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One Night with a Billionaire
-- EXCERPT: When the front bell jingles, at first, I think I imagined it. There are never any customers this time of year because the store caters to tourists, not locals, and tourists don’t show up until spring break. Still, I stand on my tiptoes, cursing being height-challenged to peek over the rows of clothing racks to be sure, and that’s when I see him. And God bless America, he’s hot. With the front of his jet-black hair styled perfectly, a clean-shaven face, wearing a blue dress shirt and an undone navy tie, the tall man with massive shoulders strolls in the same way all the rich assholes do – like he owns the place. He doesn’t. Danny Denning is the man who owns this store and two others just like it up and down the coast. He’s a grouchy old man with a hunchback. Dammit, I’m so distracted by the customer’s sexy swagger that I temporarily forget that I hate men, especially gorgeous, rich ones like this guy and Braxton Walker. I’ve wasted too much time. It’s too late to make a run for the counter to put some space between us. Nope, I have to stand my ground surrounded by the buy one get one free beach towels when the hottie asks, “Hey, how’s it going? Where’s your swimwear?” That’s right. He doesn’t actually ask the first question like he cares how I am. Nope, he just uses it to pretend he has good manners when I have no doubt he’s a pretentious jerk. Which is why I make the split-second decision to lie to him on the second question. “Right this way,” I say as I lead him over to the section of racks a few feet away. I’m almost certain I can feel his eyes staring at my ass in my jeans. That’s why I grab the smallest size on the rack and hold them out to him. “Here you go.” One incredibly sexy black eyebrow arches, and I realize he’s standing even closer than I expected, so close that I can see the swirls of gold in his warm dark chocolate eyes. “Those are little boy’s speedos.” “Yes, they are,” I say. “Isn’t that what you wanted?” “I’m gonna need something significantly bigger.” No, Siena. Don’t go down this road. Don’t do it. Don’t flirt! “How much bigger?” I ask, despite knowing better. His perfect, beautiful face is even more appealing when he smiles, making two very deep dimples appear in his cheeks. Then he opens his mouth. “Want to go in the back and find out?”
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