A Date With a Billionaire

by Julianna Morris

  No to a date.

  No to friendship.

  No.

  He’d gotten spoiled over the years; he wasn’t used to hearing no. From anyone.

  But why was she saying no? Beth Cox was young and apparently unmarried, surely she must have been interested in the prize to enter the contest. And he’d recognized a healthy flash of awareness in her brandy eyes when they’d first met, so she wasn’t completely disinterested, no matter what she might say.

  “You sound pretty sure about that. Is there something you don’t like about me?” Kane asked.

  “N-no.”

  “Then why?”

  Her shoulders lifted a scant inch, then dropped. “Let’s just say I’m not in your league. Look at you, wearing an expensive suit on a warm Saturday afternoon. I mean, it’s Saturday for heaven’s sake, and you look like you’re going to a funeral.” All at once Beth bit her lip. “Uh, sorry. It’s a very nice suit.”

  “A funeral? That’s a fine thing to say.” Kane scowled, trying to decide why he was still sitting in a strange woman’s kitchen, getting insulted. Okay, so he was wearing a suit. The fact that his own family had taken to calling him a stuffed shirt did not mean he needed someone else accusing him of the same thing.

  Still, he had to admit that compared to Beth, in her comfortable T-shirt with the Mariners’ baseball team logo on it, he must seem pretty stuffy.

  “I’m really sorry,” Beth said, sounding genuinely penitent. “But you asked, and I didn’t think before I opened my mouth. Curt used to say it was my biggest fault.”

  “Who’s Curt?”

  Her eyelids flickered, almost imperceptibly. “My…fiancé. He died several years ago in a mountain climbing accident. He was part of a search and rescue team, and things went bad.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  “Anyway,” Beth said quickly, “I’m sure I look like a wreck to you. It just shows we live in two different worlds.”

  Accustomed to feminine wiles and not-so-subtle demands for compliments, Kane’s gaze narrowed thoughtfully. But if Beth was fishing for a compliment she had to be the greatest actress in the world. He couldn’t help being intrigued—it had been a long time since he’d met a woman who wasn’t trying to impress or beguile him.

  “You look fine. In fact, you have the right idea.” Kane unbuttoned the jacket of his suit and shrugged out of it. He heard her swift intake of breath and cocked his head. “Something wrong?”

  “Of course not,” she said quickly.

  The color in her eyes shifted, turning dark, all traces of gold erased, and Kane sighed. She seemed to be in her mid-twenties, which made her ten to twelve years younger than himself. Perhaps he made her nervous, and that’s why she’d decided to refuse her prize. Or it could be the loss of her fiancé, though it had happened a while in the past.

  “Miss Cox—Beth,” he said after a moment. “If you’re worried about the arrangements for the trip, I can assure you there have always been plans for separate hotel suites. It’s very respectable and aboveboard. Both KLMS and I have a reputation to maintain.”

  “Heavens, I never thought that,” she said quickly. “I’m the last woman you’d ever be interested in…in that way.”

  I’m the last woman…

  Frowning, Kane shook the ice in his glass. He didn’t understand her vehement denial. Most of the women he knew had an invincible confidence in their ability to attract a man.

  “Why do you say that?” he asked finally.

  She lifted her shoulders in another small shrug. “Your taste in women isn’t any secret.”

  “You don’t seem the type to read the society page, or what passes for it around Crockett.”

  “No, but people talk.” Beth looked down at her faded T-shirt and shorts. She wasn’t the “type” for a lot of things. She didn’t really mind, but she was realistic—she was far from pretty, and even Curt had looked at more generously endowed women with appreciation. Kane O’Rourke was accustomed to dating the most beautiful women in the world; she’d look ridiculous standing next to him.

  Kane lifted her hand and she shivered. Her skin was stained and rough from working in the garden all morning, yet compared to his hard fingers, she felt small and delicate. It was an ironic contrast, especially with a man she’d expect to have professionally manicured nails and soft hands from pushing paper for a living.

