Training Her Curves - Geneva (A BBW Billionaire Domination and Submission Romance) Read Free

because I hadn't started anything with him. My mere presence had insulted Dylan, as had my agreement to model for the fashion line and serve as one of its two primary spokesmodels. Then there was the whole thing about how he'd broken my heart, halved my self-confidence and generally made me feel like a fool who had spent the last two years of her life crushing on a completely unobtainable man.
    What he had said to Riona had been provoked and, as much as I cherished her friendship, had a layer of truth. Her very real talent had combined with her wealth to produce a bit of a diva. While she had been correct on all other points, such as swapping photographers for the shoots and such, St. Simon was his own force and talent. He didn't create things, he perfected them, in part because of his meticulous attention to detail and unfailing sense of balance.
    His "tweaks" didn't infuriate Riona because he was wrong -- quite the opposite.
    She lifted her head, the question I hadn't yet answered still alive in her gaze.
    Sighing, I lifted one hand and brushed at the air. "He is what he is and will always be."
    "Yeah, horrible," she agreed with a little sniff. "Find anything yet?"
    I barked out a laugh. "Honestly, I haven't started looking."
    Rolling my lips, I hesitated with something I wanted to say. I knew my search was poorly informed. I was looking at the business end, but everything pointed to this being a personal issue -- no matter how much money or property or staff were on the line.
    "It would help if I understood what this search is really about," I said at last. "The attorneys and accountants have spent two months going over the financials. If something like a debt isn't recorded, it won't be enforceable against us. There's no real diversification in the holdings, so complexity isn't going to trip us up."
    Riona didn't answer, just worried her plump bottom lip with her teeth. She also failed to meet my gaze, something that was unusual for someone so frank and confident. Other than her behavior after returning from New York, I'd never known her to be evasive or secretive.
    "Fine, I'll start," I said. "When I was in Boston, King told me that Dylan killed his daughter."
    She snorted and rolled her eyes.
    "That, of course, conflicts with the news reports," I prodded.
    "Because it conflicts with reality," she snorted again. "First, Dylan never left the party she was at before she died. Even his enemies at the party don't contradict that fact."
    I nodded. I had first read through the old clippings about six months after joining the executive support staff. I knew Jake had been driving the car that crashed with Linsey in it. She had died en route to the hospital, never regaining consciousness.
    "I hate to say it..." Pausing, Riona traced the grain of the wooden conference table with one long, pink fingernail. "I wish Linsey never existed..."
    Her eyes teared up. I stretched my arm across the table to cover her hand and give a little squeeze.
    "Why?"
    "She was crazy about Dylan, had been since her early teens. He was more charming back then..."
    A tear splashed down her cheek. She freed her hand from mine to swipe away the moisture.
    "When she moved to Chicago and started fawning over him, he took her out to high end functions, things he couldn't take his call girls to. The party wasn't one of those things."
    Leaning back in her seat, her fingers began toying with the edge of the table. Her gaze went blank but she resumed talking. "He had gone there with someone else and disappeared into a playroom."
    A dry chuckle crawled its way up her throat. "A former senator's house, everything respectable in the common areas but many of the guests knew there were other diversions to be had behind certain doors. Knowing only that Dylan had disappeared somewhere in the house with a very attractive and overtly sexual woman, Linsey started slamming back drinks -- hard liquor drinks."
    "Oh," I interrupted. "That wasn't mentioned in the papers."
    I was