Rafael's Convenient Proposal

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Rafael's Convenient Proposal
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“Marriage was my daughter’s suggestion to this untenable situation,” Rafael said. His expression looked like thunder.

Mallory felt the point of that fiery dart penetrate her soul. But it meant Apolonia had found a way around her father’s objections and that salient truth flooded Mallory with happiness.

“You’ll have to pretend to be my wife in public and live in my suite so the staff don’t talk,” Rafael ground out.

“Unlike a wife, I plan to live my own life taking care of your daughter. I intend to let you live yours.”

Rafael tossed his head back. The man had been caught in a snare of his daughter’s making and he didn’t like it one bit.

“So when do you want our wedding to take place?”


Every woman has dreams—deep desires, all-consuming passions, or maybe just little everyday wishes! In this brand-new miniseries from Harlequin Romance® we’re delighted to present a series of fresh, lively and compelling stories by some of our most popular authors—all exploring the truth about what women really want.

Step into each heroine’s shoes as we get up close and personal with her most cherished dreams…big and small!

 Is she a high-flying executive…but all she wants is a baby?

 Has she met her ideal man? If only he wasn’t her new boss…

 Is she about to marry, but is secretly in love with someone else?

 Or does she simply long to be slimmer, more glamorous, with a whole new wardrobe?

Whatever she wants, each heroine finds happiness on her own terms—and unexpected romance along the way. And she’s about to discover whether Mr. Right is the answer to her dreams—or if he has a few questions of his own!

This month enjoy Rafael’s Convenient Proposal by Rebecca Winters.

And look out for more from our bestselling authors coming soon!

Rafael’s Convenient Proposal
Rebecca Winters



CONTENTS

CHAPTER ONE

CHAPTER TWO

CHAPTER THREE

CHAPTER FOUR

CHAPTER FIVE

CHAPTER SIX

CHAPTER SEVEN

CHAPTER EIGHT

CHAPTER NINE

CHAPTER TEN

CHAPTER ONE

“FOR those of you just joining the Jack Hendley Friday Night Live show broadcasting from New York, we have the gorgeous Ms. Mallory Ellis in studio with us this evening.”

The band played a little theme music and the audience clapped.

“If you have eyes in your head, you could be forgiven for thinking she’s a world-class supermodel or top box office movie star, but you’d be dead wrong. At twenty-nine years of age, Ms. Ellis has the distinction of being one of the youngest female executives ever featured in Financial Wizards of Wall Street.

“A top honors graduate in corporate law from Yale University, Ms. Ellis was snapped up by Windemere Cosmetics, a struggling Los Angeles based firm. In three short years under her guidance, the company not only has a new name, ‘Lady Windemere Cosmetics,’ it has also gone global. So far the profits keep rising which is good news for the employees who now own stock in the company.

“According to the magazine article, her undisputed genius lies in profit and loss savvy, but tonight we’re hoping she’ll reveal some of the secrets of her phenomenal success story.”

From far away, the audience couldn’t tell the TV host’s eyes glittered as he studied her. “According to a source close to you, you’re a woman who knows what women want, and you put women with the right credentials in charge. Did you always plan to be a big female tycoon?”

There was an edge to his question rather than a teasing tone. She’d seen him in action before. Jack Hendley was a male chauvinist who had fixed ideas about a woman’s place in life. That was all right with Mallory. A lot of insecure men had the same problem.

Coming on this show was the last thing she’d wanted to do. But when Liz Graffman, the seventy-year-old widow who owned Lady Windemere Cosmetics, received a call from the television network asking that its vice president fly to New York and be on the Jack Hendley show, Mallory couldn’t say no to Liz’s plea.

Lady Windemere Cosmetics would get the kind of exposure on his show you couldn’t buy at any price.

Over the last thirty-six months, Mallory’s relationship with Liz had become like that of a favorite great-aunt and niece. Surely Mallory could stand a half hour of being patronized by one of television’s longstanding night talk show hosts.

“A tycoon by definition implies someone who owns a company or many companies. I only work for one,” she corrected him with a friendly smile. He didn’t smile back which was no surprise since he could sense she was refusing to play ball with him.

“However to answer your question, when I was old enough to think about the world, there was only one thing that drove me; my insatiable love for surfing.”