  “Maybe I am a little stuffy, but I’m a decent guy,” he said quietly. “My family will vouch for me. You can phone them if you’d like. Of course, my brothers and sisters will probably claim that I boss them around too much.” Kane gave her a self-deprecating smile. “I’m the oldest child, so it’s an occupational hazard. My sister, Shannon, says I’m not always right—I just think I am.”

  I’m the oldest.

  Beth’s heart gave an odd lurch. She would have loved being part of a large family—youngest, oldest, or in the middle, it wouldn’t have mattered. “How many in your family?” she asked.

  He grinned. “Four brothers and four sisters. And my mother, but she thinks I’m perfect. Naturally.”

  “Naturally,” Beth echoed, though she’d never known her own parents, never known what it was like to have a mother think she was perfect. But she was compelled by the warmth in Kane’s face and voice, a voice that held a trace of Irish brogue. She remembered his parents had immigrated from Ireland shortly before he was born, which probably explained the accent.

  Kane O’Rourke was the epitome of the American dream. Son of poor immigrants, skyrocketing to success and fortune with the speed of a meteor. Not only that, he’d done it with a widowed mother and all those brothers and sisters to support. And he was so handsome it took her breath away.

  Stop.

  All at once Beth shook herself and pulled her hand free from Kane’s grasp. She’d warned herself against his perceptiveness, she should have worried more about his sex appeal. It had been a long time since she’d touched a man in a way other than friendship, and long denied feelings were demanding attention.

  “It must be nice, having such a big family,” she said.

  Edgily she grabbed their two glasses and carried them to the sink. It wasn’t that she didn’t like the sensations uncurling in the pit of her stomach, she liked them too much. A steady trickle of water streamed from the faucet and Beth tried to focus on it. Another repair in the making. The little house still had its original vintage plumbing and she’d been learning how to do the repairs herself to save money. She certainly didn’t need any distractions. Her life was very full. She had friends, a partnership in a local business. Everything she needed.

  What she didn’t need was Kane O’Rourke upsetting her hard-won peace of mind. Her fingers closed around a dishrag and she scrubbed at a permanent stain on the ancient sink.

  “I don’t understand why you entered the contest, if you didn’t plan on going,” he said.

  “I didn’t enter the contest,” she said over her shoulder. “My neighbor entered me. And Carol has been yelling at me for being an idiot ever since I said I wasn’t going. Even though she’s married I think she has a crush on you.”

  I didn’t enter the contest.

  Briefly Kane wondered if he’d just been provided with an escape clause, then decided he wasn’t going there. The easiest, cleanest way out of the embarrassing situation was to convince Beth to go on her “weekend date with a billionaire, separate rooms of course,” as the radio station had billed the prize. And the next time Patrick asked for a favor he’d get tossed out on his ear.

  “Okay, but why didn’t you contact me before making your announcement?”

  Guilt, followed by irritation, flashed across her face. “I tried calling both the radio station and your company, but never heard anything back. Besides, I didn’t exactly make an announcement, the reporter just kept bugging me until I finally said I wasn’t going.”

  Damn. He would have to speak with the switchboard. His employees tried to protect him, but this time he’d missed something
that really mattered.

  “Beth, this is important,” Kane said, deciding candor was the only way to make her understand. “To be honest, I didn’t want to be a prize on the radio, but my brother Patrick owns the station and he thought it would be a good publicity stunt.”

  She turned. “Your brother owns the station?”

  “Yes. He switched to country after buying it, and they’re struggling to find a niche in the Seattle broadcasting market. Prizes are a big deal in radio and he wanted to come up with something different.”

  “So he decided on as a prize?”

  Kane wrinkled his nose. “Yeah. You know how it is with families,” he murmured. “We find ourselves agreeing to the most ridiculous favors and stuff. Not that going out with you is ridiculous,” he added as she stiffened. “But I felt ridiculous being offered as a prize, and now it’s even worse having you refuse to go on the date.”

