Beauty and the Billionaire Beast (Destination Billionaire Romance Book 6)

by Maria Hoagland

  “I can’t believe I did that.” He found her in the kitchen behind the main office, scooping cookie dough onto a baking pan. “I offered her a job.”

  Not moving her head, Zoe raised her eyebrows to look at him. “And that’s a problem why?”

  “I don’t know if I can work with her.” He groaned. “She’s headstrong and bossy.”

  Zoe rolled her eyes at him. “You mean she’s a go-getter. And knowledgeable.” She pulled a clean spoon from the drawer, scooped a bit of cookie dough, and handed it to him. “Be grateful. We’ve been trying to get someone out for the trees since you bought the place, and I’m not holding my breath that they’ll show up tomorrow. You need Emma.”

  “What if she steals more from me?”

  “More?” Zoe looked up and put her elbows on the kitchen bar, waiting for details.

  He knew it was lame before he said it, and sighed. “I told them no photography inside the house and she had to challenge me on it.”

  “Ah, that’s where you got the headstrong part. I was wondering.” She went back to loading the baking pan. “You do know that’s not really stealing.”

  “But I’d just said—”

  Zoe lifted a hand and he stopped. “What do you think she’s going to steal from you? If there was one scrap of something valuable, don’t you think it would be long gone by now?”

  “Antebellum antiques are worth plenty, but that’s not what I’m talking about. She’s here to find the Treager treasure.”

  Zoe scoffed. “That’s just legend. It has to be. No one’s found it in a century.”

  This wasn’t the point. “It doesn’t matter what it is. Everything on this property is mine, my family’s.”

  “You don’t need the money.”

  “Maybe not, but the Treagers have already taken enough. The treasure was supposed to belong to us to begin with.” He licked off the spoon and put it into the sink. “I don’t know if I can allow her to snoop around unsupervised.”

  “Okay.” Zoe remained annoyingly calm, as if defusing something explosive. “Then why did you offer to employ her?”

  Theo threw his hands up. “You said it yourself. We need her to save the gardens—”

  “Right,” Zoe cut in. “I want you to listen for a second. We’ve been friends forever, so I’m going to overstep here and give you some advice.” She allowed the spoons she was using to rest in the bowl and looked him straight in the eyes. “Focus on the plantation. It’s the real treasure here, not some old wives’ tale of hidden treasure.” She wiped her hands on her apron. “And if you control your temper, you may find that you save more than just the trees.”

  He blew out a breath. “You’re probably right.” He laid a hand on Zoe’s shoulder. “Thanks for keeping me grounded.” He’d needed the venting situation more than anything. “I’m going to go find her. See you later.”

  Back outside, the afternoon humidity tugged on his skin with familiarity. Seeing Emma, he strode over to where she was plucking some weeds from the limp peonies at the side of the parking lot. She stood when he reached her.

  An escaped lock of hair brushed across her porcelain cheek in the soft breeze, and Theo could almost picture her in an antebellum ball gown, her hair pulled up off her shoulders. He shook his head. Romantic notions like this weren’t going to help with the garden or the mystery.

  When Emma had shown him her great-grandfather’s journal, Theo had had the feeling there was something she was holding back. There had to be more about the situation than metal lock covers and matching hinges—though seeing the sketch had raised the hairs on the back of his neck. Not only did he want to hire her for the grounds, but the lure of mystery and adventure were too much to pass up.

  Theo stepped close enough to her that he noticed a slight scent of flowers and wondered if it was the plants or the girl. “Walk with me?” He tipped his head to the right, pointing out where he wanted to walk.

  Her hazel eyes searched his face through her glasses, and his heartbeat sped up. At least she didn’t seem to know she had power over him. Her lips lifted slightly, and she fell into step beside him.

  “Not only do we have overgrowth …” he said, hoping he sounded casual and confident. It wasn’t often anyone pulled him from his game. “Zoe mentioned you might know what’s wrong with our trees?”

  He set off for the double row of live oaks. The grandest part of the entire plantation. While the trees weren’t unique to Indigo Pointe, it was there that he felt claustrophobic in his contemporaneousness, overwhelmed with the history of the place.

