Beauty And The Billionaire

maybe a hundred more times.

Truth was, Kristy’s fear had proven true. Sinclair had fallen hopelessly in love with Hunter. Hunter, on the other hand, skipped the ball to make a new business deal.

Her eyes burned while a knot of shame formed in her belly. Suddenly the designer clothes felt like zero protection for her broken heart.

She should have stuck with her regular wardrobe. Beneath her skirts and blazers and sensible blouses, she was in control of her world. People saw what she wanted them to see, and they respected what she represented. She was a fool to think she could beat Chantal at her own game. And she was a fool to think she could hold on to Hunter.

Reckless and impulsive. She’d heard those words so many times. There was nothing Sinclair could offer him that would compare to a high-risk, hundred-million-dollar deal in London at midnight.

She stepped away from the alcove, determined to get this horrible evening over with as soon as possible.

Twelve

The jets taking off from JFK squealed above Hunter’s head as his driver circled his way through the terminals. He had his PDA set to calculator, running the numbers he knew he needed banking software to properly compute.

But the mini screen kept blurring in front of his eyes. He was seeing Sinclair in her white and red dress. The piping along the neckline. The teardrop diamonds. The ruby neck lace. Her expression when she’d realized the massive ruby was real.

He chuckled at that, particularly the part where he realized she still liked the goldfish bracelet better.

He wondered if she’d worn it tonight.

He wondered if she’d got her makeup just right.

Had her hair behaved?

Were her feet getting tired?

She’d gamely practiced for hours in those high shoes, but he knew she didn’t like them.

He wondered who she was dancing with right now, and quickly acknowledged that he cared. Something pulled tight inside him at the image of someone else holding her, their broad hand splayed across her back, another man’s jacket nearly brushing her breasts, the jerk’s lips whispering secrets into her ear.

If he was in the room, he’d probably rip her from the guy’s arms.

His cell phone beeped.

“Hunter Osland,” he greeted.

“Hey, Hunter.”

“Sinclair?” His heart lifted.

“It’s Kristy.”

“Oh.”

“Were you expecting Sinclair?”

“No.”

“Because I think she’s at that ball tonight.”

“She is.” He shifted in the backseat of the car. All alone at the ball.

“I just talked to Jack,” said Kristy.

Sinclair was all alone, because Hunter had let her down.

“Jack’s cell was running low on battery power,” Kristy continued.

It wasn’t like he’d had a choice. Osland International needed him, and his grandfather was always after him to be more dependable. That’s what he was doing by helping Jack.

“Jack wants you to call Richard for him.”

This was being dependable-and patient and methodical. Those were the other things his grandfather wanted.

Kristy’s words rambled together on the other end of the phone without making a whole lot of sense. “He said you’d know why.”

Though he’d also been patient and methodical when he convinced Sinclair to get a makeover, then when he took her to Europe, then when he bought her clothes, then when he taught her to dance. He also made sure she was completely ready to face Roger and the rest of Lush Beauty.

“Hunter?” prompted Kristy.

And…then he’d abandoned her for the first exciting project that came along.

Oh no.

He pictured her in his mind, stunningly gorgeous and all alone, other men circling like wolves.

Was he out of his mind?

“No!”

“What?” came Kristy’s worried voice.

The Sinclair project wasn’t over. There were things left to do for her. A whole lot of things left to for her, patient and methodical things left to do for her, some of them involving the rest of their natural lives.

“Hunter? What’s going on.”

“Tell Jack I’m sorry.”

“Huh?”

“Tell him I can’t call Richard. I can’t go to London. If he can’t work it out himself, well, tell him there’ll be other cruise ships.”

“Other cruise ships?” Kristy parroted in confusion.

“For once in my life I’m not going to be reckless and impulsive. I’m going to be dependable.” Why hadn’t he thought about that before? He was such a fool.

“What are you talking about?” Kristy was obviously trying to be patient.

“I have to go see Sinclair.”

“How’d Sinclair get into this?”

“Because,” Hunter hesitated. Part of him didn’t want to say it out loud, and part of him wanted to shout it from the rooftops. “I’m in love with your sister,” he admitted to Kristy. “I’ll have to call you back.”

Then he disconnected and caught the driver’s amused gaze in the rearview mirror.

“The Roosevelt Hotel,” he hollered.

The driver’s face broke into a full fledged grin.

“No, wait,” said Hunter. “Make it the apartment. I have to change.”

If he was going to do this, he was going to do it right.

It was Sinclair’s job to stay for the entire ball, not to mention the after party at the Castlebay Spa. While the orchestra played on, she looked longingly at her watch, then over to the exit. Maybe she could lay low in the lobby for a while. At least then she wouldn’t have to dance with men she’d rather be talking promotions and P and L statements with.

What was it about a pretty dress and bit of makeup that turned men into babbling idiots? And why didn’t Chantal care? Her life must be exhausting.

Mind made up, Sinclair headed for the lobby exit. At the very least, she deserved a break.

“Going somewhere, Sinclair?”

She whirled toward the familiar voice, sure her mind must be playing tricks.

He was dressed in a classic black tux, with a black bow tie and a matching cummerbund. His hair was perfect, his face freshly shaven, and his smile was the most wonderful thing she’d seen all day.

“I thought you’d be on the jet,” she blurted out.

“I changed my mind.”

“About going to London?”

“About a lot of things.” He held out his arm. “Dance?”

Her spirit lifted, but her heart ached. Still, there was no way she’d turn him down.