Free The Billionaire's Bidding by Barbara Dunlop

to later.
    â€œFine,” he said, keeping his tone deliberately flat. “But for now we have a meeting.”
    â€œ I have a meeting.”
    He gave her a cold smile. “Sweetheart, your last solo business meeting was yesterday.”
    â€œWhy, you—”
    He cut her off with a quick kiss on her taut, tender lips. Then he drew back and dared her with his eyes, all the while raising his voice so the receptionist would hear. “Don’t worry about it. We can pick up the ring after lunch.”
    â€œI’m going to kill you,” she muttered under her breath.
    â€œLater,” he whispered. “After you give me hell for proposing to you.” Then he took her hand and turned to the friendly receptionist. “Is Mr. Murdoch ready to see us?”
    Â 
    Emma couldn’t believe Alex had crashed her business meeting. How had he found her? How had he even known to look for her? And didn’t he have his own business to run on a Monday morning?
    She felt like a fool traipsing into Clive Murdoch’s office half a step behind him. She looked like a fool, too, if Clive’s expression was anything to go by. He’d called last week to say he’d been working on a deal with her father. He wondered if she’d be taking over from here on in.
    She’d said, “absolutely.” She’d said she was at the helm, making decisions, running the company. And here Alex had cut her off at the knees.
    â€œClive,” Alex greeted brusquely, sticking out his hand.
    â€œAlex.” Clive nodded, offering a guarded handshake.
    He looked to Emma. “Ms. McKinley?”
    â€œSoon to be Mrs. Garrison,” said Alex, a definite edge of aggression in his tone.
    Emma shot him a glare. What did he think he was doing?
    â€œGood news travels fast,” said Clive.
    Alex pulled out a chair at the round meeting table, gesturing for Emma to sit in it.
    She thought about rebuffing his offer, but his expression wasn’t one to mess with. So she took the chair. She’d set him straight on business protocol later.
    â€œYet,” said Alex, still standing, that same thread of steel in his tone. “You made an appointment with my fiancée anyway.”
    â€œAlex,” Emma interrupted.
    â€œI made the appointment last week,” said Clive. His shoulders were tense, his voice hard-edged.
    â€œThings have changed since last week,” said Alex.
    â€œMr. Murdoch,” said Emma, trying to calm things down.
    â€œCall me Clive,” said Clive.
    â€œDon’t,” said Alex.
    Emma stared at him in total shock. “Will you stop this?” Then she looked at Clive. “We’re here to listen.”
    Alex’s hands closed over the back of one of the chairs. “We’re here to make a point.”
    She glared at Alex. “You don’t even know—”
    â€œMcKinley assets are not for sale. Not now. Not ever. None of them.”
    For sale? Clive hadn’t said anything about a sale.
    â€œYou haven’t even heard my offer,” Clive stated, the word sale obviously no surprise to him.
    Emma stilled. How had Alex known they were talking about a sale? She hadn’t even known they were talking about a sale.
    â€œWe don’t need to hear your offer,” said Alex. Then he reached out a hand to Emma. “In fact, we don’t need to be here at all.”
    Emma glanced back and forth between the two men as they stared each other down. What had she missed? What did Clive want to buy? Why wouldn’t Alex consider it?
    â€œCan somebody please—”
    â€œI’m your contact,” Alex informed Clive, tossing a business card on the table. “You think you have any more business with McKinley, you call me. ”
    Clive didn’t touch the card. “You walk out that door, the offer’s closed.”
    Alex shrugged, and it occurred to Emma he might be negotiating. Was this how it was normally done? Did