The Tycoon Meets His Match by Barbara Benedict Read Free Book Online Page A

business. Lucie was bound to run out of cash sooner or later, and she’d eventually call for help. Just like she always did.
    Jack had carefully omitted all mention of the looming crisis at their Dallas subsidiary, another encouragement to race home. Rhys might have panicked, but, having had the foresight to ship his laptop to Miami, he was able to detect and correct the problem quickly by remote. He’d been working on his laptop while waiting for his flight, but due to his recent lack of sleep, his eyes were now dry and scratchy. Rubbing them briskly, he nearly missed the blur of dark-red hair dashing past.
    He blinked hard, certain his weary eyes had to be deceiving him.
    But no, it was Trae. Her hips were now adequately covered by a snug pair of black jeans, with a sedate green silk blouse draping her upper torso. She nonetheless managed to exude a sultry sexiness as she raced to the gate across the way.
    Sitting up straight, Rhys checked the board for her destination. New Orleans. Departing at ten-fifty-five. Alert now, he watched Trae thrust a boarding pass at the waiting attendant, who ushered her into the tunnel before promptly shutting the door behind her.
    Determined not to let her get the advantage, he jumped up and raced to the counter. Too late to get on that flight, but he meant to be on the next plane to New Orleans.

    “Bobby? Nah, he ain’t here.”
    Stifling a groan, Trae stared at Bobby’s cousin, Beau Boudreaux. From his greasy brown hair and unshaven face, to the questionable stains on his jeans and gray sleeveless sweatshirt, he could be the poster child for Skid Row International. At two in the morning, she found it no easy task to decipher his soft, slurred speech from six feet away—the minimum distance required to prevent his pawing her. “Okay,” she tried again. “Are you expecting him back any time soon?”
    Swaying slightly, Beau stared blankly, as if her words couldn’t quite penetrate his fog. “Who?”
    “Bobby. Remember, I asked if I could see him?”
    “Yeah. Yeah, right. Nah, you can’t.”
    “What do you mean, I can’t?”
    “I mean he ain’t here. And he ain’t coming home for a while. Went off to Hollywood. Back in May. No, April. May. Yeah, May.” He scratched his head, obviously continuing to debate, in his thoughts, the actual month of Bobby’s departure.
    “Bobby’s in California?”
    “Yeah, making movies.” He grinned, blatantly happy to move on to a new topic. “Ain’t that a hoot and a half? With his looks and all, most folk hereabouts always thought he’d be starring in pictures one day. Nobody guessed he’d be making them instead.”
    He leaned forward, as if to impart an important secret. Trae instinctively took a step backward.
    “Film production, that’s his thing now. My little cousin has himself a backer, some guy with more money than he knows what to do with, willing to bank money on his genius. Out there on the coast, that’s where y’all find Bobby. Living the good life, mooching off some rich dude up in Beverly Hills.”
    “I don’t suppose you have an address?”
    “Matter of fact, I sure do.” Reaching behind his apartment door, Beau grinned as he pulled a ragged piece of paper from a drawer. “Wrote it down to give to Aunt Livie. Says she wants to mail Bobby a birthday present, but ’tween you and me, I’m betting she’s out to snoop. You know Aunt Livie.”
    Trae didn’t, but saw no reason to prolong their conversation. Snatching the paper from Beau’s none-too-steady hand, she stuffed it in her pocket. “I don’t suppose he took anyone with him?” she asked, to distract him from noticing that she’d taken his paper.
    Beau shook his head, the grin sliding into a leer. “Plenty of chicks wanted to go, though. Especially that blond that came looking for him a day or so back. Pretty little thing. Man, wouldn’t I love to get a…”
    “You said blond?”
    With visible effort, Beau did his best to focus.