Beauty and the Billionaire (Billionaire Boys Club #2)(60)

Gretchen . . . leaving soon? Leaving him? Even though he’d declared love for her and they made passionate love every chance they had? Even though they enjoyed the endless hours spent together, and she made every day worth living, every hour of work sweeter because he knew she was waiting for him?

Not if he could stop it. She would be at his side for as long as he could make it happen. He didn’t care how or why.

He just knew he needed her.

Chapter 10

Gretchen crawled over Hunter, yawning, and tugged a T-shirt over her body. She searched his room for her panties, which were flung off hours ago. They hung on a lampshade, making her chuckle as she snatched them and put them back on again.

He reached for her, his eyes closed. “Come back to bed. It’s too early.”

“Can’t,” she said, moving to his side of the bed and pressing a kiss to his forehead. He reached for her and she danced out of his grasp, laughing. “Nice try, but I’ve got a lot of work to do.”

He reached for her again. “Come back.”

She wiggled away. “Nope. Can’t. You sleep, though. You were up too late last night working.” She’d had to come into his office to drag him to bed. Of course, he’d been reluctant until she’d started to strip. Then he couldn’t go to bed fast enough, she thought with a grin.

“I’ll get up in a minute,” he mumbled sleepily, then rolled over and went back to bed.

She watched him for a moment, resisting the urge to reach down and smooth his tousled hair. It was a mushy, silly moment, but she didn’t care. Watching him sleep filled her with an odd, easy sort of pleasure. When his breath evened out, she turned and left the room.

Breakfast could wait. She wasn’t all that hungry, and she’d dreamed about deadlines. Dreaming about work always left her in an anxious mood, and today was no different. She had to finish at least one project that was on her plate—if not the letters, then that last chapter of Astronaut Bill and Uranea that she kept promising to her publisher.

But the thought of writing more Astronaut Bill filled her with the usual loathing. She’d concentrate on finishing her cataloging of the letters, then. A week or two after she was already this late wouldn’t make much of a difference. Plus, she was a fancy bestseller now. Her mouth twisted into a sour smile at the thought. Yippee.

She padded across the manor on bare feet. The house was silent and dark, the sun not quite up yet. Hopefully that meant Eldon wasn’t up yet, either. A few minutes later, she opened the door to her library.

Igor stretched and meowed at her from the couch.

“Oh, no. Did I leave you in here all night?” She moved to pet his velvety head, making kissy noises at him. “I’ve been neglecting you shamefully, haven’t I? I can’t help it. I’ve got a new man in my life and he doesn’t even need kitty litter.”

The cat gave her a disgruntled look and then meowed again, flicking his tail at her and walking away.

Gretchen chuckled to herself, then headed to her desk.

And stopped, her heart dropping.

The vase of water that she normally kept her daily rose in was tipped over, the contents spilled all over the antique wood of the secretary . . . and her laptop.

“No, no, no!” She rushed forward, yanking her laptop out of the puddle. The case in her hands dripped, and when she turned it on one side to shake out the keyboard, droplets of water went everywhere. Frantic, she pushed the power button and held her breath, waiting.

Nothing.

Oh no.

Disbelieving, she hit the power button again, and then set the laptop down on one of the old-fashioned couches, racing back to her room. A hairdryer. That’s what she needed. She returned with it a few minutes later, plugged it into the wall, and flipped over the soaked laptop, her pulse pounding with anxiety. Maybe if she dried it out, things would be fine.

Twenty minutes later, she still had no power. Gretchen bit her lip, hard, her thoughts frantic. It was okay. She always made a backup of her work. Always. She normally emailed a copy to Kat—well, except this time she’d been avoiding Kat—and she always copied the file to her flash drive.

Which she always kept beside her computer.

Her flash drive! Gretchen bolted to her feet and ran for the sopping desk. Sure enough, her small, hot pink flash drive was sitting in a puddle of flower petals and water. She picked it up anyhow and clenched it in her hand, as if willpower could somehow restore her work.

Igor must have been thirsty, she reasoned. He’d knocked over the vase to get some water and her laptop had been in the way. She’d been so busy curling up with Hunter that she’d neglected her cat, and now she was paying for it.

Her stomach twisted into a sick knot.

All that work, down the drain.

Three weeks of work, gone.

The entire file of transcribed letters, gone.

Her latest Astronaut Bill manuscript, completely gone.

Any chance of getting paid before her landlord changed the locks? Gone.

Gretchen sank down on the couch, feeling wrecked. She stared at her poor laptop, at the flash drive in her hands.

No problem. She could fix this. She’d just start over . . . on both projects. In a few months, she’d be able to turn both in. And then she could get paid.

Gretchen burst into tears.

***

When Hunter awoke, he dressed and immediately headed for the opposite wing of the house. He’d had nightmares about being abandoned, and waking up without Gretchen’s warm body next to him hadn’t helped things.