The Billionaire's Betrayal (Highest Bidder #3) - Carmen Falcone Page 0,19

was what you said it’d be. One night.”

“One night,” he said, with the enthusiasm of receiving a death sentence. A night he wouldn’t mind repeating again and again, even if he damn well knew he couldn’t get further involved with her. “That’s right. Well, the young man I’m thinking of works at a different ranch. So we’ll have to drive for a couple hours.”

“Sounds good.”

“I need to finish some stuff, then we can go.”

“I’ll be on the patio. Just come get me when you’re ready.”

If only it were that easy.

She sauntered out of his office and closed the door behind her. Well, at least he was making some progress. Not about what had happened to Pamela directly, but he’d gained Alexa’s trust. What if she told him more personal stuff? What if he managed to get access to her office in Nevada?

He flicked his screen on again, rereading the information he found about her. Alexa had fled her stepfather, probably scared and definitely alone. How many times had he considered fleeing his home as a young boy? Too many.

He reached for his wallet and opened it, grabbing the picture of Pamela. Even though he was five years her senior, she had been his best friend—the daughter of the housekeeper. She’d understood him, loved him, had made his sour days a tad sweeter. He’d always known she was like a little sister to him—but the discovery that they shared DNA had shocked him.

And his mother, who certainly knew her husband was no saint, but had never expected him to impregnate someone. His mother had chosen to live in denial, no doubt.

Gina did her usual quick knock before walking into his office. “Hey, boss?”

“I could be on an important call,” he said, annoyed. Snarky remarks usually got him nowhere where Gina was concerned, and her attitude and spirit reminded him of the housekeeper he’d grown up with. Pamela’s mother. The one his father had bedded for fun, and then ended up destroying both families.

“I just wanted to say…I talked to her this morning. Alexa.”

“Noted. Anything else?”

She tapped her fingers on her apron, shortening the gap between them. “She had breakfast earlier and asked some questions about you.”

He scratched his chin, a chilly sensation sensitizing his scalp and putting him on high alert. “What kind of questions?”

“Oh, stuff like, how often you come here.”

Interesting. Had Alexa used the opportunity to gather information about him, or had it been small talk? Why would she want to go behind his back, though? Didn’t make sense. “What else?”

Gina tapped her fingers on a shelf. “If you brought a lot of women here.”

The apprehension vanished, and he relaxed his shoulders. A measure of joy flew through him. There’s nothing to worry about. I’m the lying bastard, not her. “What did you say?”

“I said she shouldn’t worry about these things,” she said. “Then she nodded and changed the subject.”

“All right. Thanks for letting me know.”

Gina did a semi-eye roll, the silent reminder she hated to be dismissed. “Look, I agreed on not mentioning anything about Pamela for God knows why. But I don’t want to lie about other stuff. There’s something about her that seems genuine.”

“Really?”

“Yes. And you should give her a chance.”

“What makes you think I’m not?” he asked in a teasing tone. Even if Alexa proved at the end she had not directly been involved in Pamela’s death…she had been an accessory to it. She had offered his troubled sister a place to sell her body, and how could he forget that? Besides, she gave other women a platform to sell their bodies, and he couldn’t be onboard with that. Hit too close to home to date her. Or maybe he was an old-fashioned schmuck like his father. Bile rose to his throat, and he brushed the thought aside.

“There’s something holding you back. I can feel it.”

He waved her off. His gut clenched, a part of him desperate to talk to someone, to confide. But discussing it would only cause more problems. Gina was a good soul, but not equipped to deal with this kind of conundrum. “Thanks for the free therapy session.”

She walked up to the door and grabbed the handle, tossing him a sassy look behind her shoulder. “Who said it was free?”

…

“Are you interested?” A rush of adrenaline flowed through Alexa’s veins. Scott, the nineteen-year-old they visited at one of Brooks’s other farms, fit the bill. For the past two hours, they’d chatted with ease, and he’d shown smarts to go along with