A Billionaire for Breakfast

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A Billionaire for Breakfast Page 4

by Mila McClung


  He stood, began to dress. “I knew I shouldn’t have told you. But I guess it’s for the best. Things might start getting dangerous. Make up some excuse and fly back to wherever you came from.”

  “Don’t you want to see me again? You said there’d be a next time.”

  He pulled her up, kissed her hard. “Oh there’ll be a next time all right. It’s taking every bit of willpower I have to keep from throwing you back down on that cot right now! I love you, Tess! I have since that first day on the beach. I never thought it’d happen that fast for a guy like me. I’ve been around, had lots of women, I won’t lie to you about it. But you did something to me. All I can think of is how I can make it work with us. But you’re his kid, and I’m sworn to bring him down. That makes it complicated.”

  “I can be strong for you, Angel.”

  “With no regrets, ever?”

  “Not one.”

  “What about your family?”

  “I love my mom. If Patrick is dangerous like you say I don’t want her marrying him. I’ll have to talk her out of it somehow. Are you certain he killed somebody? Do you have proof?”

  “I have implications, and circumstances and a whole lot of intuition.”

  “That isn’t telling me anything solid.”

  “I know. Tess, when I fell in love with you, that first day, on the beach, I was afraid then, and always, that you couldn’t accept me the way I am. I threw mixed signals at you, and I’m sorry for that. I only wanted you to love me. All that talk about hating the rich … well, I do. When I was small my parents went on a photographic safari in Africa with a bunch of shallow, so-called friends. They stepped into a poachers’ camp and were murdered. Their friends ran off, didn’t even think about trying to save them! I hated my rich parents, for dying young and leaving me. I hated their rich friends, because they couldn’t be trusted to help them. I was filled with anger and frustration and misery. My only pleasures were fishing and riding my bike. But I found I needed something to do, something with a purpose, so I became an investigator. I left the running of my parents’ company to my uncles but they’re all a bunch of sly dogs. I have to watch their every move, or they’d steal the company out from under me.”

  “Would that be so bad? You don’t need it. Why don’t you sell it?”

  “It was my dad’s.”

  “Is that the only reason you keep it?”

  “Yeah, it is. I guess I will sell it. We could live off the profits for fifty years!”

  “But what about my dad? Angel, I want to prove you wrong about Patrick. How do I go about it?”

  “Find out who killed his assistant.”

  “Tell me everything you do know.”

  “Well, her name was Gayle Stewart. She’d been his personal assistant for ten years, privy to all his secrets. He was alone with her in the pool room of the Shell House during one of those wild parties of his in December. Somehow Gayle managed to fall off the edge of the empty pool and cracked her sweet neck. He says he wasn’t there when she fell, that he came in and found her dead. But she had bruises on her body from a beating. There were rumors that they were lovers, had been for a long time but he was openly seeking a sixth wife and it wasn’t her. She got angry, there was a struggle and he threw her over the edge.”

  “No witnesses?”

  “Not a one.”

  “And Patrick doesn’t know you? Why were you at my party then?”

  “I thought if I dressed the part I could slip in. Mercer thinks he’s above suspicion, and doesn’t need security.”

  “Or maybe he just feels safe here.”

  She slipped her clothes back on while he watched her with those glistening eyes.

  “Baby, you are a dish!”

  “Ha! You sound like Bogie in a Warner Brothers’ mystery.”

  “You watch those flicks? I didn’t think anybody under fifty did, except me.”

  “I love them.” She wrapped her lean arms about his neck, tussled the black hair. “Are you real, Angel? Or did I make you up?”

  “I’m real enough. See what you’re doing to me?”

  She didn’t have to look. She could feel him growing hard against her.

  “Do I have to leave? I wish I could stay here on that cot with you all night!”

  “No, it’s too risky. I don’t want Mercer knowing about me.”

  “Oh, but Angel, I told him about you! I asked him to find you for me!”

  “What did you tell him, exactly?”