  He heard Emma draw in a breath as they stepped past the fence, steeped in lichen and grayed with age. Together, they ducked under the canopy of the live oaks. Spanish moss dripped from the branches, swirling like kite tails in the breeze. As they walked along the dirt road, he wondered at the number of people who might have also walked this very lane—not only the countless tourists over the years, but those who had worked, lived, played, and visited—all the while with these same eighty-two trees stretched above, offering shelter from the weather, a hiding place, a clandestine meeting place, a refuge from the world.

  “Yes,” Emma said, so softly he almost missed it. “I can save your trees.”

  He felt her relief, and his own, mingling with those ghosts of the past. They walked several more yards, almost reaching the end of the lane. One turn, and they’d be back at the parking lot, back into what always felt like stepping from history into the present. He wasn’t sure he was ready to make that transition yet without making sure he wasn’t going to lose Emma.

  “Does that mean you’re considering the job?”

  “No matter what I decide about the job, Theo, I won’t allow these trees to die.”

  He knew she wouldn’t. But that wasn’t the same as agreeing to take the job. He needed to up his game.

  “There’s something I need you to consider before making your decision.” He made it sound serious, like this might deter her from taking the job, but if he read her right, this would be the carrot to entice her. “Did you notice the gate in front?”

  He put a hand on Emma’s elbow to turn her gently toward the front of the property, hoping the touch wouldn’t scare her off. They couldn’t really see the gate from here, especially with those awful evergreen bushes masking it, but they had a great view of the patchy grass. Such an open expanse was completely out of place.

  “Yes …”

  The woman was cautious, but at the same time, curious. He was playing this just right. “And the boring lawn between it and the big house?” He waited for her response, keeping his hand at her elbow.

  “Umm-hmm.”

  “That blank slate would be yours to fill.” He watched her try to bite back a smile, and continued spelling out his offer. “Without a grand entrance, we’re missing out on an important opportunity. It needs something, but not just anything. It has to be just right.” He paused, letting her think about it for a few seconds. “After what I saw in your sketchbook this morning, I think you’re the perfect person to design it.”

  Chapter 7

  Boy, he knew how to get her. Emma admitted to herself that he had looks in abundance and charm when he wanted to, but she could see through that. No, it wasn’t that. Theo had her because he’d taken note of her interests and needs, her love of history and plants. Having complete creative control over a historical garden like this one had been a dream of hers for a while now. Not only that, but it would be a gem of a résumé builder.

  The timing, too, couldn’t have been more perfect. She’d been able to take this vacation because she was between grad school and finding the perfect job, and now, here it was, being dropped into her lap. With strings attached, maybe, but still. She had to stay here, and she knew Theo knew it. She just hoped he wouldn’t take advantage of that, but how could he? He was offering a job. A dang good one. Was there a downside?

  Butterflies of excitement fluttered through Emma, followed quickly by a slide show of ideas for
the grand front entrance. While she hadn’t come to Louisiana for a job, she seriously considered accepting.

  She and Theo wended their way around the property so Emma could get a better picture of what the job entailed. Overall, it wasn’t as bad as it could have been. Neglect was the biggest culprit, though adding a touch of color to offset all the green would help. And definitely some indigo. Indigo Pointe Plantation must include actual indigo.

  Emma followed Theo into the ticket office, watching the dust motes swirl in the current when he forced the door open.

  “If you’ll hand me your keys, I don’t mind going back for your car,” Theo offered.

  Fishing her keys from the bottom of her cloth messenger bag took a second, but Emma located them and handed them to Theo, tingles going up her arm as her fingers brushed across the warmth of his palm.

  As soon as he ducked back out of the office, Zoe peeked through another doorway, a plate of cranberry hootycreeks in hand. “Is it safe to come out?”

  Emma laughed. “If you’re asking if the coast is clear, Theo’s gone.”

  Zoe and her plate of sweet-smelling goodies floated toward her. “Cookie?”

  “Thank you.” Emma picked one up, pleased to find it was still warm. One bite and she was in heaven. “You’re afraid of him even when you have cookies?”

  She wanted it to sound like a joke, but in her mind, she wondered if there was a reason to be afraid. Who was the real Theo? Was it the intimidating Theo with the edgy temper, or the man who kindly showed her the grounds and sought her help to revive the dying plantation?

  The idea of being the designer to create Indigo Pointe’s grand entrance had Emma giddy, almost to the point of fainting. What kept her from jumping up and down in acceptance was remembering how they’d gotten to this point. Theo had tried to soften the job proposal with levelheaded discussion, but she hadn’t forgotten that at first it had been less of an offer and more of an ultimatum.

