Secrets of the Tycoon's Bride Read Free Page B

carved newel post of the grand staircase sweeping up to the second floor. This was her favorite part of Estate. She’d always thought it resembled a stage from a Hollywood movie set.
    Thinking of Hollywood reminded her of California and home.
    Home. And the mother she’d inadvertently hurt when Susan Lowes had revealed Lauryn’s true parentage.
    Way to go, Lauryn. Shoot the messenger.
    Lauryn hadn’t meant to imply Susan had been anything less than a perfect mother. But Lauryn had questions about her heritage. Questions Susan couldn’t answer. And then there was the anger. Anger toward her father and Susan for withholding the truth. Anger toward Lauryn’s birthmother for rejecting her without even giving her a chance to fit into her world.
    Shaking off her unproductive emotions, Lauryn circled back toward the employee exit, shoved open the side door and stepped into the Miami sunshine and balmy November day.
    The first thing she saw once her eyes adjusted to the brightness was Adam Garrison leaning against a silver BMW convertible parked by the curb.
    Her stomach dropped like a cruise ship anchor and her nerves knotted like a snarled line. So much for avoiding him after yesterday’s fiasco. She hoped he wasn’t waiting for her.
    Reluctantly, she made her way down the sidewalk. She had to walk past him to get to the bus stop a block away. Lauryn had quickly learned that driving in South Beach was a disaster, not due to the traffic but because of the parking. Specifically, the lack thereof. So she relied on the bus system to get to and from work most of the time.
    â€œGood afternoon, Lauryn.” Adam straightened as she neared.
    At several inches over six feet, he looked lean and athletic in sharply creased chocolate slacks that accentuated his height and a cream silk T-shirt that emphasized the breadth of his shoulders. A breeze ruffled his dark hair, which always looked in need of a trim. She’d bet he paid a fortune for that casually unkempt look. Thankfully, his designer sunglasses covered his gorgeous make-Jell-O-of-her-kneecaps blue eyes.
    She was ashamed to admit that in the beginning she’d had a bit of a crush on her boss, but then stories of his swinging bachelor lifestyle and short attention span with women had eroded those feelings. She’d been there, done that and didn’t ever want to live that kind of superficial, self-absorbed life again.
    Adam was gorgeous, but good-looking men were a dime a dozen in South Beach. Not that she was shopping for one. You couldn’t walk down the sidewalk without passing a bare-chested guy showing off his tan and pecs—either of which may or may not be real here in a city where artificial beauty was as common as a cold.
    But most of those guys didn’t make her pulse blip unevenly.
    And none of them had proposed.
    â€œGood afternoon, Mr.—Adam. Did you need me for something?”
    Please say no.
    â€œLunch.”
    Not the answer she wanted. “I…have plans.”
    He frowned. “A date?”
    She hesitated and debated lying. But she couldn’t. Her presence in Miami was already complicated by too many half-truths. “No. I was going to the mall.”
    â€œI have a better idea. Get in.” He opened the passenger-side door.
    Would he fire her if she refused? Not something she wanted to find out. She eased into the leather seat and fastened her safety belt. Adam slid into the driver’s seat, started the engine and merged into the Washington Avenue traffic.
    â€œI only have an hour,” she reminded him.
    â€œNot a problem. Besides, you’re with the boss. Who’s going to report you?” He drove north for a couple of miles and then cut through to North Bay and turned back south. Seconds later he pulled up to the curb in front of an exclusive restaurant overlooking Biscayne Bay—one she’d never been to because A, she couldn’t afford it, and B, she couldn’t