  “That I’d met a man on the beach named Angel who rode a black motorcycle and fished around Cayman Brac, and I wanted to find him again. He told me you weren’t good enough for me, that he had rich friends with nice sons I could date. What have I done? If I’ve put you in danger …”

  “No, no, don’t worry about it. Anybody could know me from the bike shop or the fishing docks. If he looked into it he’d think I was a beach bum, like you said. I better take you back to Diamond.”

  “Is he an investigator, too?”

  “Let’s just say he’s an ally. Come on, before I change my mind and rip your clothes off again!”

  “Oh, wait! Angel, I remember someone mentioning Gayle! It was Jack Leonardi!”

  “What did he say about her?”

  “He said I was looking for a rich husband, just like Gayle. He told Patrick that.”

  “What’d the old man say?”

  “I asked him who she was and he said no one important.”

  Angel’s eyes flared with an anger that frightened Tess.

  “You knew her?”

  “Yeah, I loved her … once.”

  “You loved her? You’re keeping things from me. Please tell me all of it.”

  “Gayle and I were going to be married, ten years ago, but she didn’t think I was rich enough. So, she dumped me and came down here to find somebody with more money. She wound up being Patrick Mercer’s assistant, and his lover. I followed her here, tried to make her see how stupid it was to live that kind of life. She wouldn’t listen.”

  “And you stayed here anyway, all this time, to watch over her, because you loved her?”

  “Yeah, I’m an idiot, I know. But what gets me is how I let her die. I couldn’t save her.”

  “It was her choice, Angel. She was a grown woman. No one really hired you to solve her murder case, did they?”

  “Yes, they did.”

  “Who then?”

  “Me.”

  Angel rode Tess back to Rebecca’s Cave on another bike, this one a swift Kawasaki Ninja shaded a rich cobalt blue. She clasped her hands tight about his waist as they flew up the hilly road. Her breasts were mashed against his firm back; they tingled with desire as she felt him move beneath them. Her insides were stirring; she was wet from the closeness of his hips. It was frustrating in a delicious, wicked way.

  She was disappointed when they reached the cave. He motioned for her to get off then drove off without a word though he did look back with an anguished gaze. It was tearing him apart to leave her there, but he had a job to finish and he couldn’t let her jeopardize it.

  Diamond was waiting patiently, blasting out a reggae groove on his CD Player.

  “Well, here’s my girl! Did everything go okay?”

  “Sure. Could we go back to the Shell House now?”

  “Yeah, the old man was calling, sounded pretty angry. But I told him we stayed here because of the storm. That settled his feathers a bit.”

  The boat ride to Grand Cayman was rough, the sea still choppy from brisk winds and threatening clouds. Tess hid below in a small cabin, trying to avoid nausea. And giving reign to a swell of miserable crying. All the mystery and intrigue surrounding Angel and her new father was getting to her. But she had to stay calm. Maybe if she tried she could discover whether Patrick was guilty or not on her own.

  Her phone began to hum, startling her.

  “Hello?”

  “So, finally! I was beginning to worry!”

  “Kylie?”

  “
Yes, darling. You’ve been gone all day, and I know you can’t have gone rock climbing that long! How’d it go?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I mean with Diamond! He is a beauty. So how is he in bed?”

  “You’ve got it all wrong, Kylie. We only stayed here longer because of the storms. Are Patrick and Mom angry with me?”

  “No, I calmed them down. Then that gorgeous lawyer, James Fielding, showed up with the marriage license. They’re giddy as two little lovebirds now.”

  “I can’t imagine my mother being giddy. I’m glad I’m not there.”

  “Aren’t you okay with all this, Tess?”

  “Oh, sure, I’m thrilled that they got back together. But I guess I feel cheated somehow. Mom was always so curt and unyielding with me. But suddenly she’s all light and airy and sweet as honey with him.”

  “That’s love, darling! Kind of the way I felt when I met James this morning! Oh my, what a doll! And the attraction seems mutual.”

  “Now, Kylie, remember what you told me about losing your heart?”

  “Yes, but that was when I was after billionaires.”

  “So James isn’t very wealthy?”

