A Billionaire Between the Sheets by Katie Lane Read Free Book Online Page B

her garage, she ground the gears and almost ran over her trash bins. The sight of them at the curb had her glancing around to see if any neighbors were waiting to be thanked for putting out her trash. But the only person she saw was the guy who sold lemon juicers to the tourists on Fisherman’s Wharf. He hurried down the street, pulling his roller suitcase of juicers behind him.
    He had to live somewhere close by because she saw him almost every day, although she couldn’t see him making enough on lemon juicers to afford to live in the wealthy neighborhood. She would think he was a street person if not for the quality of his coat and pants. Even his Nikes looked new. When she drove past and waved, he ducked his head and ignored her. She should really buy a juicer from him. Maybe she would get one for her mother as well. Deirdre loved kitchen gadgets. Thinking of her mother, Olivia tapped the screen on the dashboard.
    After a few trilling rings, her mother’s voice came through the Bose speakers.
    “When are you coming to get this woman?”
    “Today.” Olivia stifled a yawn. Her sleep the last two nights had been plagued by nightmares. Not about being eaten alive by mosquitoes or death-rolled by an alligator, but about showing her panties to Deacon Beaumont and him laughing hysterically. Of course the nightmares weren’t any worse than the daydreams that kept popping up since she left Louisiana. Daydreams about Deacon’s body. Even now it was hard to blink the image of his manly muscles and lightly furred chest away. “So how is Babette this morning?” Olivia asked. “Has she gotten any work done?”
    “It appears so. She spent all day yesterday scribbling on some design or another.”
    “That’s great.” Olivia passed a Starbucks and struggled with the strong desire to turn in. But since she was already late, her caffeine hit would have to wait until she got to work. “Tell her I’ll send a car to pick her up this afternoon. And as soon as I call a board meeting and present her designs, she can start working with the designers at French Kiss.”
    “As if the woman can work with anyone,” her mother said. “And instead of sending a car for her, why don’t you come and pick her up yourself? I’d like to see you.”
    “I’d love to, Mother, but now that the Beaumonts have signed over their shares of the company, there’s just too much to get done. What about if we have lunch this weekend?”
    “Fine. And afterwards you can help me go through some of Michael’s things. If the house sells quickly, we’ll need to have it done. Although it’s a shame to sell the house when it would be a perfect home for you to start a family.”
    The comment took Olivia completely by surprise. “A family?”
    “Don’t act like you don’t know what a family is, Olivia. Yours wasn’t conventional—what with your father running off and you having a workaholic stepfather who ran the largest lingerie company in the world—but you certainly don’t want to end up like Regina Longley’s daughter, who has to hire men to escort her to social events. You need a husband. Even if for nothing more than arm decoration.”
    “I have a boyfriend, Mother.”
    “That young man who works at French Kiss? Does he have money?”
    “I don’t have a clue. I don’t plan to marry for money.” In fact Olivia didn’t plan to marry at all. She had enough complications in her life.
    “Don’t be ridiculous, Olivia Harrington. I won’t have you marrying some yuppie businessman with nothing more than a 401(k). Do you know anything about this Parker’s family?”
    Olivia opened her mouth and then closed it when she realized that she didn’t know anything about Parker’s family. Not one thing. She didn’t know if his parents were living. If he had siblings. Or even a dog.
    A faint stream of French words came through the speakers before her mother spoke. “I think you owe me more than lunch for putting up with this French tyrant.”