Babysitting the Billionaire Read Online Free PDF

married.”
    “A beard. He liked men; I liked women.”
    “So the bereaved widow, all an act?”
    “I did love him, and I still miss him. But I didn’t fuck
him.”
    May watched his glass rise as he lifted it, as he took a
small sip, and lingered on his mouth as she heard the glass clink back onto the
table. He was pressing his lips so tightly together she was sure they’d have a
crease.
    “I see.”
    She raised her eyes to his. He was concentrating on the
glass. Then he looked up but past them, to his left. Remembering?
    Sadie’s entrance did not faze him, but the senator
sighed her relief. Sadie’s gaze flicked across all their faces as she stepped
past May to hand the drink to the senator.
    Lindell took the drink, and grabbed onto Sadie’s hand
with her other hand. “You didn’t tell me it was Boris Kurcki.”
    “Boris?” Sadie’s gaze flashed across the table, to the ruggedly
handsome, abstracted man who sat there. “But he’s not coltish at all.”
    “Not anymore,” the senator said, draining her drink.
“Get me another.”
    Sadie frowned. “You have a dinner speech later.”
    The senator leveled a chilling glance at her, and after
a long moment, Sadie slipped back toward the door.
    May followed Beau’s gaze following Sadie to the door,
settling on the door as she closed it again. Flashing back to the senator.
    “The penguin’s flack?”
    “I had no idea it was you behind Cranky Penguins.
Brilliant. Kurck is the common spelling?”
    He passed a hand across his eyes.
    The senator turned to May. “He’s all yours, sweetie. And
I don’t need to remind you, do I, that this conversation is confidential? Sadie
would not be pleased if anything were to leak.”
    “Of course. Senator,” May remembered to add at the last
minute.
    “Think I’ll take that drink at the bar.” Lindell pressed
her hands on the table to push to a stand. Beau, too, pushed up to stand,
swaying slightly. May scrambled to her feet and out of the way.
    The senator held her hand out across the table. Beau shook
it, a pitiful shadow of what May knew he’d wanted.
    “I am proud of you, Beau. I wish you all the best.” Jane
Lindell’s step grew firmer with each step toward the door. May held it open for
her, and by the time she was through it she was The Senator again.
    May heard her assignment slump back into his chair.
    “You want to be alone for a minute?”
    “No. Come, sit next to me, like you did for her.”
    With one more longing look at the outside, happy world,
May shut the door on it. She grabbed her glass and pushed the platter of
pitchers closer to Beau. He lifted the margarita pitcher and refilled his
glass. He held it up for her, and she set her glass on the table for him to top
hers off.
    She pulled the rolling chair next to him out, trying to
ever-so-subtly move it a little farther from him and that aura of masculine
despair. But since the aura filled the room, it was rather a lame gesture. She
sat down and opened her mouth to say—what?
    “Just sit. And drink.”
    May pulled out her phone. “Just texting Sadie that she
doesn’t need to come back.”
    He grunted. “Understatement.”
    Sadie’s reply was almost immediate: Buy food, booze, anything. Fdn will reimburse. Or we will .
    Kurck’s face was too still. If he wasn’t pouring,
lifting, and sipping heartily of the margaritas, she’d have thought him an
automaton.
    “Want some salt with that?”
    His fist smashed down on the table. The pitcher, now ice
only, jumped. May’s glass tipped, and before she could catch it, spilled toward
her lap.
    She pushed the chair back, rolling into the back wall,
and stood up. Beau lifted his hand over her still-spinning glass and smashed
his palm onto it. May closed her eyes, praying it was safety glass.
    She opened them again. No blood. But he wasn’t done. He
tipped the last of the margarita from his glass onto his tongue, and then threw
the glass at the table. This time, the glass splintered. May put her hand