His eyes flared because he hadn’t been expecting that response. “Where did you grow up?”

“Huntington Beach, California.”

“That explains it. Were you a good surfer?”

“I won a few western regional championships at Redondo Beach and Malibu.”

Several wolf whistles resounded along with the clapping from the listening audience.

“At this juncture I’m sure every eligible male watching would like to know if there’s a future Lord Windemere waiting in the wings somewhere.”

The man was so predictable she had to stifle a moan before she said, “No.”

“Does that mean—”

“It just means no,” she broke in on him with a purposely engaging smile that lit up her brilliant blue eyes. Mallory had done her share of dating. She loved men as much as the next woman, but she didn’t confuse her personal and professional life by getting too close to any one man. In fact she couldn’t see it happening in the foreseeable future. Maybe one day.

“So what happened to turn you from a surfer into a corporate attorney?”

She’d made him uncomfortable with her brief, unrevealing answers. Good. It was about time he’d asked her a question relevant to her being on the show in the first place.

“If I wasn’t surfing, I was reading beneath a beach umbrella. At an early age I became addicted to comic books. My father has a huge collection dating from the forties to the present which he treasures to this day. I must have read every one of them and particularly liked the stories about the Amazon women from Paradise Island with their secret powers.”

He turned to the audience. “Put her in one of those sexy little outfits, and she’d look just like them.” His remark provoked more whistles and cheers.

Mallory ignored the remark. When the din died down she said, “During the WWII years, the man who created that series once said that if women were given a little more time and the added strength they’d develop out of the war, they’d begin to control things in a serious way. When women ruled, there wouldn’t be any more war because the girls wouldn’t want to waste time killing men.”

Another loud burst of applause broke out.

“Needless to say, those comments found a resonant chord in me. From that moment on I decided I would be one of those women who would begin to control things in a serious way.”

By now most of the women were on their feet clapping while the band played some more theme music. When it finally subsided and they sat down again the host said, “So it’s true that since you’ve taken over the reins, Lady Windemere has become an all women-run company?”

Mallory nodded, then cocked her head. The unconscious gesture caused her long, glistening hair, the color of dark mink, to slide over one shoulder.

“That’s right. Women want to be beautiful for men, but they dress and put on makeup to pass a woman’s inspection. You’re married, Mr. Hendley. When your wife asks you if you like her in pink or red lipstick, what do you say?”

“That I like her no matter what she wears.”

“Exactly. You sound like a good husband who knows how to stay out of hot water. But you’re no help because you don’t want to offend her by giving her a wrong answer.

“The female managers and employees at Lady Windemere don’t have to be careful in the same way. They’ll tell a customer the truth and create a pallet of colors just for her to make her feel her most beautiful and confident. In the end she’ll buy more products and stay loyal to the brand for life.”

“In other words, I won’t be able to find a man to wait on me if I walk into one of your stores.”

Her remarks had gotten under his skin. She sat back in the chair resting her hands on the armrests.

“No.”

“Some might argue that you’re sexist.”

Mallory had been waiting for that salvo. She re-crossed her long elegant legs. “After taking a good look at Windemere, I saw what I thought needed doing in order to turn it into a promising business concern.

 

“If I were in the hierarchy of a company that didn’t cater exclusively to women, naturally the question of whether to employ males or females wouldn’t be a relevant issue.”

His brows lifted. “You mean you wouldn’t fire all the men and put a bunch of women in charge, say—if you headed a national auto parts chain that was going under?”

The man refused to let the subject go. Maybe that was why his ratings were slipping. Mallory was beginning to understand why the network was planning to install a woman co-host. They needed a feminine element to offset his sexist outlook on life.

“If it were in my power to hire and fire, I’d see who was productive and who wasn’t. Whether male or female, they’d be gone if they didn’t have the company’s best interest at heart.”

He sat back in his chair, eyeing her speculatively. “We only have a minute left before we have to go. I see a lot of hands in the audience.” He turned to them. “What’s your question?”

“How about a date after the show?” a half a dozen guys shouted.

Mallory had known better than to expect any questions about Lady Windemere cosmetics, not after the way the host had handled the program.

