Free A Billionaire for Breakfast by Mila McClung Page B

mother, unbelieving at the coldness in her voice.
    “Fine, I’ll look for another place, when
I get back!”
    “You do that!”
    Now, sitting there with Kylie on the
back seat of the limo, Tess recalled the harsh words her mother had said. She
had an urge to call her but she refused to give in to it. For once, let Carol
do the calling, and the apologizing. Tess was through being a doormat.
    The ride to the rental house was slow
and luxurious. The limo had a built-in bar and snack counter stocked with
several fresh seafood appetizers and dainty alcoholic wonders all dressed up
with delightful little parasols. Kylie imbibed freely but Tess decided to sip a
bit of something here and nibble on something small there – she didn’t want to
gain any weight on this trip or lose her common sense in a drunken haze.
    “Loosen up, Tess!” Kylie commanded.
“You only live once!”
    “I’m loose enough, Kylie. I want to
keep my head in all this. And my dignity.”
    “I know what my limitations are, how
much liquor I can hold. I intend to keep my dignity, too, you know. Rich men
aren’t interested in slobs full of wine!”
    The car pulled up to a blindingly
white house perched over a verdant hill like an elegant bird attempting to take
flight.
    “Wow! It’s beautiful!”
    “Shh!” Kylie warned. “Don’t let the
driver hear your enthusiasm. We’re supposed to be jaded world travelers.”
    “I could never be so jaded that I
wouldn’t appreciate this! And it’s ours, for two whole weeks?”
    “Or longer, hopefully, if we make the
right connections.”
    After a quick shower Tess slipped on
a teal blue sundress and matching heels, and waited for Kylie to join her on the
wide veranda.
    The sky was glistening, with not a
shred of clouds. The sea was a buoyant blue, beckoning her down to the beach.
She glanced at Kylie’s door.
    “Ready yet?” she called.
    “In a minute!” Kylie shouted.
    Tess shrugged, took the swirling steps
down to the crystalline sand. She shed her heels, left soft footprints behind
her as she explored the rambling shoreline. Gulls cried hello above her,
dolphins leapt out of the water as if welcoming her. Tourists waved from their
colorful perches as they went parasailing or from their fishing boats or jet
skis. A few yachts eased by, the on-deck crews sending her wistful glances and
encouraging smiles.
    “Lots of cool guys down here,” she
found herself thinking. “Does the right one have to be a billionaire?”
    There was a screeching noise just to
her left. She turned, holding her heart in shock, as she watched a black
motorcycle fly over her head and land abruptly in a mound of sand. But where
was the driver? She quickly scanned the grassy area beneath the hilltop road.
He was there, lying in a ditch.
    Tess ran to him; began to examine him
for injuries. There weren’t any, but what she saw there disturbed her all the
same. He was insanely handsome, with chin length, naturally blue-black hair,
and a rugged, tanned body that oozed “Come take me. ” from every pore. And his eyes –
whoa – when he looked up at her she thought her heart had stopped completely –
they were green with strange flecks of blue that made them glitter like jewels.
    “Are you okay?”
    “Sure, just a skinned elbow and a
sore bum. Serves me right for thinking I could make that curve at 100 miles per
hour! I’ve never seen you. What’s your name?”
    “Tess Jenkins.” She was shy under the
heat of his stare. You’d think he had never seen a girl before.
    “That’s a plain, solid kind of name.”
    “Yeah, I guess it is.”
    He stood up, brushed off his faded
jeans. He was wearing a pair of worn out Converse sneakers but no shirt. Tess
tried not to follow the sinuous lines of his torso down to the bulge in his
crotch but it was almost impossible.
    “You live around here, Tess?”
    “Yes, I’m staying at the white house
down the beach.”
    “Ah, the Swan House; so I guess
you’re one of those Jet Set