  “I haven’t a clue, and don’t care either way. Ha! Can you believe this is Kylie Preston talking?”

  “Not really, did somebody switch you out with a clone?”

  Kylie laughed. “Hurry on home, darling! Toodles!”

  The next day passed like a snail on valium, as the Mercer household prepared itself for a quick but gaudy wedding. Tess was frantic, trying to help out, but there were too many wrong orders, too many assignments, too many fussing phone callers demanding service.

  “God, I am so tired of this!” she screamed in her head. “If I don’t find something better to do I’m going to go nuts!”

  Kylie came out of the kitchen, carrying a mass of bouquets.

  “I’ve got to take all this out to the veranda.”

  “I didn’t send an order for them.”

  “No, I bought them myself, darling. The planner called early, said her florist ran out of white roses so I whipped up a few arrangements and told them I’d help out. It’s a wedding, and you know how much I love those!”

  She nodded, smiling.

  “Yes, I do!”

  “Poor Tess! I promised you a heart to heart talk, didn’t I? I’m just sorry things didn’t work out with that hunk. Is there a chance they still might?”

  “I don’t know. You do mean Diamond, right?”

  “Who else? Are you holding out on me?”

  “No, no. But I don’t think Patrick would approve of me dating his chauffer, anyway.”

  “It isn’t the Middle Ages, darling! If you want to see Diamond, go right ahead! I would if I wasn’t so hung up on James Fielding!”

  She flew through the house like a flowery wind, left Tess catching the scent of white roses on the air. She savored it, closed her eyes, imagining that she and Angel were standing under a rose-bedecked arbor, saying vows while a crowd cheered them on.

  The afternoon came and went; Tess shrugged, everyone else was downstairs at Patrick and Meg’s big engagement party. She had put in an appearance then took shelter in her room, a gloriously pink and white boudoir that did not appeal to her at all. She was thinking about getting a place of her own, maybe some cute little condo in George Town like some she’d seen on House Hunters International. Patrick had given her a generous bank account but she hadn’t used it yet. It was going to take awhile to get comfortable with the idea that she could go anywhere and do anything she wanted.

  Still, she was determined to help Angel dig out the truth. Once Patrick and her mom were off on their honeymoon she’d have plenty of time to search his den where he kept his files and laptop. Not that she knew what she’d be looking for.

  “What am I doing?” she asked herself. “I can’t let her marry him. What if he is a killer?”

  Then she started figuring out a new plan – how to spoil her mother’s wedding – and maybe make Margaret Milan hate her own daughter forever!

  CHAPTER FOUR

  “I can’t imagine why you’re doing this, Tess!” her mother cried. “Patrick has explained everything about Gayle Stewart. I believe him. Why don’t you?”

  “Because it’s all very mysterious, Mom.”

  “No, it isn’t. She probably jumped to her death on purpose. Patrick didn’t love her. She couldn’t handle it. It’s sad, but true.”

  “Boy, talk about doing a 180! For years you didn’t trust any man, now the one who made you that way tells you something and you believe him instantly, without question!”

  “And why do you believe whoever told you these lies, Tess? Who was it?”

  “I’m not at liberty to say.”

  “You mean you won’t say. All I know is that for the second time in my life I have a chance at real happiness. I will not let it pass me by this time!”

  With that she marched out of Tess’ bedroom and slammed the door to her own. Tess held off crying, would not allow herself to weaken. She only had twenty four hours to find out the truth. After that, her mom would be married to Patrick Mercer. But she was no Miss Marple or Jessica Fletcher. How was she supposed to figure out who the killer was?

  Her mind drifted back to Angel constantly. He had loved Gayle Stewart. Could the suspicions he had be trusted when he was so close to the victim? Maybe she wasn’t a victim. Maybe it was as her mom had said – Gayle threw herself into the empty pool because Patrick wouldn’t marry her. But why did he marry five times and not be resigned to a sixth? Tess had seen photos of Gayle on internet news sites. She was sinfully beautiful, very tall with long chestnut hair and smiling brown eyes and the fullest lips - the kind of woman no normal man could resist. Why did Patrick shun her?

