Billionaire's Love Suite by Catherine Lanigan Read Free Book Online Page B

“Shall we go over this list
you sent to me on Wednesday?” he asked holding out a file.
    Shana nodded her head in a clipped, business-like fashion. They had put
the past behind them.
    “I think we should start with the recommendations I’ve made for the
suites themselves,” Shana said flatly. “I’d like the bedding to be executed
in sateen sheets in golds and creams. All the beds should have Hungarian
goose down comforters rather than bedspreads. Goose down pillows should
be standard with non-allergenic pillows stored in the closets as an option.
Baths in aqua blue paint, white marble floors and old-style medicine cabinets
with sconce lighting rather than hanging mirrors.”
    Justin watched her as she continued her litany of preferred design
changes. He knew the marble floors would up the budget, but as she spoke
and described the layouts, he knew her vision was dead on. All he could do
was marvel.
    They finished their meeting and Justin stood and held out his hand to
her.
    “Your concepts are good, Shana. We’ll talk later.”
    She took his hand.
    It was meant to be a business handshake. People did it every day in
countries all over the world. It was a goodwill gesture. It was not meant to
elicit shock waves of sensual pleasure, but Shana felt every tingle as if she’d
stuck her finger in a light socket.
    Had she actually jumped?
    Shana retracted her hand and lifted her chin with an ever-so-slight air of
haughtiness that she used to cover her embarrassment.
    “I’ll be in my office,” she managed to say over the fuzz she felt clogging
her brain. She looked at Justin and for an instant, he looked dazed.
    She blinked.
    He blinked.
    Shana realized that Justin had seen her jump. He must absolutely know
that she was affected by his touch.
    Then he smiled.
    Oh, God. I’m doomed. He knows I’m thinking about the kiss again .
    Shana turned on her fashionable high-heeled shoes and walked across
the Persian rug that had been loomed especially for the outsized room. No
matter how quickly she walked, the office door kept moving away from
her like one of those scenes in a horror movie. At last, her hand reached the
doorknob and she turned it. This time when she turned around to look at
him, she didn’t have any sassy defiant words to throw at him and no towel
to drop.
    On the mental tally sheet she kept, Justin had won this round. Shana
made a vow that it would be the last win in his column.
     

CHAPTER FOUR

    J ustin was all too familiar with the glittering glass and steel offices of
Leon Turnbull, the sharp shooter of all Manhattan contractual attorneys.
The day after his father’s death, he’d consulted Leon about the feasibility
of breaking Peter Yates’ contract with Felicity Cummings, then Director of
Operations for the Lux Hotel Chain.
    The flash of Felicity’s exquisite face and flawless body across his mind
created an acrid taste in his mouth like he’d just tasted poison.
    Felicity had come onto Justin like a bullet train. From the minute they
were introduced in Peter’s office, no less, she’d let Justin know she wanted
him. He’d reciprocated. It took less than two months for Felicity’s devious
intentions to show and she waved them like a battle flag. She told Justin she
was pregnant and produced a doctor’s report to prove it. For a brief week,
Justin had been taken in by it all. During his momentary flash of insanity,
he’d actually thought the idea of child of his own was something he wanted.
The problem was that the child was part Felicity. He realized as he listened
to her talk that her requests were cleverly disguised “demands” and
nearly all her “dreams of their future” were underscored by his ability to pay
through the nose for her upkeep and that of her child. Justin was immediately
suspicious. Justin got a court order to demand another pregnancy test.
Felicity failed. When he confronted her with the truth, she continued to lie.
    In a