Blackmailed by the Billionaire Brewer Read Online Free PDF

places, the upside of having an itinerant and pretty much
     wasted youth before I got stuck in an office. And then a regular paycheck made last-minute
     cheap flights during vacation time irresistible.”
    “Lucky you.” Sometimes Piper wished she hadn’t always been so square and reliable,
     Sanibel excluded—that was a crazy blip. “Sounds like fun.”
    He stared for a moment at the arch-shaped wooden wine rack behind the bar. Could it
     be that he was suddenly feeling wistful? Piper knew damn well she would be. Leaving
     the Atlantic Coast and its soft white sand had been bad enough.
    “What would you like to drink?”
    Her head was still thick from lack of sleep, but what the hell. “Whatever you’re having,
     as long as it’s not beer.”
    He smiled at the bartender and gestured that he wanted to order. “Two large Tempranillos, por favor .”
    The bartender grinned back. “Want any tapas with that, mate?”
    Matt nodded. “Yeah, a couple of small ones, whatever’s best today.”
    They watched as the young guy poured rich, ruby-colored liquid into the glass bowls
     of two tall wine goblets. “It’s nice here,” Piper said. “Why don’t we stay here and
     eat instead of trekking across town?”
    Matt shrugged. “Not sure they do big meals like steak and shrimp, just the tapas.
     I can ask about the Cabernet.”
    “I’m fine with the cute little dishes.” She closed her eyes and took a sip of the
     wine, tiny beaded bubbles still spinning on the surface from being poured. “This red
     wine is good. Is your cold executive heart set on lobster?”
    “I’ll live without the crustacean. In that case, let’s sit somewhere more comfortable.”
     He pointed to a small table set into an alcove. “Grab that one and I’ll get our server
     to bulk up our order.”
    Piper panicked slightly in the minute it took Matt to upgrade their order and she
     sat fiddling with a coaster while she waited for him. Conversation had flowed effortlessly
     between them in Florida and it hadn’t just been because of the alcohol. However, this
     was a very different feeling situation. Her best bet was to keep this as business-like
     as possible, to remain neutral and professional, however companions or girlfriends of convenience managed to do that. When he sat down she forced a smile, looked away, and took a sip
     of her wine before speaking.
    “I’ve been thinking about this big plan of yours.” She stabbed a cocktail stick at
     one of the stuffed olives the waiter had put down with their drinks. Garlic-stuffed,
     too. “Won’t your staff think it’s odd that the temp who screwed up the entire payment
     run is now suddenly your girlfriend and poster girl?”
    “Nope. I’ll mention to Super discreetly that my new squeeze wanted to know what it
     was like to have a nine-to-five job instead of living off her daddy’s allowance. And
     now that she knows what real work is like, she doesn’t like it too much, but she likes
     dressing up and having her picture taken.”
    “That makes me look like a spoiled brat!”
    He shrugged. “Does it matter? Being on my arm and having me metaphorically kissing
     your tiny feet will mean most of womankind will hate you anyway.”
    “So modest.” Her toes tingled at the thought of him kissing them. Perhaps he’d done
     that to her already, but she couldn’t be exactly sure.
    “It’s an observed fact, and that’s why I avoid long-term relationships. It’s just
     not fair on them.”
    “Them?” Talk about an inflated ego. “The female masses?”
    “No, the poor woman who thinks she’s found Mr. Right, but is sadly deluded because
     I’m a Grade A shit.” He shot her a chilling look. “Just so we’re clear.”
    “There’s no such person as Mr. Right in Passion Creek.”
    There might have been in Sanibel, though, if he hadn’t been such a drifter…
    She shuddered for a split second, thinking she’d spoken those words aloud. Was she
     insane? The drifter bum version