Stranded with a Billionaire (Billionaire Boys Club #1)(33)

She turned to look at Logan and crossed her arms over her chest. “You have some serious explaining to do.”

“I know, and we’ll talk about it later. I promise,” he said, putting a hand on her shoulder and steering her down the long hall to a different set of doors.

Bront? waited for him to explain, but he paused in front of the door and said only, “This is our room.” He pushed it open, and she gaped at the room before her. Thick, plush red carpet covered the floor. A massive wooden four-poster bed dominated the room, along with a bay window that overlooked an enormous swimming pool. A Pre-Raphaelite painting hung over the bed. The entire thing screamed money.

And Logan had a “usual room.” Ugh again. Everything he’d told her was a lie. What was the point in lying to her about his job, though? It didn’t make sense. It only hurt her feelings that she hadn’t mattered enough for him to tell the truth.

“Make yourself comfortable,” Logan told her. “I need to meet with Jonathan to discuss a few things and then call my assistant. I’ve been out of pocket for too long.”

She stiffened, then turned to give him an incredulous look. “I thought we were going to talk.”

“It can wait.”

“No, it can’t. You lied to me.”

“The lie ended up being to your benefit.”

She gasped. “My benefit? Since when is lying to someone to their benefit?”

“I’m wealthy,” he said. “I’m sure that’ll make up for a lot of things. Take a shower, and you’ll feel better. I need to talk to Jonathan.”

He leaned in to kiss her, and she turned her face away, still stewing. She didn’t realize that he’d left until she heard the door shut and she was left all alone in the gorgeous room.

He wasn’t who she’d thought he was. He had money, and he obviously thought that having money made his opinion more important than hers.

The lie ended up being to your benefit.

Bront? wanted to punch him for saying that. She kicked off her sandals in a fury and crossed her arms, heading over to the window to stare out at the pool below. After the hurricane, it was odd to see a pool that wasn’t full of broken deck chairs. Jonathan’s pool was, of course, full of sky blue water. A large waterfall cascaded down some rocks on the far end of the pool, and to the side she saw a white linen tent fluttering in the breeze, with cushioned wooden deck furniture underneath.

Wooden deck furniture. She wanted to laugh at the ridiculousness of it and that white linen tent. Of having a pool with a freaking waterfall. She glanced around the room she was standing in. The carpet must have been two inches thick. She eyed the massive bed and expensive-looking coverlet, the painting with the plaque underneath that told her it was legit and not a copy. She went to the bathroom and flicked the light on.

The bathroom was bigger than her apartment. There was a sunken marble tub, a glass box shower, and three sinks. A wall full of mirrors on one side. A toilet and a bidet. Naturally.

This wasn’t just big money. This was ridiculous, stupid money.

And here she was, just a diner waitress who had gotten stuck in the elevator with a rich guy on an island.

No, she amended, a rich guy who owned the island.

She frowned, glancing back over at the bed. A telephone sat on an antique nightstand next to it. She went and picked it up, thinking hard. Bront? pulled out her wallet. Her credit card was intact, the few dollar bills she had in there a bit soggy but serviceable.

So she dialed information and got the number of a local taxi service. “I need a car to take me to the airport, please.”

“No problem. What’s your current address?”

“I have no idea. Can you do a reverse lookup on the number?”

The woman on the other end of the line agreed, then a moment later, said, “I’ve got the address. Someone will be there to pick you up in fifteen minutes.”

Bront? hung up and crossed the room, sliding her shoes back on. She’d wanted a harmless weekend fling that she could leave behind, no strings attached. She’d gotten one. Logan might have wanted to continue their little island affair now that they were on the mainland, but he should have thought of that before he’d lied to her and then dismissed her concerns.

In her mind, she’d left Logan behind on the island. She’d liked the playful, fun Logan. Manager Logan. She had no interest in the rich a**hole Logan, she thought sadly. The real Logan.

The one she’d fallen for was a fake.

***

Logan appropriated Jonathan’s study and made a few important phone calls that couldn’t wait another day. He called his assistant and asked her to order a new phone to be shipped to him overnight as well as to cancel his credit cards since he’d left his wallet somewhere at the resort. Then he called a few business partners to let them know he was indeed alive and that meetings should be rescheduled.

When he’d finished with the calls, he hung up the phone and found that Jonathan had reentered the room at some point during his last call. He’d brought a bottle of whiskey and sat down directly across from Logan, placing it between them. “Need a drink? You look like you could use one.”

He waved away the offer. “The only drink I could use right now is water. Alcohol just dehydrates you.”

Jonathan rolled his eyes. “You never loosen up, do you? It’s a wonder that your little gal pal didn’t run away screaming as soon as you opened your mouth.”