The Cowgirl Ropes a Billionaire Read Online Free PDF Page A

where you live and work, dummy . Well, Morgan probably wouldn’t call her a dummy. Out loud.
    “Their home environment,” Ellis explained, gesturing at the cowboys in the waiting room. “Hi, Bella—great to meet you. You’re probably feeling a little overwhelmed right now.” Ellis looked young—twenty-five or twenty-six, Bella guessed, dressed in black jeans and a black turtleneck that must have been hot on this sunny fall day. He gripped a pile of file folders and kept fiddling with his cell phone.
    “Of course she’s overwhelmed,” Madelyn said. “What does Bella know about being on television? Nothing. So we’ll teach you.” She put an arm around Bella’s shoulders in what she assumed was supposed to be a friendly hug but felt more like a vise grip, and led her to an empty chair in the waiting area. “Have a seat and I’ll quickly explain the layout of the show.”
    As Bella sat down she saw Hannah pull out a small notebook and pen. Thank God—she doubted she would remember any of this. Morgan leaned on the counter soaking up every word, too. The cowboys relaxed in their chairs.
    “The whole show is shot over seven days, with two days for travel and five days of filming. Once you step on our private jet you will have no contact with anyone except the show’s personnel. At the show’s conclusion we will either deliver you back here or to the home of Evan Mortimer. If you win, we will shoot additional coverage of us presenting you with your winnings, plus a follow-up show in three months’ time to check in on how the money has changed your life. If Mr. Mortimer wins, we will shoot your wedding, of course, plus a follow-up show in three months’ time to see how your marriage is going.”
    “Wait a minute,” Bella said. “There’s a question I’ve got to ask. Why would a billionaire want to marry me?”
    Madelyn frowned. “Billionaires are not like you or me, Bella. Who knows why they do what they do? But the terms of our contract state that if you lose the contest you will marry him. Do you understand? There’s no surprise here—we discussed this at length in our emails.”
    Bella glanced at Hannah again, who chewed on her pen, a sure sign of nervousness. Madelyn must be referring to emails she’d exchanged with Hannah. A momentary urge to throttle her receptionist swept over her, but Bella remained in control. Barely. “Right. I just think it’s strange, that’s all.”
    “Moving on,” Madelyn said.
    “Can I see him?” Bella interrupted.
    “See who?” Judging by the way she tapped her foot on the clinic floor, the director was getting irritated.
    “Mr. Mortimer. Can I see what he looks like?”
    Ellis juggled through the file folders and pulled out a photograph. “Here he is. Meet Evan Mortimer—billionaire. Must be nice, huh?”
    “I guess.” Bella chewed on the end of her hair thoughtfully as she looked over the photograph. It showed a man in his early thirties with dark hair and cool, assessing eyes. He had a strong face that spoke of a sharp mind and decisive personality. He looked to be an impressive adversary.
    Suddenly this all felt like a very, very bad idea.
    “That ain’t a man, that’s a monkey,” Jamie pronounced, looking over her shoulder. “Look at that getup he’s wearing. No way he can do an honest day’s work in that. You ought to marry a cowboy, Bella. Don’t we know anyone?” He looked meaningfully at Cab, the only single one of the bunch.
    “Leave Cab alone,” Ethan drawled. “He’ll get married sooner or later.”
    “Emphasis on later,” Rob said. “The man’s slower than molasses.”
    “Who you calling slow?” Cab said.
    “Time, people,” Madelyn snapped. “We have a lot of ground to cover.”
    Bella tried to ignore the cowboys and listen to the woman’s description of the shooting schedule, the types of contests she might face and a list of rules that seemed endless, but her attention kept returning to Evan’s photograph. Despite