  Tess was trying to come up with a plan when it hit her that the perfect time to expose everything would be the wedding day. All the players would be there; everyone who knew Gayle, even Jack Leonardi. Tess had made sure he was on the invite list. She’d sent word to Angel, through Diamond, to come as well. It would be a huge, all-day bash with the ceremony taking place at sunset. Surely somehow she could find out the answer there.

  By lunchtime most of the guests had arrived. Tess, looking radiant in a shimmering blue dress, played at being the perfect hostess, shaking hands until she thought her own would fall off. She chatted with the ladies, flirted with the men, pretending to be happy and light on such a festive occasion, when deep inside she was sick with worry and desperate to see Angel again.

  The head butler, Charvet, was announcing the name of every guest as they entered as if they were in some old movie about royalty. When he said the name Anthony Garrett, the hairs on the back of Tess’ neck tingled. She whirled around and saw Angel standing there in his tux, looking beautifully sexy. All female eyes followed him in the bright sun of the tropical afternoon – he walked straight to Tess and kissed her full on the mouth.

  When he released her she gasped for air. “Why did you do that? I thought you were keeping a low profile.”

  “I couldn’t help myself. You look good enough to eat. Take me up to your room.”

  “No, I need you to help me. We’ve got to expose Patrick before the wedding!”

  “And how do we do that?”

  “I don’t know. You’re the investigator, think of something.”

  “Baby, all I can think of is how to get that dress off of you.”

  She felt goose bumps go up her spine at his provocative suggestion. There were hours yet. They had time. She nodded, led him up the back stairs where they wouldn’t be noticed. Oddly, though, as she glanced back to see if the coast was clear, Diamond was standing in the kitchen doorway, staring at Patrick Mercer with an unaccustomed vehemence. It stunned her.

  Once inside the frilly pink boudoir, Angel flung off his jacket, unwrapped his cummerbund and unzipped his trousers. Then he hiked up Tess’ skirts and yanked her blue panties aside. She moaned as he slid into her wet fles
h, gave herself up to his thrusting without a second thought. She covered her mouth to keep from screaming as he popped a breast out of the strapless bodice and caressed it with his steaming hot lips. He backed her up against a wall, trapped her there while he kissed her and licked her and spun her into a delicious case of vertigo. The room blurred around her, she squealed in delight and glorious pleasure, coming like a gush of liquid fire. Angel growled as he felt it then reciprocated with his own blast of heat. They moved in a desperate, animal rhythm until there was nothing beyond the few square feet of space they took up in the world – just them and their cries of passion and their sweaty, prickling flesh.

  “Damn that was insane!” Angel sighed as he let her go and fell upon the bed. Tess scooted out of her dress, joined him. They stared at the teak ceiling, allowing their body temperatures to resume a calmer level. Tess watched him breathe; impulsively leaned over and kissed him again.

  “You’re the best, Angel! Or should I say Mr. Garrett?”

  “Angel is what I want you to call me. Anthony Garrett is just some name on a credit card.”

  “You mean you actually have a credit card?”

  “Sure, how do you think I got this tux, and that slick ride out in the driveway?”

  “Must be some limit on that card!” she laughed. “But Angel, seriously, are you safe being here like this?”

  “I don’t see why not. If Mercer knows about me, he hasn’t shown it. Still, I’ve got the feeling something’s up.”

  “What?”

  “I’m not sure exactly.”

  “Angel, how well do you know Diamond Scott?”

  “Pretty well, I’d say. Why?”

  “When we were coming up here I saw him staring at Patrick with sheer hatred in his eyes. I’ve never seen Diamond look like that. He’s about the most carefree, gentle spirit I’ve ever known. But now I’m wondering if it’s all an act.”

  “You can’t accept anyone on face value, Tess. The kindest, most beautiful people on the surface can turn out to be the cruelest underneath it all.”

  “Are you talking about Patrick, or Gayle?”

  “She was no sweetheart.”

  “She hurt you. I should imagine she hurt lots of men.”

 

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