How to Bag a Billionaire. Nina Milne

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СКАЧАТЬ unlike the other baggers it could be that her plan was to forgo the billionaire and aim straight for the money. Use Zeb to get to the cash. His expression hardened. No way was that happening—and she’d seriously underestimated him if she thought it was.

      ‘I have no intention of being glued to your side.’ Pushing herself off the sink, she glared at him. ‘And I am not coming to the ball. It doesn’t even make sense.’

      ‘It makes perfect sense to me. You could go to the press. You could disappear and resume your quest for Zeb. You know what? I have no idea what kooky scheme you may come up with.’

      ‘I wouldn’t go to the press! Why would I do that?’

      ‘Publicity? Money? Fun? I don’t know.’ Raking a hand through his hair, he stepped forward. ‘Why would you break into my hotel to gatecrash my party? It’s hardly the mark of a sane woman.’

      ‘It’s the mark of a desperate woman.’ Anger sparked the hazel of her eyes with green flecks. ‘Funnily enough breaking and entering wasn’t my number one choice. I tried to get hold of you by more conventional methods but your PA wouldn’t let me near you and you ignored my letters,’ she continued. ‘Presumably I fell into the probable billionaire-bagger category.’

      ‘Honey, you still fall into that category.’ And he’d better not forget it. Glancing at his watch, he muttered a curse. ‘We can discuss all this later. Right now you are coming with me.’

      ‘Says who? You can’t force me to go with you.’

      ‘Want to bet?’ Adam took another step forward. ‘Here’s your choice. You can put your shoes on and accept my kind invitation or I will call the police and have you charged with breaking and entering. Your call.’

      Her whole body vibrated in sheer disbelief. ‘That’s blackmail!’

      ‘Breaking and entering is a criminal offence,’ he returned.

      ‘I had a good reason.’

      ‘So do I. So, prison or party? Your choice.’

      Her lush lips pressed together as she stared at him before hitching slim shoulders. ‘Fine. I’ll come to the party. But you have to promise me that afterwards you will give me your father’s contact details.’

      Unease solidified in his gut; there was no hint of insincerity in her voice. In fact if push came to shove he would swear she didn’t want to come to the party at all.

      ‘After the party we talk,’ he said. Given twenty minutes, he had no doubt he could rip her story to shreds.

      ‘Fine,’ she agreed, and reached round to tug at the zip on her dress once more.

      ‘Let me do that.’

      For a moment he thought she’d refuse, but instead she gave another little shrug and spun around to place one palm flat on the marble counter, strawberry head bowed as though she didn’t wish to see his or her reflection in the mirror.

      Probably a good thing. Because confronted with the smooth expanse of her back his lungs constricted and heat tingled on his cheekbones.

      It’s only a back, Adam.

      Yet his fingers trembled as he reached out and inadvertently brushed the base of her spine as he tugged at the zip.

      ‘It’s stuck,’ he said, the words straining past the breath of disproportionate desire that had hitched in his throat.

      ‘I know that.’ The snap of her words was insufficient to drown her audible gulp; the small shiver that caressed her skin in goosebumps testified to the effect of his touch. ‘I told you that I wasn’t deliberately falling out of it.’

      With relief he freed the silken material and whooshed the zip up, the noise vying with the pounding in his ears

      ‘So how will you explain who I am?’ she demanded as she turned to face him.

      ‘I’ve been thinking about that.’

      ‘Oh, goodie,’ she said. ‘Care to share?’

      His lips twisted with the irony of his idea. ‘Congratulations! You’ve bagged a billionaire.’

      Her body froze into utter immobility before she shook her head. ‘I am not coming as your billionaire-bagger date.’

      Adam frowned; behind the anger in her eyes was a vulnerable gleam of genuine horror.

      ‘No way am I walking in there with everyone believing I’m with you for your money. I’d rather go to prison.’

      ‘Don’t be melodramatic. Who cares what people think?’ Adam lifted his shoulders in pure indifference.

      ‘In this case, me,’ she said, as her hands slammed on the curve of her hips.

      Irritation coursed through his veins at the continued sheer sincerity of her tone and the fact that he couldn’t work her out.

      ‘Tough,’ he said. ‘You’re coming to the ball—and what’s more you’re coming as my date. I’d rather people assume you’ve bagged me than work out why you are claiming to be here. I do not want any publicity about this.’

      ‘What happened to not caring about what people think?’

      ‘Honey, I don’t care what people think about you. I do care what they think about my dad. And right now I don’t need the publicity backlash.’ Not when he was hosting the gala tonight and launching another charity event the next evening. ‘The press are already having a field day with the bagger theme.’ Amazing how many women were willing to bare their bodies and perjure their souls by lying to the tabloids.

      Resolve hardened in him. No way was all the hard work and effort he had put into the Support Myeloma charity going to waste. Not one copper penny should be diverted from the cause he championed in his mother’s memory. An image of his mother sprang to mind: pale and weak, but still with the beautiful smile that would stay with him for eternity. Those last words of love: ‘You brought me joy, baby. Remember that. Be happy. I love you.’

      Adam blinked away the memory as a small assessing frown creased the brow of his new date for the night. ‘So no matter what happens the press are not getting their grubby paws on this trumped-up story of yours.’

      His words were calculated to annoy her; a riled adversary was far more likely to slip up. ‘It is not trumped-up,’ she said, the words hissing through gritted teeth,

      Adam shrugged. ‘The papers won’t care whether it is or not; they will still have a good old grub around. Your life and your mother’s life will be taken apart with a fine toothcomb.’

      Her skin paled and wariness entered her hazel eyes. ‘I don’t want publicity, either. I just want to find your father. That’s all.’

      ‘I get that. But right now I have a charity ball to host and a reporter out there who will be very interested in who you are. So you are coming as my date.’

      She expelled a gusty sigh. ‘Fine.’

      Anyone would think he’d СКАЧАТЬ