  “You should have said no.”

  “That’s what Shannon told me.”

  “Shannon—your sister?”

  “Right.” Kane cursed to himself, wishing he understood the complex emotions on Beth’s face. Usually women were easier to classify, but he didn’t know what to make of Beth Cox…or his reaction to her. For some reason he kept looking at her small breasts and slim body far more than the situation warranted. If nothing else, she was too young and seemed far too innocent. He had a policy about innocence—no playing around with someone who could get hurt.

  He cleared his throat. “Anyway, having you turn the date down…it’s bad for the radio station. I’d give Patrick whatever he needs, but he’s determined to make it happen without my money. He got into some trouble as a teenager—after our father died—and he’s never really forgiven himself for it. I think this is his way of proving to himself that he’s changed.”

  Beth sighed. “I’m sorry about your brother, but I don’t see how me going could make any difference. Just tell him to pick someone else for the prize.”

  With an effort, Kane kept from exploding. “It doesn’t work that way. Advertisers are particularly sensitive to public relations issues, and listeners can be fickle, too. They’re already asking questions and wondering if the contest was rigged.”

  He could tell Beth was troubled by the whole thing; she obviously was a caring person. The newspaper article had said she was active in various local charities—the Crockett Family Crisis Center in particular—so making a donation might convince her it was to everyone’s advantage to play along.

  “All right,” he said slowly. “How about a donation to that crisis center you’re trying to get going?”

  “A what?”

  “A donation in exchange for you going on the date.” He pulled out his checkbook and began scribbling. Now that he thought about it, this was the best solution for everyone. No matter what people said, money did solve problems, and he had plenty.

  “That’s ridiculous.”

  “Not to me,” he said in a grim tone. Between the damaging consequences to Pat’s radio station and the embarrassment of being publicly refused, he’d be delighted to get the whole thing behind him. “So we’ll go on our date, and you can give the check to the crisis center. Just tell them to keep it private,” he added. “I’ve postdated it so it’ll look like I made the donation after our date.”

  Annoyed, Beth looked from Kane O’Rourke’s face to the slip of paper he was holding out. “You’re trying to buy me off.”

  “I’m trying to do my best to take care of everyone. Besides, I don’t think spending the weekend with me is such a terrible fate.” When she didn’t move, he put the check on the kitchen table. “We’re supposed to go to Victoria next week. I’ll have someone call with the arrangements.”

  He walked out and she clenched her fingers.

  “I’m trying to do my best to take care of everyone,” she mimicked, thoroughly annoyed. She didn’t need anyone taking care of herself; she did just fine on her own.

  Beth snatched the check to tear it up—and practically fainted. There were a whole lot of zeroes at the end of the number. It would answer all the money problems the crisis center was having, and then some. Still, men like Kane O’Rourke were too accustomed to getting what they wanted, buying and selling people without a second thought.

  The paper crumpled in her fingers and she dashed onto the porch as Kane O’Rourke reached the end of the walk.

  “Mr. O’Rourke, you’re forgetting I didn’t say yes.”

  He walked back to the porch. “You want more money?”

  “You…oh. You just snap your fingers and expect everyone to go along. Well, I am not one of your employees, and I’m not doing anything I don’t want to do.”

  Kane barely kept from grinning. Beth was like a rumpled kitten with its hackles raised, practically spitting in his face. He might not be used to hearing no, but their date would be anything but boring.

  “You’ll go,” he said confidently. “You’re intelligent and you care about the community. In the end you’ll decide the money will do too much good and that it’s worth a weekend to get it.”

  She let out a wordless shriek. “You’re an impossible, arrogant, overbearing tyrant.”

  “Yeah, but I’m a lovable tyrant,” he agreed mildly. His family had accused him of tyranny too many times for it to bother him now.

  “I could just keep the check and not go,” she threatened.

