The Billionaire Next Door Read Online Free PDF Page A

door.
     
    The man on the other side of the jamb stood about six inches taller than her and wore nothing but a pair of boxers and a whole lot of muscle. With a gold cross hanging from his neck, an old tattoo on his left pec and a scar on one of his shoulders, he looked a little dangerous…especially in the face. His hazel eyes were sharp as razors, his jaw set as if he was used to being in charge, his lips nothing but a tight, hard line.
     
    She could totally imagine the cold tone she’d heard over her phone coming out of that mouth.
     
    “Yeah?” His voice was very deep.
     
    “I’m Lizzie—Elizabeth Bond. I talked to you today—yesterday. I live downstairs.”
     
    All at once his face eased up. “Ah, hell. I’m making too much noise, aren’t I? Worse, I’ve been at it for a while.” His South Boston accent flattened out his vowels and sharpened his consonants. Funny, she hadn’t noticed the intonation over the phone, but it was clear as day now. And she’d seen him somewhere. Then again, it was probably because he looked like his father.
     
    “Anyway,” he said, “I’m sorry and I’ll cut it out.”
     
    “Oh, that wasn’t why I came up. And I just got home from my shift so I missed most of the pacing.” She took a deep breath and smelled…whoa, a very nice cologne. “I’m truly sorry about your loss and I—”
     
    “Hey, you want some breakfast?”
     
    “Excuse me?”
     
    “Breakfast.” As he pushed a hand through his thick dark hair, his bicep flexed up and the gleaming cross shifted between his pecs. “I’m not going to sleep anytime soon and I’m hungry.”
     
    “Oh…well…that’s not necessary.”
     
    “Of course it isn’t. But you just got home from work, didn’t you?”
     
    “Ah, yes.”
     
    “So you’re probably hungry, too, right?”
     
    Come to think of it she was.
     
    “And I’ll even put my pants on for you, Elizabeth.”
     
    Absurdly, a rush went through her. And she had the illicit, inappropriate thought that while he was making love to a woman, his voice would sound fantastic in the ear.
     
    God, how could she even think like that?
     
    “Lizzie,” she said, walking in. “I go by Lizzie.”
     
***
     
    Sean tracked the woman as she went by him, very aware of her smooth, gliding stride. Tall and lean, she was wearing an old pair of blue jeans and a four-sizes-too-big Red Sox T-shirt he was willing to bet she’d be sleeping in later. Her shoulder-length blond hair was pulled back in a no-nonsense way and the ends were damp as if she’d just showered. She smelled of Ivory soap.
     
    Which he liked.
     
    “Lizzie it is, then,” he said as he closed the door. “And you can call me Sean, of course.”
     
    As he spoke, he realized his Southie accent had resurfaced and it was strange to hear the speech pattern of his childhood back in his words again. During his years at Harvard, he’d assiduously tamed the telltaler s and learned a different, less regional way of talking.
     
    Less regional. Ha. Try more upper-class.
     
    Lizzie stopped in the middle of the room, her pale green stare going over everything as if she were inspecting the place. She had smart eyes, he thought.
     
    “So you’re a nurse?” he said.
     
    “I am, but I wasn’t treating your father. I was a friend of his.”
     
    Had he heard that right? “A friend.”
     
    “Yes. I’ve lived downstairs for the past two years so we got to know each other. He was lonely.”
     
    “Was he.”
     
    “Very.” As she nodded, she ran her hand over the back of the Barcalounger. “We had dinner together a lot.”
     
    For some reason, the sight of her touching his father’s chair creeped him out.
     
    “Well, then, I guess you know the way to the kitchen.” Sean reached into his duffel for some jeans. “You mind if I don’t put on a shirt? Damn hot up here.”
     
    He was surprised when she blushed. “Oh…no. I mean, yes, that’s fine.”
     
    As she headed out of the room,