Heiress Recon. Carla Cassidy

Чтение книги онлайн.

СКАЧАТЬ and jeans as he had the night before in his expensive suit.

      “You brought me here on purpose, didn’t you? We could have gone to any resort in the country, hidden away in an expensive hotel, but you chose this place just to be difficult.”

      For the first time, he smiled and the gesture warmed those gorgeous eyes of his. “I thought roughing it would be good for you, build your character. You know, no masseuse, no maid service, no cook.”

      She took a sip of the coffee. “Ah, we’re back to the same thing. You don’t know anything about me, and you certainly don’t know anything about my character. I’m beginning to find you a bore, repo man.”

      “I know everything I need to know about you, Bree.” He emphasized the name the press had given her.

      She took another sip of coffee and eyed him over the rim of her cup. She found his instantaneous, obvious dislike of who he thought she was to be both intriguing and irritating.

      She drained her coffee mug and stood, deciding that a shower and getting dressed for the day might make her feel better prepared to take on the next four days.

      “I’m going to shower.” She walked halfway across the room, then turned back and smiled at him. “I like my eggs scrambled,” she said, then disappeared into the bathroom.

      If he expected her to be a spoiled brat, then she could act like one. Minutes later she stood beneath a tepid spray of water, her mind flying over the events of the last couple of days.

      She knew why it was so easy to exchange verbal insults with Troy; it kept her mind off the fact that her life had become horribly surreal since Curt had been stabbed. There was no question that the knife had been meant for her, that if Curt hadn’t acted quickly and taken the knife himself, she would have been wounded or worse.

      She’d spent the night of the attack in the hospital with Curt, waiting while he had surgery to stitch up arm muscles that had been damaged by the cut.

      It had almost been a relief for her father to tell her that she’d been threatened because of a business deal he was working on. Before he’d told her his suspicion, she’d been unable to imagine why anyone would want to harm her.

      Hopefully, the meeting her father mentioned he had on Wednesday night would resolve this issue and she could get back to her life, a life that would no longer involve L.A. or the paparazzi.

      Her life in California was always meant to be temporary. Her one true love was the Precious Pets Animal Haven she owned in Kansas City. She’d hoped to have a chance to tell her dad that she was moving back and taking over the day-to-day running of the business she loved.

      She’d already told Mike Kidwell, her manager at the Haven, that she hoped to be working side by side with him in the next couple of weeks.

      She shut off the shower and grabbed one of the thin towels to dry off. Hopefully, she’d be able to tell her dad the good news on Thursday. She knew he’d be thrilled with her decision.

      In fact, she’d sold her dad part of the land where Precious Pets was located for his new mall. She hadn’t considered that her farmer neighbors would be up in arms over the plan for a retail area.

      She dressed in a pair of jeans and a T-shirt that read BREE across the breasts, then brushed out her wet hair and left the bathroom.

      Troy stood at the stove taking up crispy bacon. “If you do breakfast really well, I’ll see about letting you make me lunch and dinner, as well,” she said as she returned to her seat at the table.

      He turned to look at her with narrowed eyes. “Don’t push your luck, Bree. I’ll do breakfast duty and you can do lunch. We can share dinner.”

      She watched silently as he cracked eggs into a bowl and then scrambled them with a bit of milk. “The last time I saw you, you weren’t such a judgmental jerk. What happened since then to change you?” she asked.

      “I didn’t change and I’m not particularly judgmental.” The toast popped up and he grabbed the pieces to butter. “You and I both come from the same background of privilege. Some of us take our wealth and the opportunities it provides us to build something positive with it. Others lead lives of excess and go nowhere.”

      “And because you’ve seen a couple of pictures of me in the tabloids, you think you know all about me?”

      He scooped up the eggs, prepared them each a plate, then set hers in front of her and joined her at the table.

      “You aren’t as smart as you look, repo man.” She picked up a piece of the toast and took a bite, chewing thoughtfully as her gaze remained focused on him. “If you think those photographs that capture just a second of my life are the total sum of me, then you have a bigger problem than you realize.”

      He released a small sigh. “Look, I think we’ve gotten off on the wrong foot. I don’t want to spend the next four days trading insults with you. I suggest a truce.” He held out his hand to her.

      He had a nice hand, one that looked strong and capable. She grabbed it and was surprised by a rivulet of warmth that traveled up her arm. “Truce,” she agreed and quickly pulled her hand away.

      For the next few minutes they ate in silence. She gazed out the window where the view was of tranquil isolation. Tall trees were grouped closely together with bushes and tall grass at their bases. In the distance the sun sparkled on a large body of water visible between the trunks of the trees.

      Actually, four days here didn’t seem like such a horrible idea, but she didn’t want him to know that’s what she thought.

      “So, what are we going to do to pass this time in this place?” she asked. “I don’t suppose you do manicures.”

      “Give me a pair of clippers, and I’ll do the best I can,” he replied.

      She winced at the very idea. “I think the only way we’ll get along is if you pretend to be my cabana boy and fix me cocktails and hors d’oeuvres.”

      He grinned at her and said, “I’ll consider it after you put on an apron and pretend you’re my maid.” He eyed her curiously. “You know how to fish?”

      “Actually I do. When I was little and it was just me and my dad, he’d take me to Smithville Lake and we’d sit on the dam and fish on Sunday afternoons. But I haven’t done it in years.”

      “It’s like riding a bicycle, once you’ve mastered it you don’t ever forget how.”

      Once again she glanced out the window. The idea of sitting on a bank with a line in the water was surprisingly appealing. She hadn’t realized how scared she’d been since the attack in the club until now, when she felt completely safe and protected by the man who sat across from her.

      “How about you wash the dishes and I’ll dry?” she asked when they finished eating.

      He looked at her in surprise. “That will work,” he replied.

      Together they stood and carried their dishes to the sink. He’d just started running water when a cell phone rang. He quickly shut off the faucet and pulled the phone from his shirt pocket.

      “Sinclair,” he said.

      Brianna СКАЧАТЬ