“You should have said no.”
“That’s what Shannon told me.”
“Shannon—your sister?”
“Right.” Kane cursed to himself, wishing he understood the complex emotions on Beth’s face. Usually women were easier to classify, but he didn’t know what to make of Beth Cox…or his reaction to her. For some reason he kept looking at her small breasts and slim body far more than the situation warranted. If nothing else, she was too young and seemed far too innocent. He had a policy about innocence—no playing around with someone who could get hurt.
He cleared his throat. “Anyway, having you turn the date down…it’s bad for the radio station. I’d give Patrick whatever he needs, but he’s determined to make it happen without my money. He got into some trouble as a teenager—after our father died—and he’s never really forgiven himself for it. I think this is his way of proving to himself that he’s changed.”
Beth sighed. “I’m sorry about your brother, but I don’t see how me going could make any difference. Just tell him to pick someone else for the prize.”
With an effort, Kane kept from exploding. “It doesn’t work that way. Advertisers are particularly sensitive to public relations issues, and listeners can be fickle, too. They’re already asking questions and wondering if the contest was rigged.”
He could tell Beth was troubled by the whole thing; she obviously was a caring person. The newspaper article had said she was active in various local charities—the Crockett Family Crisis Center in particular—so making a donation might convince her it was to everyone’s advantage to play along.
“All right,” he said slowly. “How about a donation to that crisis center you’re trying to get going?”
“A what?”
“A donation in exchange for you going on the date.” He pulled out his checkbook and began scribbling. Now that he thought about it, this was the best solution for everyone. No matter what people said, money did solve problems, and he had plenty.
“That’s ridiculous.”
“Not to me,” he said in a grim tone. Between the damaging consequences to Pat’s radio station and the embarrassment of being publicly refused, he’d be delighted to get the whole thing behind him. “So we’ll go on our date, and you can give the check to the crisis center. Just tell them to keep it private,” he added. “I’ve postdated it so it’ll look like I made the donation after our date.”
Annoyed, Beth looked from Kane O’Rourke’s face to the slip of paper he was holding out. “You’re trying to buy me off.”
“I’m trying to do my best to take care of everyone. Besides, I don’t think spending the weekend with me is such a terrible fate.” When she didn’t move, he put the check on the kitchen table. “We’re supposed to go to Victoria next week. I’ll have someone call with the arrangements.”
He walked out and she clenched her fingers.
“I’m trying to do my best to take care of everyone,” she mimicked, thoroughly annoyed. She didn’t need anyone taking care of herself; she did just fine on her own.
Beth snatched the check to tear it up—and practically fainted. There were a whole lot of zeroes at the end of the number. It would answer all the money problems the crisis center was having, and then some. Still, men like Kane O’Rourke were too accustomed to getting what they wanted, buying and selling people without a second thought.
The paper crumpled in her fingers and she dashed onto the porch as Kane O’Rourke reached the end of the walk.
“Mr. O’Rourke, you’re forgetting I didn’t say yes.”
He walked back to the porch. “You want more money?”
“You…oh. You just snap your fingers and expect everyone to go along. Well, I am not one of your employees, and I’m not doing anything I don’t want to do.”
Kane barely kept from grinning. Beth was like a rumpled kitten with its hackles raised, practically spitting in his face. He might not be used to hearing no, but their date would be anything but boring.
“You’ll go,” he said confidently. “You’re intelligent and you care about the community. In the end you’ll decide the money will do too much good and that it’s worth a weekend to get it.”
She let out a wordless shriek. “You’re an impossible, arrogant, overbearing tyrant.”
“Yeah, but I’m a lovable tyrant,” he agreed mildly. His family had accused him of tyranny too many times for it to bother him now.
“I could just keep the check and not go,” she threatened.
This time he laughed. He couldn’t help it. Beth was the first spice he’d encountered in longer than he cared to remember; he’d forgotten how exciting it was to have someone—other than his family—defy him. In simpler circumstances they might have become friends, but he lived in Seattle, she lived in Crockett, and his life was too crazy for normal people.
“You should take me seriously,” she warned.
“I always take women seriously. Besides, I have good instincts about people, and my instincts say you’re too honest not to go on our date.”
She looked ready to argue, so Kane leaned close and gazed into her brandy-wine eyes. He was having trouble remembering he shouldn’t kiss her. Honestly, he couldn’t understand why she interested him so much. He’d known plenty of women more beautiful and better endowed than Beth, but none of them had gotten to him so quickly—at least not since he was an overeager teenager with a thirst for curvy cheerleaders in tight sweaters.
He tugged on the end of her braid. “Someone will be in touch, Beth. With the arrangements.”
Her chin lifted a fraction of an inch and a devilish expression crept into her eyes. “Call yourself. I have no intention of being ‘staffed-out.’ If I hear from anyone but you, the deal’s off.”
She meant it, too, and admiration stole through Kane. Beth was holding a check for a pretty sum in her hands—enough money to solve a truckload of problems—and she still had the nerve to lay down terms.
Damned, if he didn’t like this woman.
Billionaire Charms “No” Into Maybe?
“I didn’t know you were that charming,” Shannon announced as she walked into Kane’s office late Monday morning and threw a newspaper on his desk.
Kane sighed. “I’ve seen it.”
Another bold title, this time with art.
Beneath it was a picture of him looking intently into Beth Cox’s face, his hand hovering in the vicinity of her chest. To say the least, it was highly suggestive, because you couldn’t tell from the photo that he was reaching for the braid that tumbled over her shoulder. His only consolation was knowing the article had been printed in the Lifestyles section of the newspaper, rather than the front page.
The buzzer on his desk rang and Kane pushed the intercom button. “Yes?”
“Mr. O’Rourke, there’s a Miss Cox here to see you.” His assistant’s voice held a wealth of amusement and Kane groaned to himself.
Great. Not only were his employees laughing their heads off, but Beth had to be upset about the invasion of her privacy. Not that he blamed her. He didn’t enjoy the notoriety that accompanied his success, either. All too often there were photographers in places meant to be private, and prying questions from people who didn’t have any business knowing the things they were asking.
“Tell