“Thank you, but my busy schedule won’t permit it,” she answered with another smile. “You’ve been such a great audience, I want you to have some samples of Lady Windemere products I brought with me. They’ll be outside the doors when you leave.”

While the audience cheered and clapped, she pulled a gift-wrapped package from her purse.

“This is for your wife, Mr. Hendley. Compliments of Lady Windemere.” Actually it was from Liz who’d placed a personal note inside.

“I’m sure she’ll enjoy your products. Thank you.” He put it to one side. “Before we sign off, can you tell the audience what your plans are after you leave New York?”

“Yes. I’m on my way to Europe to visit our newest store in Lisbon.”

“So it’s business as usual. Did you pick up a degree in Portuguese while you were at Yale too?”

His condescension bored her.

“Don’t I wish. Fortunately for me the new manager communicates in excellent English and Spanish as well as her native tongue.”

He turned to the band and started speaking Spanish to one of the Hispanic members, supposedly to impress his audience, but Mallory’s thoughts were on the new manager she was going to visit, Lianor D’Afonso.

The Portuguese woman exemplified the company’s top female executives abroad who were intelligent, sophisticated, lovely, feminine and possessed great business sense.

During the three week training session in Los Angeles where six European managers had come together, Mallory had felt a particular fondness for the single, twenty-nine-year-old Lianor.

When they weren’t working, Mallory had taken her to many of the tourist sites. They’d discovered that they had a lot in common and agreed on many things.

Mallory had grown up an only child, but if she could have had a sister, she would have wanted someone as delightful as Lianor.

It had been almost four months since the training session had ended. Mallory had to admit she was looking forward to seeing Lianor who’d be meeting her plane tomorrow evening.

“We’re out of time folks,” Jack Hendley said, switching back to English to regain Mallory’s attention. “It’s been a real treat to have you on the show, Ms. Ellis.”

Naturally he didn’t ask her to come back again. She hadn’t been any fun.

“Thank you for inviting me, Mr. Hendley.” She shook hands with him and stood up.

As she left the stage to a round of applause and more wolf whistles, she could hear his mind saying, “Why don’t you go on home and find yourself a man. It’ll make a real woman out of you, honey.”

Mallory had heard it all many times before.

Relieved the show was over and she could get back to normal, she left the studio. A cab came along to take her to her hotel. She’d been working nonstop for a long time and was looking forward to a change of pace the short trip to Portugal would provide.

Rafael D’Afonso grimaced when he realized the new Lady Windemere cosmetics boutique on the rua Da Plata appeared to be thriving.

It was June. By now he’d hoped the American-based company where his sister had been installed as manager would have been forced to close its doors. She would have had no option but to look for another job. Maybe then he could have talked her into giving up her Lisbon apartment and coming back home.

Unfortunately his hopes on that score were dashed last week by an offhand comment she’d made about the first quarter’s earnings being even higher than the home company had projected.

She loved her new job and wasn’t about to give it up.

Since their parents’ death twelve years ago, he’d been watching out for his strong-willed sister who’d already turned down several marriage proposals. If she immersed herself in business much longer, she would miss out on the most important role of her life—becoming a wife.

Lianor was already twenty-nine, six years younger than he was. Time was running out for her. One day soon she would mourn the fact that she had no husband, no children. He refused to let the scars from her past ruin the rest of her life.

Though Rafael was weighted down by bad news that hadn’t fully sunk in yet, he decided now was the perfect time to use it as leverage to force her to come home and embrace the life she was meant to live. All he wanted was her happiness.

As he entered the boutique located in Lisbon’s Chiado district, their gazes met. She was still helping a customer. Her other two employees were both busy as well. Taking a deep breath to curb his impatience, he headed for her private office. He would wait for her no matter how long it took.

To his relief she joined him within a couple of minutes. He put his cell phone away and hugged her. After she’d sat down behind her desk she smiled, looking supremely pleased with herself.

“Take a chair, brother dear. You’re prowling like a hungry wolf. What’s put that grave look on your face?”

He remained standing. “There’s no easy way to say this. As you know, Maria has experienced unbearable stomach pain lately. She finally went to the doctor and was diagnosed with cancer. She’s in the very last stages. He said she won’t be leaving the hospital.”

