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A Date With A Billionaire
A Date With A Billionaire

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A Date With A Billionaire

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She rolled her eyes. “Like they ever stopped?”

“Er…right. I’ll walk you down to your car.”

“No,” Beth said hastily. “I’m fine.”

He ignored her, of course, and all the way down to the parking garage she was aware of curious glances from Kane’s employees. He didn’t seem to notice and she wondered how you ever got used to being the center of attention. It was probably something that happened gradually, until you didn’t even realize that everyone was watching.

As Kane held the car door for her, he smiled. “I’ll see you Saturday morning…we need to leave by six to be sure of catching the ferry.”

She forced a smile of her own. “Great. Six sharp. Do me a favor, though.”

“Sure.”

“Don’t wear a suit.”

Kane laughed as Beth pulled from her parking space. To his surprise, he was actually looking forward to the weekend. There were worse things than spending time with a woman who wasn’t marriage hungry and anxious to score with a man simply because he had a hefty bank account.

In the meantime he had a hell of a lot of work to do. Somehow, the more money he made, the less freedom he seemed to have. Weekends were just two more days to get things done, and taking one off would mean lots of catching up.

He couldn’t even remember the last time he’d had lunch without reading reports at the same time—it seemed a waste to just eat when he could be getting something done.

Still, it was rather nice eating with Beth like that. Between her stubborn attitude and that blasted contest she should have been a thorn in his side, but it wasn’t turning out that way.

The alarm went off at five on Saturday morning and Beth opened a bleary eye. “Shut up,” she growled.

The clock kept blaring and she stuffed a pillow over her head. She didn’t like morning at the best of times, but especially not after failing to sleep more than a couple of hours the night before. Then the phone rang, joining the noise from the radio. Beth moaned and grabbed it, succeeding in knocking the radio to the floor. It made a squawking noise, then fell into blessed silence.

“Yes?” she mumbled into the receiver.

“You’re still in bed, aren’t you?”

“Uh…Emily.”

It was her business partner at the clothing store. They got along great except for her being one of those annoying morning people who woke with the sun. Of course, she had incentive—a husband who worshiped the ground she walked on, along with a darling daughter and another baby on the way. Most of the time Beth managed not to envy Emily, but for the last several days she’d found her heart aching more than usual.

It didn’t make sense, because she didn’t want something from Kane. She just wanted…something. Beth dropped her head back on a pillow and wondered when her comfortable life had become inadequate.

“Yup, it’s me,” Emily said. “You have to get up, you have one hour to make yourself beautiful for Kane O’Rourke.”

Beth made a face. “That would take more than an hour, it would take a miracle.”

Her friend sighed. “You’re a very attractive woman.”

“Says the woman with the face of an angel,” Beth retorted. “I’ll talk to you when I get back.”

Putting the phone down, Beth pushed away the blankets, yawning and stretching, relishing the cool morning air on her bare skin. She’d already packed an overnight bag; it waited in the living room.

Padding into the bathroom, she glanced into the mirror. Her nipples were drawn tight, crowning her barely B-cup breasts. “A little cleavage would have been nice,” she murmured. Overall her figure wasn’t awful, but it certainly didn’t inspire any great male fantasies.

She’d barely been touched by a man, even during her brief engagement. It was her own fault. Curt had wanted to make love, but she’d been determined to “do things right” with a traditional wedding night. Now she wished they had made love a hundred times. At least she’d have something to remember…something to distract her from thinking about Kane O’Rourke.

“At least I’m a natural blonde,” Beth said, lifting her chin. Dark blond, to be sure, but blond. Not that Kane would ever see the proof of it.

When the doorbell rang fifty-five minutes later she was just finished swiping mascara on her lashes. She grabbed her purse and overnight bag and hurried to the door.

“I’m ready,” she said, flinging it open.

Kane waited, one hand holding a bunch of flowers, the other tucked into a pair of jeans. She stared, breathless at the difference casual clothing could make. A white shirt emphasized his shoulders—shoulders that seemed even more broad and muscular now that they weren’t covered by an expensive suit. He looked younger, more relaxed, and altogether sexy.

“Is something wrong?” he asked, taking the bag from her fingers.

“Yes. I mean, no. Nothing.”

He held out the flowers and she tore her gaze from his face and took the bouquet. It was a surprising mix of small yellow roses and daisies. “Thank you.”

Beth locked the door, her heart racing even harder. Kane O’Rourke in a suit was enough to make a woman think twice about all kinds of things; in a pair of jeans he could make serious inroads on her principles. Especially carrying daisies.

The bouquet did make her wonder, but it was probably just for publicity. At the thought, a thread of sadness crept through her. She loved flowers, but Curt had been the practical sort who didn’t go for romantic gestures—or else she just didn’t inspire that kind of thing.

At the curb sat a black limousine. Behind it idled a Chevy Blazer, black also. A photographer was filming them from an open window and her cheeks warmed. It had to be the newspeople Kane had warned her about earlier in the week. The opulence of the stretch limo made her grateful for the early hour since her neighbors would still be in bed—a hope that was dashed when she saw a curious face peer from the house across the street.

Swell.

She waved and scrambled into the vehicle with more haste than grace, sinking into the butter-soft leather seat. She put the flowers to one side and pushed her hands into the cushions, trying to sit straight.

“This is ridiculous,” she muttered.

Kane handed Beth’s bag to the chauffeur and climbed in next to her. “What’s ridiculous?”

“Spending this kind of money on a car.”

He hid his smile. “There’s nothing wrong with a little luxury. Besides, it gives us time to talk.”

“Oh, yeah, that’s a great idea. Like we have anything in common to talk about.”

“We’ll find something.” Kane stretched his legs out and rolled his shoulders. He suspected Beth was one of those people who got up a little irritable in the morning, which unfortunately led to thoughts of the ways he could find to wake her up in a better mood.

He wouldn’t be taking it anywhere, but it was baffling the way she made him feel. Beth Cox was too young for him, too innocent and too damned much trouble.

So why did he have this urge to spend the next seventy-plus miles kissing her senseless?

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