Propositioned by the Billionaire. Lucy King

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СКАЧАТЬ could put it down to jet lag if you’d like,’ said Phoebe helpfully, and then shuddered at the dark scowl that crossed his face.

      Jo sighed and her shoulders slumped. ‘Was Mark very drunk?’

      ‘As a skunk,’ said Phoebe, ‘and after some time in the pond he smelt a bit like one too.’

      Jo’s nose wrinkled. ‘What was he doing in the pond?’

      ‘Making friends with the wildlife,’ said Alex dryly. ‘Someone forgot to put up a fence.’

      ‘No one forgot,’ said Phoebe. ‘It’s deliberate. It’s cool. The fencelessness of the San Lorenzo Roof Gardens symbolises the uninhibited harmony between man and nature, and is part of its uber-cool appeal.’ At least that was what the website claimed.

      ‘It’s absurd,’ Alex growled. ‘Your boyfriend,’ he said, emphasising the word with sharp disdain as his gaze skewered Jo to the spot, ‘could have caused serious damage.’

      ‘It’s not his fault,’ said Jo, her face falling. ‘He’s up to his ears in debt.’

      ‘Idiot,’ muttered Alex.

      ‘Spoken like a true billionaire,’ said Phoebe tartly.

      Alex’s eyes glittered dangerously. ‘There you go again,’ he said, shaking his head as if in disappointment. ‘Jumping to conclusions and making rash assumptions. I haven’t always been a billionaire. I know what it’s like to have nothing but debts.’

      So do I, thought Phoebe, and tried not to think about the enormous loan she’d taken out to set up her business.

      ‘But I didn’t drown myself in drink,’ Alex added.

      ‘Lucky you.’ There were times when Phoebe felt like mainlining vodka, but so far she’d managed to resist.

      He turned to Jo. ‘I don’t think you should see him again.’

      ‘Thanks to you I probably won’t,’ Jo fired back.

      Right. Phoebe had had enough of this. Sibling squabbling had no place here. ‘Perhaps you two could continue this discussion another time,’ she said in a voice that brooked no argument. ‘Jo, you need to go back inside and mingle. Alex, you need to get a drink and relax. And I need to get on with making sure nothing else goes wrong.’

      ‘Ms Jackson?’

      Phoebe spun round to see the portly form of Mr Bogoni barrelling towards them, huffing and puffing and looking as if he were on the verge of exploding. Her spirits dipped at the expression on his face. Oh, Lord. What was the matter now? Surely one mishap was quite enough for one evening.

      ‘Ms Jackson,’ he said again, smoothing his hair.

      ‘Mr Bogoni,’ said Phoebe, flashing him a bright smile that as usual didn’t manage to dent the icy demeanour. ‘You’ll be delighted to know that the flamingo remains unharmed.’

      ‘I am indeed glad to hear that, but unfortunately we have another problem.’

      ‘What sort of problem?’

      ‘I think you’d better come with me.’

      Chapter Three

      PHOEBE’S MIND RACED as she followed Mr Bogoni across the terrace towards the bar. What could possibly have happened now? And why did Alex have to be following quite so closely? In fact why did he have to be there at all? ‘There was no need for you to come too,’ Phoebe muttered out of the side of her mouth.

      ‘You think not?’ he drawled. ‘This is perhaps the most important night of my sister’s career. I’m interested in everything that goes on.’

      ‘Whatever it is,’ said Jo firmly, ‘Phoebe will be able to fix it.’

      Phoebe shot Jo a smile of thanks for her vote of confidence and prepared herself for the worst.

      But as she stepped into the bar her eyes were drawn up and she froze in absolute horror.

      Oh, dear God. This wasn’t a problem. This was a disaster of gargantuan proportions, the likes of which nothing in her experience could have prepared her for. Compared to this, the Mark debacle was as insignificant as a tiny sequin on a full-length ball gown.

      Phoebe blinked to check she wasn’t hallucinating, but no. This was no hallucination.

      Every single one of Jo’s beautiful handbags was on fire. Multicoloured flames licked at the precious creations and the acrid smell of burning plastic and fabric filled the room. Sparks flew. Metal crackled. Then, as if cremating handbags weren’t bad enough, the individual light above each pedestal went out, the localised sprinkler system kicked in and tiny droplets of water rained over the charred remains. Smoke billowed and then whooshed up into the powerful air conditioning vents.

      Icy panic flooded through her. How on earth was she going to spin this? All the guests had edged to the sides of the room and every single one of them was staring up at the spectacle in utter amazement. Jo looked as if she was on the verge of tears; Alex’s stony expression told her he wasn’t amused in the slightest.

      The dreadful silence gave way to a rumble of speculation that began to sweep through the room. Gasps of amazement were swiftly followed by murmurs about flammable fabric and toxic materials and Phoebe realised that if she didn’t do something in the next few minutes the situation would become unsalvageable and her business would fail barely before it had begun.

      But what? For the first time in her life, she didn’t have a clue what to say. Terror clawed at her chest and a ball of panic lodged in her throat. Her head went fuzzy and for a moment she thought she was about to start hyperventilating.

      No. She didn’t have time to hyperventilate. Not when Jo’s bags had all just exploded like firecrackers.

      Phoebe’s heart skipped a beat. Wait a moment…firecrackers…

      The idea that popped into her head was so outrageously crazy, so unbelievable, that it might actually work. It was a gamble, but if she showed she believed it, everyone else would too, and she’d have turned a major disaster into a fabulous finale.

      Euphoric relief wiped the fuzz from her head and an unstoppable grin spread across her face. ‘Don’t worry about a thing,’ she said, leaning over to whisper in Jo’s ear and giving her arm a reassuring squeeze. ‘It’s all going to be fine.’

      So how was she going to wriggle out of this one?

      Alex leaned against a pillar and folded his arms over his chest as Phoebe marched across the empty floor, stepped up onto the dais and tapped the microphone. All eyes watched her and the room filled with a sort of morbid excitement that reminded him of birds of prey circling an injured animal.

      How could Jo ever have thought that hiring someone of her own accord was a wise thing to do? Especially someone who allowed the evening to descend into chaos.

      As far as he was aware his sister knew nothing about PR. Whereas he’d worked with his team for years. So why hadn’t she come to him and asked СКАЧАТЬ