  This time he laughed. He couldn’t help it. Beth was the first spice he’d encountered in longer than he cared to remember; he’d forgotten how exciting it was to have someone—other than his family—defy him. In simpler circumstances they might have become friends, but he lived in Seattle, she lived in Crockett, and his life was too crazy for normal people.

  “You should take me seriously,” she warned.

  “I always take women seriously. Besides, I have good instincts about people, and my instincts say you’re too honest not to go on our date.”

  She looked ready to argue, so Kane leaned close and gazed into her brandy-wine eyes. He was having trouble remembering he shouldn’t kiss her. Honestly, he couldn’t understand why she interested him so much. He’d known plenty of women more beautiful and better endowed than Beth, but none of them had gotten to him so quickly—at least not since he was an overeager teenager with a thirst for curvy cheerleaders in tight sweaters.

  He tugged on the end of her braid. “Someone will be in touch, Beth. With the arrangements.”

  Her chin lifted a fraction of an inch and a devilish expression crept into her eyes. “Call yourself. I have no intention of being ‘staffed-out.’ If I hear from anyone but you, the deal’s off.”

  She meant it, too, and admiration stole through Kane. Beth was holding a check for a pretty sum in her hands—enough money to solve a truckload of problems—and she still had the nerve to lay down terms.

  Damned, if he didn’t like this woman.

  Chapter Two

  Billionaire Charms “No” Into Maybe?

  “I didn’t know you were that charming,” Shannon announced as she walked into Kane’s office late Monday morning and threw a newspaper on his desk.

  Kane sighed. “I’ve seen it.”

  Another bold title, this time with art.

  Beneath it was a picture of him looking intently into Beth Cox’s face, his hand hovering in the vicinity of her chest. To say the least, it was highly suggestive, because you couldn’t tell from the photo that he was reaching for the braid that tumbled over her shoulder. His only consolation was knowing the article had been printed in the Lifestyles section of the newspaper, rather than the front page.

  The buzzer on his desk rang and Kane pushed the intercom button. “Yes?”

  “Mr. O’Rourke, there’s a Miss Cox here to see you.” His assistant’s voice held a wealth of amusement and Kane groaned to himself.

  Great. Not only were his employees laughing their heads off, but Beth had to be upset about the invasion of her privacy. Not that he blamed her. He didn’t en
joy the notoriety that accompanied his success, either. All too often there were photographers in places meant to be private, and prying questions from people who didn’t have any business knowing the things they were asking.

  “Tell Miss Cox to come in.”

  His sister grinned broadly. “I can’t wait to see this. A woman with the guts to tell Kane O’Rourke ‘no’ has to be something else.”

  “Shannon, leave or you’re fired.”

  “You won’t fire me, you practice nepotism, remember?”

  She didn’t leave and Beth walked in, her face stormy. “It wasn’t good enough to hand me a big check, you had to set everything up with a photographer and newspeople to save your pride.”

  “That isn’t what happened.”

  “Sure it isn’t.” She flung a handful of confetti at him. “Keep your money. We don’t need it that badly.”

  Kane rounded his desk, instinctively realizing he had to deal with her on a more personal level. The truth was, he should have called the minute he saw the newspaper article, but he hadn’t known what to say. Or how she’d react.

  “I swear, I didn’t know there was a photographer out there. I was leaving the house—how would I know you’d follow me?”

  Beth hesitated. He looked sincere. Darn. All her life she’d struggled with a tendency to overreact. She’d thought it was under control, then she’d seen the newspaper and come unglued. Maybe she should have thought things out before charging into Seattle and making accusations.

  “Much as it pains me to say this, I believe him,” announced the woman sitting on the couch.

  “Who are you?” Beth asked, though she hardly needed to ask—the resemblance to Kane was unmistakable.

  “Shannon O’Rourke,” the woman said. She rose gracefully and stuck out her hand. She nodded her head toward Kane and gave Beth a comradely grin. “That big goon is my brother, and I’m his public relations director. Please don’t be too hard on him, he’s had a rough week. It isn’t easy being publicly turned down for a date.”