once she agreed, she couldn’t predict or control the outcome. It would be out of her hands. Just like with her father’s cancer. Or Emma’s. That scared Jane.

      “I would like your help. I…I probably need it.” What if it didn’t work out? What if you’re not sincere? What if…? “But have you thought this over? I mean, really considered what’s involved in organizing an event? What if something came up and you couldn’t help? Where would that leave…?” Me. “The benefit?”

      He reached across the table, covered her hand with his and gave a gentle squeeze. “I won’t let you down, Jane.”

      How many times had she heard those words or something similar before? Just once she wanted to believe that someone would follow through. That someone cared enough. That someone wouldn’t leave her alone.

      So all alone.

      She stared at his hand, large and warm over hers. His palm and fingers were rough, callused, as if he labored outside instead of working in an office. She didn’t mind his touch. She liked it. Uh-oh. Jane tugged her hand away and grabbed her drink.

      “So what do you say?” Chase asked.

      What other choice did she have? She wanted the benefit to be successful. That was the only goal. She might have the “passion” to put the event together, but she couldn’t do it without a sponsor. She’d be stupid if she said no. “Yes.”

      “Great, because I have an amazing location.”

      Jane held her iced cappuccino in midair. She should have known. He’d just gotten involved and he wanted to choose the venue. So much for any warm and fuzzy feelings about working together. She might as well get used to it. “Where is that?”

      “My winery.”

      The cool glass nearly slipped from her fingers. She placed the cup on the table. Okay, maybe this wouldn’t be so bad after all. “You have a winery?”

      “In Stafford.”

      Better yet. Stafford, an upscale area south of Portland, consisted of rolling hills of green covered with estates,

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