R Is for Rebel Read Online Free PDF Page A

being remedied as we speak. I had my assistant send one from Miami. It should be in your room tomorrow first thing.”
    She laughed at his arrogance. “I can well afford a phone, Eliot. I choose not to have a phone.”
    â€œI know. Free spirit and all that. You don’t have to answer it if you don’t want to. Just think of it as the tin can with the string that connects your bedroom to mine across the backyard of our houses. I’m the lecherous boy-next-door who stares into your bedroom window at night.”
    She tugged on his hair.
    â€œOw.” Even though he balked, he liked the way she handled him.
    â€œBut then Mother will call me,” she said, “and Max will call me, and Devon will call and take up the whole answering machine.”
    â€œNo, they won’t.”
    â€œWhat do you mean? Of course, they will. Why do you think I’ve spent the last ten years at the four corners of the globe? Without a cell phone. My family can be quite meddlesome.” But she smiled, and Eliot thought it might be from the realization that it was her family’s love that was meddling and that might not be such a bad thing. He smiled at the thought of how uncomfortable all that love was going to make her. He was going to love her up like mad.
    She stopped rubbing his scalp when she saw the look on his face.
    â€œWhy are you all stiff again?” he asked.
    â€œBecause you scare the hell out of me when you look like that, Eliot.”
    â€œNot possible. I’m putty in your hands.”
    â€œThat’s what’s so terrifying. You are supposed to be an intimidating CEO and a pompous ass, and then I’m supposed to flick you out of my mind without a second thought. It’s disturbing.”
    He started laughing again. “You sound like my mother,” Eliot said as his cheer subsided. “She tells me I am far too accommodating, far too much of a peacemaker. I’m a bastard in business, if that helps, but I don’t really go in for disturbing people in my private life. You, on the other hand, were aptly named, oh fiery daughter of Nabucco…”
    She couldn’t help but smile at the idea of Abigail the Warrior and Eliot the Peacemaker trying to find their way in this world.
    â€œI know what you’re saying, or implying, but face it…” Abby shook her head again. “You ride around in chauffeur-driven limousines in Danieli suits and I drive a beat-up Morris Minor and buy my clothes at the Oxfam shop. We’re not a good pair. We should just fool around and get it out of our systems.”
    â€œThe fact that you know my suits are Danieli proves that your beat-up Morris Minor is really an heirloom and your Oxfam rags are utter affectations.”
    â€œNot utter affectations!”
    He raised a skeptical brow.
    â€œAll right, I might be slightly affected,” she conceded. “But the fact that you are the chairman of Danieli-Fauchard and I have chosen to abandon the absurdity of my mother’s—and yours, I daresay— haute couture world might be germane .”
    â€œI love when you use big words.” He moved his head deeper into her lap to remind her to start rubbing him again.
    She resumed stroking his neck and proceeded with her litany of their potential relationship pitfalls. “You’re too old.”
    â€œWell, that can’t be helped and it’s just plain mean of you to point it out.”
    She held his head firmly between her palms. “You’re impossible, Eliot Cranbrook!”
    â€œSo are you. That’s why I got you the phone.”
    â€œAll right. Tell me more about this magic phone that doesn’t take calls from my mother.”
    Eliot smiled. “It’ll be delivered to Moonhole tomorrow morning. Take it or not. I had it programmed so it only receives calls from one number. My number. That’s what I meant when I said no one from your nosy family was going to be bothering