Tycoon Read Online Free PDF

I’ve always wanted to explore all of it, but I never have the time. Did you know that of all the thirty-six bridges in the park, no two are alike?”
    â€œNo,” he said slowly. “I didn’t.”
    â€œThey are. What makes them different? I’d like to spend a day finding them all, figuring out why each one is unique.” Color bloomed on her cheeks and she ducked her head to concentrate on her champagne. “That probably sounds ridiculous to you.”
    Wrong. The emotion rising in his chest was definitely not one of ridicule. It was yearning, strong and pervasive, filling him like air in a balloon. When was the last time he’d taken a simple pleasure walk in Central Park? He desperately wanted to go with her. To help discover every one of those bridges and watch the joy reflected in her bright green eyes. To just . . . be near her.
    And for a man who preferred his own company to that of others, this admission shocked him.
    â€œNot ridiculous,” he said quietly. “I think it sounds like a fine day.”
    â€œYou’re being kind.” She set her flute on the table and then rose, her skirts rustling. “I suppose I should retire. The champagne has turned me sleepy. So, how . . .”
    She trailed off and he realized they hadn’t discussed sleeping arrangements. He got to his feet. “Oh, you’ll take the bed in the back, of course. I’ll sleep on the sofa.” Her head started shaking before he’d even finished the sentence.
    â€œAbsolutely not,” she declared. “I would not feel right taking your bed. It’s your car, after all, and you’ve been so gracious to allow me to stay here. This sofa seems very comfortable and perfect for me—”
    â€œClara,” he said sharply. “Do not argue. I am more stubborn than you can imagine and you won’t win.” She held his stare, obviously trying to judge his seriousness, but he did not blink or waver. Under no circumstances would he allow her to sleep on a sofa.
    â€œBut it wouldn’t be proper for you to see me . . . dressed for sleeping.”
    He froze. The thought hadn’t crossed his mind before now. What did she sleep in? He could imagine a variety of possibilities, each more enticing than the last. Heat erupted over his skin and he shifted on his feet. “I promise to turn around should it be necessary. But the water closet is in the back and the bedroom has a door that locks.”
    She nibbled the inside of her lip. “I suppose you’re right.” In a blink, she leaned in and kissed his cheek, her lips like velvet on the rough skin of his face. He inhaled, filled his lungs with the sweet smell of her, and a wave of lust rolled through him. The woman was a fiery-haired temptress.
    â€œThank you, Ted. For all you’ve done for me.”
    Without another word, she disappeared into the back. Unable to move, he heard the door snick shut and then the lock engage.
    * * *
    Heavens above, was the bed . . . shaking?
    As Clara rolled over, she realized the bed was indeed shaking, as if she lived by the elevated tracks. Considering she lived in a boarding house in Greenwich Village that never shook or shimmied, alarm jolted through her to jerk her fully awake. Her eyes flew open and with sight came recognition. Train car. Ted. The memories flooded back, unfortunately along with a fierce headache. Oh, the champagne.
    Curling onto her side, she groaned and dragged the pillow over her head. Mercy, even the soft cotton hurt. Why had she ingested so much bubbly?
    A knock sounded on the bedroom door. “Clara?”
    Ted. Thank goodness he couldn’t see her, though she did pull the covers up to her chin anyway. “Yes?” The rumble of her own voice echoed like a hammer in her skull.
    â€œI am off to breakfast. There are some things here for you when you wake. I’ll give you some privacy and will await you in either the dining or salon