The Billionaire’s Handler by Jennifer Greene Read Free Book Online Page A

a job with this kind of diversity?”
    â€œNowhere, sir. There’s no doubt in my mind.”
    â€œAll right. Now…I’ll be reachable most of next week, but primarily through my laptop. I can call you back, but I won’t have a cell phone turned on, until I’m specifically looking for messages, so connection via the internet will be more predictable. I’ll be in Europe for the next four or five days—I’m not sure of the exact stretch of time. It depends on what she’s physically up for. To start off, I want to keep her away from disruptive noise as much as I can.”
    â€œBut she can’t hear, sir.”
    â€œOh, yeah, she can. She hears too much. That’sthe core of the problem, Henry. The point, however, is that I can’t give you a complete schedule of where I’ll be. I need to see how the next week goes with her. For her. Then some type of pattern should emerge.”
    â€œYou don’t need me for that week?”
    â€œI need you all week. But for projects. I’ll catch a ride on the Cochran business jet.”
    For the first time, Henry’s face showed expression. “You know I can fly that—”
    â€œYes. I know you love flying anything. But I really need someone that I can completely trust on this—someone who can keep their mouth buttoned. You’re one of the few in the universe. This is going to take some major finagling to pull off.”
    â€œPersonally, I think it takes a man who’s out of his mind, sir.”
    â€œYeah, that, too. You know, I’m surprised the sister didn’t threaten to sue—”
    â€œShe did, Mr. Cochran.” Henry looked alarmed. “Didn’t I already tell you that?
    â€œYou’d have gotten around to it. And there’ll be more problems like that, for darn sure. Don’t let it get your liver in an uproar.”
    â€œI don’t drink, sir. My liver is almost never in an uproar. On the other hand—” Henry suddenly shot to an upright posture, looking in the doorway.
    And there was Carolina, carrying a paperback, ablanket draped over her shoulders, barefoot, looking like a waif.
    A waif.
    Not a femme fatale. Not a cocky confident woman who knew her way around men and valued her own allure.
    A damn waif.
    Yet his pulse started slamming as if an alarm just went off.

Chapter Four
    C onsidering that her entire life had turned into a massive, uncontrollable disaster, Carolina couldn’t believe how well she’d slept.
    It was almost noon before she opened her eyes—and then she had to shake the clock, certain it had to be broken.
    For the first time in weeks, though, she woke up charged—maybe not ready to climb mountains—but definitely in a hustle to yank on clothes and rush downstairs.
    Halfway down the steps, she spotted Maguire sitting at the big table. One look, and her heart caught on a snag of emotion. Everything he’d told her last nighthad echoed in dreams, wild dreams, good dreams, all with the same underlying theme. She wasn’t the only kidnappee. Maguire had had his soul kidnapped a long time ago, was stuck with an unpaid ransom just as she was. She had huge things she wanted to say to him today, huge things she wanted to do.
    But abruptly she realized he wasn’t alone. Another man was standing at the kitchen counter—Henry, she thought his name was. He was the man who’d piloted the jet, but also who just seemed a critical employee for Maguire, from everything she’d sensed and seen so far. When she called out a cheerful “Hello!” though, his cheeks flushed like a boy’s.
    Henry might be ultra-shy, but Maguire surged out of his chair as if jet-shot and jogged toward her. “Carolina! I was afraid you’d gone into a coma. You have to be starved. Or thirsty. Hell, I forgot, you lost your hearing again. Wait two shakes until I grab the netbook—”
    She didn’t sway because of