One Night With a Billionaire - By VickiLewis Thompson Page 0,2
His handshake was warm, firm, and giving her goose bumps. She was really sorry when the handshake was over. “I’m Melanie Shaw.”
“Pleased to meet you, Miss Melanie. I wish it had been under different circumstances.”
“Me, too.” If he was related to the Eldridge family Astrid knew, Melanie wouldn’t have been likely to meet him under any circumstances, unless she was with Astrid, who moved in those circles. “Are you from Dallas?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“Then you might know a friend of mine, Astrid Lindberg.”
“Astrid Lindberg?” He chuckled. “I haven’t seen her in a coon’s age. We were at the same equestrian camp one summer, although she was with the younger kids. Some old horse tried to run off with her and I was handy. I was worried she’d swear off riding, but she didn’t.”
“She sure didn’t.” Melanie noticed that although Drew had come to Astrid’s rescue, he downplayed his role by saying he was handy. “She’s a large-animal vet now.”
“Is she? That’s great.”
“So are you here on business?” Melanie imagined multinational deals involving millions. From what she could recall, the Eldridge family was loaded.
“Some business. Some pleasure.”
“Ah.” So the multinational deal-making was followed by glittering parties and sophisticated French women who never wore gym shoes with their regular clothes. Yet he’d interrupted all that to help a stranger from home. “Listen, I really appreciate all you’ve done. I’m sure I’ve screwed up your morning and you’re too polite to say so.”
“Nope. It’s a sunny day and I’d decided to—” A soft chime interrupted whatever he’d been about to say. “Excuse me.” Taking out his phone, he glanced at the readout. “I should take this.” He stood and walked a few feet away.
Hanging out with such a good-looking guy was a heady experience that kept her adrenaline pumping, so she was relieved to have a few moments alone to gather her thoughts. If not for her friendship with Astrid, she might have been intimidated by someone like Drew Eldridge. As it was, she was simply grateful. And a little turned on, which served as a great antidote to worrying about losing her stuff.
Having Drew show up was a stroke of luck. Someone with his wealth would have an international calling plan. If she didn’t pay him back until she got home, he probably wouldn’t care. Once he was off the phone, she would ask to make a call. Val had a key to her apartment and could retrieve her credit card information.
The police arrived right after Drew ended his call, so she didn’t have a chance to borrow the phone. Thank God Drew was there to guide her through the process, though. After the officers left, she glanced up at him. “Do you think they’ll recover my backpack?”
“There’s always a chance.”
“But not a very good one, right?”
“I won’t lie to you, Melanie. They may find your backpack, although I figure it’s in a dumpster by now. But the contents . . .” He shrugged. “Not likely.”
“Speaking of those contents, could I please borrow your phone to call my friend Valerie back home? She can access my credit card info so I can cancel my cards.”
“Yes, ma’am, you sure can. Tell you what. I’ll give you a lift back to your hotel so you can doctor those hands. You can call your friend on the way there.”
“You have a car?”
“I do.”
Silly of her to think he’d be on foot, like she was. “You know, that’s a lovely offer, but my hotel isn’t very far away.” That wasn’t quite true. She’d walked at least ten blocks to get here. “I’ll just borrow your phone for a minute. I’ve taken up too much of your valuable time already.”
“Sorry, but my mama raised me better than that. You’ve suffered a shock, and I intend to see you safely back to your hotel.”
Oh, wow. He not only looked like a god, he knew the right things to say to make a girl melt into a puddle. She’d be a fool to resist a display of gentlemanly manners by a heroic figure like Drew, especially when she’d just been mugged by two guys from the shallow end of the gene pool. “Thank you. That would be wonderful. Where are you parked?”
“In a garage.” He pulled out his phone, punched a speed-dial number, and said something in French. Then he tucked the phone away again. “Henri’s on his way.”
“Henri?”
“My driver.”
“Oh.” Of course he’d have a driver on call. She’d have to remember all the details of this adventure to tell Astrid