The Millionaire

By: Victoria Purman



Chris entwined his fingers with hers. “So, where do you want to go for our honeymoon?”

“Hang on,” Ellie said. “You’ve got to marry me first.”

“I’ve been waiting for you all my life, Ellie. So we’re doing this damn quick. What about Vegas?”

Ellie shook her head. “I was thinking about somewhere closer to home. Maybe we could get married here in Sydney and then spend a month at One Mile Beach.”

Chris laughed. “Sounds perfect.”

They sat together in the quiet peace of the small, modest living room, with its framed happy snaps and its groaning bookshelf and the pile of magazines on the coffee table and the odds and ends pieces of furniture.

“And when we get back from our honeymoon, what are you going to do, other than scrounge off your family squillions?”

Chris smiled. “What do you think about working with me to dispense with some of the Malone family money? I talked to Callum this morning about setting up a foundation to provide grants to worthy causes. I know more than a few charities and organisations around the world that could do with some help.”

Ellie laid her head on his chest. The sheer perfection of the idea was so simple. “I think that’s a wonderful idea. You can change the world, starting right here at home.”

Chris squeezed her hand. “We can change the world. You’ve already changed mine.”

“You’ve already done a pretty fine job of spreading some of your money around. What are you going to do with the portrait of Grandpa?”

Chris stroked her hair and rested his forehead on hers. “I thought it’d look pretty good above the fireplace in our living room.”

“Our living room?” Ellie murmured.

“It won’t be my place anymore once you move in. And you’re moving in today.”

“I am?”

“I’m not wasting another day without you, Ellie.” He kissed her then, soft and slow.

“You won’t have to,” she replied on a sigh.

“I want you to bring everything, especially this sofa.”

“But it’s so old,” she protested. “Grandpa and Nanna gave it to me when I moved to Sydney. It’s ancient.”

“It’s coming or we don’t get married,” Chris said with a glint in his eye.

“You play hard ball, Chris Malone.”

“Only when it comes to things I love.”

“I’m glad you’ve quit. The thought of you being shot at again…” Ellie ran a hand through his hair, knotted her fingers in it. “Or of anything happening to your hair.”

He chuckled then grew serious. “Why didn’t you ask me to?”

“I wanted to. That night at your place, I nearly did. But it had to be your choice, not mine.”

“I choose you, Ellie.”

“I’m glad you have,” she said, and even she could hear the joy in her voice. “It would have killed me to love you and not be loved back.”

He grinned. “That was never going to happen. Why do you think I walked out of the water at One Mile Beach just as you were walking past?”

Ellie blinked. “You saw me?”

“Your legs are hard to miss.”

Ellie laughed so hard that her stomach hurt. She laughed so hard it echoed around the room and when Chris kissed her again, she laughed against his lips.

When she came up for air, she quirked an eyebrow at her fiancé. “Damn. I forgot to mention. You’ve made the news.”

“Not again.”

“The gossip pages and news sites are reporting that you’ve dumped that European Princess What’s-her-Name.”

He held up a hand. “I never confirmed or denied anything.”

“I remember. Did you do that to make me jealous?”

His grin gave her the answer she needed.

“They’re saying you’re now engaged.”

“Now that,” he replied, “is a story I’m very happy to confirm.”

Ellie harrumphed. “To some Sydney nobody.”

Chris’s smile reached right into her heart. “That’s just like a reporter to get their facts wrong.”

Ellie was going to enjoy waking up to that sexy grin every day for the rest of her life. She looked at his mouth, was suddenly hungry for it. “I’d better call my editor. She’s after all the gory details.”

“In a minute,” Chris said as he tugged off his T-shirt. “On second thought. Make that a couple of hours.”

The End

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