“Oh no—” Lianor cried. In the next instant she’d leaped from the chair and had thrown her arms around him again, dissolved in tears. “The poor thing. What about Apolonia? Does she know yet?”

“No.” He’d left his ten-year-old daughter playing with a friend. His housekeeper, Ines, was watching them. “It’s going to come as a tremendous shock.”

“I can’t believe it. Maria’s too young. I thought she’d be with you until Apolonia was all grown up.”

“So did I,” he muttered.

“This is awful,” she lamented.

It was. Since his wife, Isabell, had died of pneumonia within weeks of giving birth, sixty-two-year-old Maria who’d been a maid in Isabell’s parents’ home, had taken on the role of surrogate grandmother to Apolonia.

Lately his daughter had grown quiet and seemed moody which was not her normal nature. No doubt her worry over Maria, who hadn’t been able to hide her discomfort from the family for several months now, was at the root of her uncharacteristic behavior.

He feared that when Apolonia heard that the only mother-type figure she’d ever known was on the verge of death, his daughter wouldn’t be able to handle it without Lianor being there to take her place.

“That’s why I came here instead of phoning you. I want you to come home with me and we’ll tell her together tonight.”

She pulled out of his arms, wiping her eyes. “I’m sorry, Rafael, but I’m afraid I can’t.”

He blinked in shock. “Why? What’s more important?”

“The vice president of the company is flying in from New York. I have to pick her up at the airport in two hours.”

“You mean the notorious Lady Windemere?”

His sister looked wounded. “I’m sorry that her being a brilliant woman lauded by Wall Street makes you see her in such an unfavorable light, Rafael.”

“How else can a man view a woman who’s hard as nails, as the Americans say.”

“You’re wrong about her, you know. She’s not the owner, and she’s not Lady Windemere. For your information it’s the name she gave the company to revitalize and romanticize it. The rising profits are the proof of her business acumen.

“Her name is Mallory Ellis. And I’m asking you not to speak about her in such a derogatory way again.”

He couldn’t help it.

Mallory. Even her name sounded too masculine to his ear. There was nothing soft about Lianor’s new idol. The idea of his sister spending any more time with some hard-boiled female powerhouse who eschewed marriage and family was anathema to him.

“How long is she going to be here?” his voice grated.

“Tonight through tomorrow night. She’ll fly home the following day.”

Rafael swore under his breath.

She put a placating hand on his arm. “Look—don’t say anything to Apolonia for a couple of more days. I promise I’ll come home as soon as Mallory has flown back to the States.”

He fought to tamp down his frustration. “It doesn’t look like I have any choice. Where’s this American paragon going to stay while she’s here?”

“At my apartment.”

“No, Lianor, you can’t do that.”

“She has become a friend, Rafael. While I was in California she went out of her way to show me one of the most wonderful times of my life. We stayed overnight at her parents’ house and they were nothing but gracious to me.”

Rafael had no idea all that had gone on while she’d been out of the country.

“I’m certainly not going to let her go to some sterile hotel room. Besides, you always wine and dine your friends and business associates at home.”

“I happen to live at our family’s pousada which makes it convenient to entertain guests.”

His sister eyed him frankly. “Taking her home would have been my first choice, but knowing how you feel about my job, I thought it best to stay away.”

“It’s your home too,” he averred forcefully. After a pause, “Bring her there tonight.” He decided he wanted to meet this dangerous stranger who’d become friendly with his sister so quickly. “I’ll arrange for a room.”

“This is very important to me, Rafael. Will you give her the Alfama suite?”

The Alfama? His first inclination was to remind her that he reserved the best suite in the palacio for heads of state and royalty. But he caught himself in time.

“I’m prepared to do that favor for you…provided you do one for me later.”

“Of course.”

He eyed his sister through veiled eyes. She had no idea what she’d just agreed to. “I’ll inform Vaz she’ll be staying there for two nights.”

“Thank you,” she whispered before kissing his cheek. “I love you. I know you’re worried sick about Apolonia’s reaction. Over the next few days I’ll try and think of someone who could take Maria’s place.”

“I already have the perfect person in mind,” he murmured, “but we’ll talk about it when I can have your undivided attention.”

After giving her another hug, he left her office in a better mood than when he’d arrived. Apolonia and Lianor adored each other. His sister wouldn’t be able to turn him down when he asked her to take over Maria’s role.

