Stranded with a Billionaire (Billionaire Boys Club #1)(34)

Funny. Bront? hadn’t though he was a stiff-necked jerk. He scowled at Jonathan. His adventurous friend got on his nerves with his laissez-faire attitude. Jonathan would move mountains—or destroy companies—to help his friend out, but sometimes the man needed to learn to shut up.

“We got stuck in an elevator.”

Jonathan snorted, knocking back his drink. “Is that how you got left behind? I was wondering if that shit manager of the place had neglected to tell anyone that you were there.”

“I fired him a few hours before the evacuation.” So no, Logan hadn’t been really surprised that no one had come looking for them. “How’d you figure out I was still there?”

“Oh, Hunter’s assistant’s been trying to get a hold of you for something, and when he couldn’t contact you for a couple of days, he set Hunter on it. Hunter didn’t have a chopper, so he called me.” Jonathan shrugged. “Wasn’t hard to figure out where you were at.”

Huh. Logan supposed he should thank Hunter next time he saw him. “Thank you for the rescue.”

Jonathan grinned. “I figured I’d come after you. It might have taken anyone else a few more days.”

Yet another thing to tick off on his list of items to improve at the Seaturtle Cay resort: evacuation plans. From what he’d seen, he wasn’t impressed. He and Bront? could have been in serious danger. Damn useless manager. Logan was glad he’d fired the guy.

“So . . . the girl. You said her name was Bront??”

Logan nodded absently, thinking of her wind-tossed hair and her brilliant smile. Her crawling under the table, her lips around his cock.

“Cute girl. She’s with you, I take it?”

His eyes narrowed and a possessive surge rocketed through him. “Why?”

Jonathan raised a hand. “Down, boy. I was just going to comment that she wasn’t your regular type.”

Logan’s jaw clenched. Was this another Danica comment? “What exactly do you know about my regular type?”

“They’re friendlier, for one. That girl looked like she was ready to chew you up and spit you out once she found out you owned the place. You lied to her?”

“She saw my suit and assumed I was the manager. I decided not to disabuse her of that assumption. Seemed easier.”

“Well, I guess she’s not a gold digger,” Jonathan commented. “She did look pretty pissed, though.”

“She’ll get over it. The lie was to her benefit.”

“Shit, man, that’s cold. I hope you didn’t tell her that.”

Logan fixed his narrow gaze on Jonathan. The man wasn’t a player like Reese; he was constantly traveling or in some sort of adventure, and he had yet to find a woman to keep up with him. Ironic that he was giving Logan advice on a woman’s feelings. But if he was saying that Bront? would be offended, he might be right. “She’s not like other women. She’ll realize that I was protecting my identity and be fine with it.”

It had been an utterly pleasurable experience, too, he had to admit. Being with a woman and not having to worry whether she was thinking about what he could buy her? It had been freeing. He hadn’t realized how much so until he’d met Bront?.

“If you say so. You know her better than I do. What did you say she did for a living?”

“Nothing.”

Jonathan frowned and then leaned forward to pour himself another drink. “What do you mean, nothing?”

“I mean she does nothing for a living. She’s a waitress at a sock hop diner.” He tried hard not to let his lip curl at the thought. “She worked there during college and never really left.”

“Ah. I’m starting to see why you kept your identity a secret. Afraid she’s going to look to you to keep her in the lifestyle that she needs?”

Logan thought about that for a moment, frowning to himself. Actually, he didn’t see Bront? like that at all. She’d been so pleased with the smallest of things—like this morning’s breakfast. If anything, she seemed uncomfortable with wealth. She’d been looking around Jonathan’s beach house in pure dismay. It would take her a while to get used to this lifestyle, he figured.

He imagined bringing her with him to his penthouse in New York. Imagined dressing her in the finest silk lingerie and getting to strip it off of her body as she showed him how pleased she was with it. Introducing her to his friends and seeing her radiant smile light up her face. Coming to bed and having her roll over and snuggle close, her hand going automatically to his c*ck to grasp it even in her sleep.

He rather liked the thought of Bront? in his life. Low-key, unassuming Bront? in his arms, snuggled up next to him in the car, in his home . . . in his bed. He liked that visual very much. And she was a waitress, so it wasn’t like she’d be giving up a career to be at his beck and call. An inward smile curved his mouth.

“She’s not like that, Jonathan. She’s different. Trust me.”

“If you say so. She seems nice enough, the few minutes she wasn’t glaring at you.” His friend shrugged and picked up the liquor bottle, moving back to the cabinet by the window.

“I’ll make it up to her,” Logan decided after a long minute. Maybe he’d take her to another beach resort. A real one, not that rundown rat trap at Seaturtle Island.