The Playboy Boss's Chosen Bride

‘Happy Birthday, Mr Devila. May your heart always be filled with joy,’ she said, beaming her own joy right at him.

‘It is, my dear, and you’ve put it there.’ He hooked the ribbon attached to the cushion around his own wrist, then took both her hands in his, pressing lightly, his eyes twinkling encouragement. ‘I prefer at this point in my life not to waste any time. Tell me your name.’

‘It’s Merlina,’ she replied with an arch emphasis for Jake’s benefit. ‘Merlina Rossi.’

‘Merlina…’ He rolled it off his tongue as though finding it much to his taste. ‘A beautiful name for a beautiful woman.’

‘Thank you, Mr Devila.’

‘Call me Byron.’

‘Thank you, Byron.’

‘Now the only other question is—’ he waggled his eyebrows in flirtatious appeal ‘—will you marry me?’

She laughed. Whether it was a joke or not, there was such delicious irony in being proposed to by the grandfather of the man she really wanted, right in front of him.

‘That’s going a bit far, Pop,’ Jake said in an irritable tone, not the least bit amused. ‘You’ve only just laid eyes on her.’

‘Ah, yes! Love at first sight. Nothing like it!’ Byron said with relish, his eyes not leaving hers for a second. ‘Thank you for choosing Merlina for me, Jake.’

‘I didn’t choose her!’ he rasped in exasperation. ‘And you can’t have her. She’s mine!’

‘Yours?’ Byron turned a frown to his grandson. ‘You’ve had a skinny model hanging off you all afternoon. Go back to her, my boy. You can’t have it two ways, you know.’

Absolutely right, Merlina thought darkly, warming to Byron Devila who clearly understood how relationships should work. She gave Jake a look of hot scorn for his playboy ways. If he wanted her to be his, he was going to have to drop every other woman and fight his grandfather for her. Leap through a few of her hoops, too. Like marriage and children. Which wouldn’t happen. She knew that. But it didn’t extinguish the wild fantasy of a life-changing miracle suddenly happening.

‘Mel happens to be my personal assistant!’ Jake bit out menacingly.

‘Mel? Mel? Who is Mel?’ His grandfather demanded.

Merlina was beginning to love Byron Devila. He was fighting on her front, forcing Jake to acknowledge her real name.

‘This woman you’re so taken with is Mel,’ came the belligerent reply. Jake waved his hand in a scissor-like movement that clearly wanted to cut this scene to its end immediately. He glared at Merlina to confirm his statement.

No way, she beamed back at him. You can stew in this juice all by yourself. I’m not rescuing you. Not ever again.

‘You should be shot for corrupting such a beautiful name,’ Byron declared, returning his attention to Merlina, smiling at her as though she was all the goodies in the world wrapped up in one package. ‘It’s the feminine version of Merlin, the great magician, and you hold me spellbound, my dear.’

Oh, he was good! This was real heady stuff! No wonder he’d wooed seven women into wedlock. His immense wealth might be one attraction but the man himself was an absolute charmer.

‘Tell him!’ Jake commanded, positively fizzing with frustration. ‘Tell him you’re my personal assistant.’

Merlina took a deep breath and sighed with blissful satisfaction in her erstwhile employer’s disarray. ‘I was Jake’s personal assistant, Byron,’ she said to her new admirer. ‘But I’m not anymore.’

‘What do you mean you’re not?’ Jake fumed.

She fluttered her eyelashes at him. ‘I left my resignation on your desk yesterday afternoon. You no longer have any claim on my time, Jake.’

He was stunned again.

Temporarily speechless.

It was marvellous!

She smiled sweetly at his grandfather. ‘So I’m free to spend as much time with you as I like, Byron.’

‘Bravo!’ he approved.

But Jake wasn’t finished yet. He came back firing. ‘You can’t leave me without notice.’ His eyes glittered satisfaction as he reminded her, ‘It’s not ethical, Mel.’

‘I believe a month’s notice is more than sufficient to fulfil my obligation to you, Jake. I mentioned it in my note of resignation. You have the next month to find my replacement.’

Realisation hit him, drawing his brows into a glowering frown. ‘But you’ll be away on vacation all that time.’

‘Yes. And I am due that vacation, as you very well know.’ Not having had one in the nineteen months she’d been his slave!

‘Splendid!’ Byron approved heartily. ‘Where would you like to spend it, Merlina? Say the word and I’ll…’

‘Merlina…’ Jake grated out between gnashing teeth, ‘is not a true blonde.’

Had he burst a blood vessel?

To attack on such a personal level…

Byron rolled his eyes at him. ‘Neither is your skinny model, my boy. Do be a good chap and go back to her. I understand your disappointment in losing Merlina to me but you obviously didn’t appreciate her enough.’

Too true! she thought, definitely beginning to love Jake’s grandfather.

‘I’m not talking about bottle blondes,’ came the fierce retort. ‘Her hair is dark brown. She’s wearing a wig!’

That was a mean blow. Completely below the belt.

Byron re-appraised her hair. ‘Damned good wig!’ he approved. ‘Had me fooled.’

Jake went for the kill. ‘And she’s fooling with you, Pop.’

Byron grinned at her. ‘Nothing like having a beautiful woman fooling with me.’

The tight place in Merlina’s chest loosened up as imminent humiliation passed. She grinned back. ‘I wore it to please you on your birthday, Byron. Jake said you preferred blondes.’

‘Well, I now find myself leaning towards sassy brunettes. And speaking of my birthday…’ Byron half turned, offering his arm to her. ‘Allow me to escort you to my table where we can toast it together.’

‘How kind!’ she purred, curling her arm around his.

She wasn’t sure if Jake actually growled but he looked at her as though he’d like to go for her throat. The aggression emanating from him was definitely dangerous. And thrilling.

Byron patted her hand and smiled benevolently at his grandson. ‘Thank you, Jake. Best birthday gift you could have given me.’ He blithely waved a dismissal. ‘You can have the cake rolled away now but I’m keeping Merlina. And please ask the orchestra to play Lerner and Loewe’s classic, ‘The Night They Invented Champagne.’