It would bring Lianor back into their world of mutual friends and men. To make certain she said yes, he would visit Maria in the hospital here in Lisbon right now and tell her Lianor had agreed to be there full-time for Apolonia. That would calm Maria’s fears.

As for Lianor, when she went to see Maria, the older woman would thank her for doing her duty as Apolonia’s loving aunt, that is if she could still communicate. Lianor wouldn’t have the heart to argue with a dying woman.

His sister didn’t know it yet, but she needed his daughter as much as Apolonia needed her.

Driving into the city from the airport, Mallory thought she’d never seen anything as romantic as Lisbon against a twilight sky. Draped over seven hills with the Tagus river flowing through, the sight enchanted her. She said as much to Lianor who’d picked her up outside the terminal in a silver Jaguar.

The other woman nodded. “If you think this is beautiful, wait till you see my family’s home overlooking the Atlantic. That’s where you’ll be staying while you’re here. It’s just a half hour from Lisbon on the Estoril coast with its own private beach.”

 

“It sounds heavenly.”

“Do you want to stop for something to eat first?”

“Thank you for offering, but they served a meal on the plane before we landed. I’m still full.”

“If you’re sure.”

“Positive. Right now I just want to absorb everything.”

“That’s how I felt when I flew to Los Angeles for the training session. After it was over and you took me to the airport, I couldn’t resist spending a few days in San Francisco. The plane landed at about this same time of night. For a moment I thought I’d returned to Lisbon because the two cities reminded me of each other.”

“Me too,” Mallory murmured, “but Lisbon is ancient. That’s what makes it so fascinating. Judging by the success of your first quarter earnings, putting the shop in the medieval part of the city was the right decision.”

“I know it was. We’re always busy, and getting busier.”

“That’ll be music to Liz’s ears. She and I discussed the store’s location with the marketing and sales departments at length. I’m glad the company decided to take the risk, and I’m particularly glad they hired you.”

“I’m the one who’s thrilled.”

Mallory found herself warming more and more to Lianor. In fact the whole Windemere staff had taken to her. Several of them had even commented that from a distance, she and Mallory looked like they could be sisters with their tall, curvaceous figures and long dark hair.

But upon closer inspection, Lianor’s olive skin and dramatic brown eyes were in direct contrast to Mallory who’d inherited a peaches-and-cream complexion from her mother. Still, the observation had pleased both of them.

“Loving your work is a blessing, Lianor. Not everyone does. Without the right manager that store wouldn’t be doing as well, and certainly not this soon. Liz has arranged for you to receive a bonus in your next paycheck for all your hard work.”

Lianor beamed before whispering her thanks. “When my brother first heard I’d been hired to manage a cosmetic shop on the rua Da Plata, he warned me I’d be out of a job in a few months because it would fold in the old district. Instead the locals and tourists flock to it.”

Mallory’s eyes danced. “From what you’ve told me, your brother is one of the most successful businessmen in the country. But because he’s a man, he doesn’t understand that a woman will stop whatever she’s doing long enough to try out new cosmetics.”

Her friend nodded. “Rafael’s wife, Isabell, the one I told you about who died ten years ago, was a natural beauty. She rarely used makeup or lipstick around him because he didn’t like it. He says all men prefer women au naturel, so he discounts its importance.”

“But he can’t discount the earnings of your shop now, can he.”

Again her friend grinned. “No, and it’s killing him to admit it.”

“In that case, it might be interesting for him to see the results of our marketing department’s studies done among men throughout Europe. I brought a chart with me. The Portuguese statistics, particularly, would be very illuminating if he ever took the time to look at them.”

“Tell me!” Lianor cried like a co-conspirator.

Mallory brushed the hair away from her cheek, getting caught up in the excitement with her. “Only twenty-one percent of Portuguese men prefer their women without lipstick.”

“I knew it!” her companion blurted.

“The other seventy-nine percent is divided; twenty-eight percent love their women in shocking pink lipstick, followed by seventeen percent who love lip gloss. Sixteen percent like pale pink and the softer shades. Ten percent prefer red, and seven percent like beige or brown.”

Laughter broke out on Lianor’s lips. “Rafael’s forte is marketing. As he says, ‘It’s all in the figures.”’

