Beauty and the Billionaire (Billionaire Boys Club #2)(44)

“So, you can just take him into a closet and play Seven Minutes in Heaven or something. Victorian house party coming up! So where’s my invite?”

Gretchen sighed. “Let me work on him, Kat.”

“Tell him it’ll be good for your career. You need as much in-house support as you can get.”

“We’ll see.” But for some reason she was thinking less about her career and more about dragging Hunter into a closet and rocking his socks off. A smile curved her mouth. Maybe this party thing wasn’t such a bad idea after all.

***

“Oh, Astronaut Bill, what can we do? The universe is doomed for sure. The solarship with the cargo full of super-plutonium is headed straight for the galaxy warp. If we can’t get on board somehow, it’ll cut across space and head straight for the planet of my people, Vifraxa. Billions will be doomed.” She wiped unhappy tears from her shining blue eyes. “You must find a way to save them.”

Bill’s strong hands clenched on the railing of the deck. He turned and stared at his captain’s chair, furious. “We’ll find a way to stop them.” He snapped his fingers. “I have it! All we need to do is—”

Is . . .

Gretchen drummed her fingers, waiting for an idea—however stupid—to come to her.

And waited.

And waited.

Damn it. Nothing. She consulted the outline she’d turned in to her publisher. The storyline with the Vifraxans in danger was a new one and not included. Damn it, damn it.

She was stuck. She supposed she could backtrack a few chapters and delete the subplot and move back to the original storyline, but if she did, she’d lose an entire day’s worth of work.

She continued to drum her fingers, thinking. The trunk of letters lay open, waiting for her to turn to them, but she’d promised Kat that she’d try and knock out the rest of Astronaut Bill. Her gaze swung to her purse, where her phone hung out of one side.

An idea wormed its way into her head. Even though she knew she shouldn’t, Gretchen pulled her purse into her lap and began to dig through its contents.

A few minutes later, she had what she was looking for, and smiled. In the corner of one back pocket was an individually wrapped condom. Expiration date? Not until next year.

Hot damn.

She tucked it into the pocket of her favorite yoga pants and bounded out of the library.

Perhaps it was time to take a quick break and see what Hunter was up to.

***

To her surprise, he wasn’t in the greenhouse. It was empty, the roses blooming in the heavy, warm moisture-laden air. Gretchen turned around and headed to his room, knocking on the door. Not there, either.

She knew he had a gym on the premises, but not where it was. The house was too large for her to spend all day exploring. Frustrated, Gretchen spotted a phone on a table at the far end of the hall and headed for it. She picked up the receiver, and then paused.

She had no idea what Hunter’s phone number was. Actually, she didn’t know all that much about him other than the basics: He was lonely, he was scarred, and she loved to make him blush.

All right then, she’d learn more about him . . . right after she seduced him. Again. It wasn’t her fault, she told herself. The man was just completely seduce-able and utterly delicious. She couldn’t help herself. Even now, her fingers itched to curl into one of those starchy collars on his shirts and rip it open so she could slide a hand inside and touch his hot skin.

Her mouth watered just thinking about it. Gretchen stared at the receiver and sighed. She was going to have to do the inevitable, it seemed. With a sour frown, she hit zero to dial her least favorite person in the world.

Eldon answered on the third ring. Instead of hello, he said, “What are you doing in the north wing?”

“Hello to you, too. I’m looking for Hunter. He’s not in his room and not in the greenhouse. Any idea where he would be?”

“I’m not his keeper.”

She snorted to herself. You think you are. “I know you’re not. Can’t you just tell me where he is?”

“Why?”

“I’m going to go deflower him.” She smiled to herself at the butler’s outraged splutter. “Hey, you asked. Now, seriously, where is he?”

“You’re a vile young woman.”

“Yeah, well, you’re kind of a dick yourself.” When he spluttered again, she sighed. “Look, Eldon, I just want to spend some time with your boss. I don’t think he’d be keen on you keeping information from me. You may not like me, but he does. So spill the beans or I’m going to tell him you’re trying to keep us apart.”

There was a long moment of silence on the other end of the phone. Then he said, “Did you look in his office?”

It sounded like Eldon was spitting the words out of his mouth as if they tasted bad. “No, where’s his office at?”

“Second floor, west wing. Third door on right.” He hung up.

“Grumpy, grumpy,” she said to herself, hanging up the receiver. With a cheerful saunter, she headed for the west wing and went up the stairs. The door to his office was easy enough to find—there were not many doors in the West Wing, which meant that these were large rooms instead of the hall where she slept, a long corridor full of doors that were guest rooms.

She hesitated in front of the door and then knocked.