Read Online The Billionaire's Bauble by Ann Montclair - Free Book Online Page A

sure no one got too drunk or too friendly, right?”
    “You got it.” She seemed surprised at his cognizance. “That was my occupation that evening. I don’t drink much, and I can be tough when I need to be.”
    “I bet,” David grinned into her now pensive face.
    “… but there I was, and there you were. And the way you looked at me, the way I felt . . . It gave me hope. It made me think that somewhere in this world I would find my soul mate.” Sloane looked at him with such open admission, her heart bared, it almost hurt to look at her. This woman wanted a soul mate, and she thought he might be the one.
    Ludicrous. He had never even been in love. How could he be anyone’s soul mate? He didn’t even understand the concept. His disbelief must have shown in his eyes because she suddenly looked wilted, like he’d stepped on her story and made fun of it with his silence, with his skeptical glance. He felt like a cad.
    “Sloane, when I met you that night, I was blown away, too.” What did he just say? He meant to tell her he doubted her logic, but instead . . .
    “I had never met a woman who reeled me in and made me feel good about being caught.”
    She gasped, open-mouthed, then shook her finger playfully at him.
    “I didn’t reel you in. You did it to me. You stared at me for hours. I had to give you a chance.” She smiled coyly, and his heart raced again. If she kept this up, he was going to have to make love to her just to regain his composure.
    Sloane sat with her hands laid flat, palms down on either side of her plate. She said, “Listen, I always say too much. My daddy told me I need to shut the barn door once in a while.”
    “I like the way you speak, the things you say. I typically don’t listen as well as I should, but with you it comes easy,” David admitted.
    He wanted to keep speaking. He wanted to tell her everything she wanted to know. If he stopped talking now, he would have to carry her upstairs and take that beautiful green dress off her alluring body.
    Sloane sat trying to appear relaxed, good natured. She held her palms flat, making sure they didn’t shake like Jell-O. Inside, she was quaking with what she had said. She’d practically announced she believed him to be her soul mate, and he didn’t run away. He didn’t leap over the table and declare her his true love either, but he also refrained from leering at her like the big bad wolf come to dinner. He took a punch well, she decided.
    He sat there, and his mouth moved like it had bees inside. She wondered what he was trying to work up the nerve to say. She guessed.
    “David, I’m sorry that my accident brought back bad memories about your mom. How old were you when she passed?”
    He looked down at his plate, and Sloane could see a tick work its way into his square jaw.
    “The last time I saw her I was 11 years old. I was away at boarding school when I found out about the car wreck. I came home for the funeral, but it was closed casket. My dad said the accident was bad, awful, so . . .” He shrugged his shoulders cavalierly, and Sloane’s heart almost broke. She could see the stricken little boy despite the decades that had passed.
    “Where’s your dad? Does he work with you at Grant?”
    David laughed but it sounded like nails on a chalkboard, grating, derisive.
    “He died, too, about five years ago. We were never close. He remarried and divorced a few times over the years, and I attended school then college far away from his various families. I’m his only child, but I had stepbrothers and stepsisters I never knew along the way. Grant Oil is my dad’s real legacy, and I’m still trying to make him proud.”
    Resignation shone in his sable eyes, and Sloane wanted to hug him. She stood up and went round the table. She stood behind him and put her hands on his shoulders, so hard, so strong. “You’ve had the weight of the world on these for a long time.” She rubbed them gently, trying to relieve the stress she felt