“He’s right. They don’t lie.”

“I can’t wait to show him that chart, but I’m afraid it will only upset him more.”

“Why? Surely he wants you to succeed!”

“It isn’t that. He’s been unhappy ever since I was hired.”

This was the first Mallory had heard of it. “I don’t understand. After college you worked in the marketing division of a large department store several years before joining the company.”

“That’s true, but I wasn’t the manager.”

“With your talents and background, you should have been,” Mallory stated emphatically. “What is it about your being in charge that bothers him so much?”

“That’s not the problem. Simply put, he wants me to get married, settle down and raise a family. You’d have to be a younger sister and Portuguese to understand. It’s a male thing here. He’s my older brother and protective and—”

“Say no more,” Mallory broke in. “I’ve met his type before. They’re alive and well in America too. You would know what I meant if you could have watched the television talk show I was on last night.” She proceeded to tell Lianor about her experience with Jack Hendley.

Lianor nodded. “Sounds like Rafael. He’s afraid I’ll never meet a man as long as I’m running a store, let alone one that sells women’s products. What he doesn’t realize is, I could go out every night of the week, and still not come across a man who truly interests me.”

“My sentiments exactly.” Mallory flashed her a compassionate glance. “In order to placate your brother, you might remind him that part of our new advertising campaign is geared to reaching the male population—that group looking for a special personal gift for his wife, girlfriend, or mother.

“Knowing what the Portuguese men want, the company is prepared to cater to their individual tastes. Assure him you’ll be meeting a lot of male customers as time goes by.”

“Unfortunately Rafael wants that miracle to happen now. Tonight!”

They both broke into laughter.

“It sounds like he loves you a lot,” Mallory observed.

“He does, and it’s mutual.”

Mallory already knew that. No matter the topic of conversation, since she’d first met Lianor, her brother’s name always managed to creep into the conversation.

Lianor flicked her another glance. “Your father was so nice and laid-back. Does he ever get upset because you’re not married yet?”

“Maybe,” Mallory murmured honestly, “but neither he nor mom has ever said anything. It’s probably because they didn’t marry until their early thirties. They don’t want to come off sounding like hypocrites.”

“My mother was just nineteen when she married my father. Rafael proposed to Isabell when she was only twenty.”

Rafael again. “What do you think’s the reason he hasn’t remarried?”

Her companion let out a deep sigh. “It isn’t for a lack of women! Most of the time I’m appalled at the lengths they go to in order to capture my brother’s attention. But the plain truth is, he loved Isabell so much, it almost killed him when she died. Since then he’s been devoted to Apolonia, and has buried himself in work.”

Apolonia. The niece with the beautiful name.

“Maybe you need to get busy and find him someone he could love. You know him better than anyone else. If he married again, he might not be quite as concerned about your single status.”

“Don’t count on it,” Lianor muttered. “However you’ve given me an idea to solve a problem that’s been plaguing me since he came to the store earlier today with bad news. It has shaken me for several reasons.”

The unexpected emotional throb in Lianor’s voice alerted Mallory that whatever was on her mind was serious. “Do you want to talk about it?” she ventured quietly.

“I shouldn’t have brought it up, but you’re too good a listener.”

“I feel the same way about you. Why do you think I came to Portugal?”

Lianor’s head jerked around for a moment. “What do you mean?”

“You’re running the store so well, I didn’t really need to come. But since I was already in New York, it seemed the perfect opportunity to take you up on your offer to visit.”

“I’m glad you did, Mallory.”

“So am I.”

“Tomorrow’s Sunday and the shop will be closed. I’ll take you sight-seeing. Give yourself a couple of weeks here and we’ll be able to cover the whole city on foot if you want.”

“Oh I want,” she assured the other woman. “If only I could take two weeks off to do nothing but soak up the atmosphere. Nevertheless tomorrow I’m hoping to sleep in and then lie on the beach. I haven’t had a real holiday since I went to work for Liz.”

“That’s too long to go without,” Lianor chastised her, in the nicest possible way of course.

Mallory’s mouth turned up at the corners. “Now that we have that settled, tell me about your brother’s bad news.”

In a few minutes she’d put Mallory in the picture.

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