Billionaires Prefer Blondes Read Online Free PDF

she knows Rick Addison.”
    “So I’m a passport and a calling card. If that brings your business more attention, then what’s the difficulty?”
    “There isn’t one.” She frowned at him. “I’m just cynical.”
    “I’ve noticed that about you. Some of your clients do call me first to check up on you, if that makes you feel any better.”
    “Who’s called you?”
    “Some of them. Obviously I say nice things about you.”
    “Gee, thanks. Did Locke call you?”
    “No. Apparently he did use the ‘poof’ method, as you suspected.”
    She could have spent the next forty minutes speculating about why Rick had decided not to tell her that some of her potential clients were checking up on her until that moment, or she could enjoy some very tasty pancetta-coated guinea hen. She took the second option, mainly because it also allowed her to gaze about the room. Rick had been right about the decor: plain walls, but covered with representatives of the pieces going up for auction. Christ. She hoped nobodyslopped spaghetti sauce on the English landscape painting by Constable.
    They had to be alarmed, didn’t they? Or did Sotheby’s rely on the number of witnesses, the crowded gauntlet of booths and tables, and the scattered security to ensure the safety of what amounted to millions of very tantalizing dollars?
    “What is it?” Rick asked, interrupting her thoughts.
    Samantha blinked. “What is what?”
    “You’re practically drooling.”
    “I am not. I’m just wondering at the level of security. The last time I was at Sotheby’s, this was the storage basement. I mean, forget thieves, but what if somebody sneezed on a Rembrandt?”
    “I don’t know what precautions they take. Would you like me to put in a request to see the director?”
    She wasn’t entirely certain whether he was teasing her or not, but she was not going to have a sit-down with a guy whose business she’d robbed a half dozen times over as many years. “I’m not that curious. When do we go upstairs?”
    “The auction starts in an hour. I figure we’ll have time to take a walk around the gallery before it begins.”
    “Good. I like that part.”
    “I imagine you would.”
    For a moment Samantha concentrated on her dinner. “You really are acting like you think I’m going to pull a job or something.”
    “You’re the one who agreed to join me in New York only after I received the invitation to come here tonight.”
    Okay, so he’d noticed. “This isn’t the only reason I’m in New York. But I admit, I am curious to be here in a legitimate capacity—even if it’s just as Rick Addison’s arm candy.”
    “You’re a very sour type of arm candy tonight,” he noted mildly. “I wish you would tell me what’s truly troubling you.It has something to do with your shopping today, I know, but you’re a bit of a tough nut to crack, as they say.”
    “I’ll take that as a compliment.” Inhaling a deep breath, Samantha set down her knife and fork. “Okay. I don’t know what’s bugging me. I’m just all keyed up for something when I damn well know nothing’s going to happen.”
    Deep blue eyes gazed at her. “It makes sense. You’ve spent most of your life walking into trouble and then avoiding the consequences of it. So now—”
    “Hey,” she cut in, scowling. “That does not sound very flattering.”
    “It’s a fact. You steal a Monet, and then do your damnedest not to get caught. So now that your life has calmed down a little, I think you’re waiting for the proverbial other shoe to drop.”
    “I really hate being analyzed.”
    “I’m just attempting to help.”
    “Well, stop it. Whatever’s bugging me, I’ll deal. And not by grabbing a Picasso and running for it, so don’t worry.”
    “I always worry, but not about that.”
    After that it seemed a better idea to just keep her thoughts to herself and finish dinner. Rick evidently realized he was about one word away from getting a three-inch heel stuck in his