  And then, how could she work for someone that everyone seemed to hate?

  “Afraid?” Zoe chuckled. “Of Theo?” Her expressive green eyes were offset beautifully by her caramel skin and plum lipstick. “No one who really knows Theo is afraid of him. No, I wanted to make sure you and I had a chance to grab a cookie or two before he scarfed them all.” She lifted a cookie and took a small bite. “To be fair, these are his favorites.”

  Emma narrowed her eyes, watching Zoe for signs of lying, but the woman didn’t seem to notice. She seemed comfortable, happy.

  “Seems you might have gotten the wrong impression?” Zoe turned to fill two glasses from a dispenser of iced lemon water on the buffet.

  Emma accepted the glass gratefully. “How was I supposed to take it when I heard him fire his tour guide, then get all ticked at me for taking a simple picture of a doorknob or corner me into working for him—not to mention the rumors around town …”

  “Whoa!” Zoe held up a hand to slow Emma down. “Admittedly, I wasn’t there for about half of that, but trust me.” Zoe tugged at the amulet on a leather cord around her neck. “He’s not that bad once you get to know him.”

  “Not that bad,” Emma muttered, loud enough for Zoe to hear. “Just sort of bad.”

  Zoe chuckled again, the sound soothing. “Oh, girl, you know that’s not what I said … or what I meant.”

  Emma liked this woman. “How long have you known him?” Emma set her glass on the counter.

  “Since about second grade.” Zoe had that look in her eye like she was remembering. “I was the dodgeball queen back when they let kids play dodgeball at school. And he was never afraid to take me on. Even though I beat him every single time.” Her pride in this achievement was strong despite the fact that it had to have been forever ago. “And then he up and moved to some dumb boarding school for rich preps in England or somewhere.” Zoe rolled her eyes. “We reconnected through a mutual friend in high school when he came home for holidays, and have been best friends ever since.”

  Thinking back to the “Mr. Lambert” stuff, that was the last thing Emma had expected. “So no truth to the whole beast thing?” She tried to laugh it off.

  Zoe pursed her lips and shook her head. “He’s misunderstood. That’s what he is. But don’t tell him I said that. He’d kill me if he thought I made him sound like some sappy emo or something.” She took another bite of her cookie. “You might want to grab another cookie.” She handed Emma a napkin. “Wrap it up and save it for later. Here he comes.”

  Emma did as instructed but also listened for any indication that Theo was nearby. Not one pop of gravel, no purr of an engine.

  The door screeched against the warped wood floor, making Emma jump. “So, Miss Treager, do we have a deal?” Theo handed her the keys and then headed straight to the cookies.

  Before he could grab one, Zoe snatched the plate out of reach. “Is that any way to ask?”

  He gave Zoe a side-armed hug while reaching for the plate, successful because his arm was longer than hers. “Hello, my favorite, awesomest cook. May I please have one of these offerings of deliciousness?”

  Without waiting for an answer, Theo grabbed two cookies, stacking them one on top of the other and taking a big bite. He turned back to Emma, raising his eyebrows in question as he chewed and swallowed.

  “I’ll need a place to stay for an extended period of time.”

  He grinned, a big kid who’d gotten his way. “You can have the east garçonnière. It’s fully furnished, and you should be quite comfortable.”

  She had no objection.

  “Then you can start immediately.” He took another bite of his cookies.

  The guy was nuts. Did he not see how she was dressed? “I need to check out of my hotel and change.”

  He nodded. “Of course. Be back for dinner.” He grabbed Zoe’s glass of water and took a gulp.

  How dare he? “Doesn’t the place have its own kitchen?” It was never going to work if there wasn’t.

  “Ehh.” He made a not-so-much, kinda-sorta motion with his head. “A small fridge and a toaster oven, but Zoe cooks for me and whoever else is on site that day. You’ll just eat with us.”

  She noticed it wasn’t exactly a request.

  She took her own bite of cookie to buy her a little more time.

  Picturing the before and after photos she’d have of the front entrance convinced her, and she could use the money. She had everything she needed and then some.

  “You’ve got yourself a deal, Mr. Lambert.”

  Chapter 8

  “Here I am, reporting for duty.” Emma plunked her suitcase on the wooden floor beside the ticket counter the next day, smiling at her new boss. Confidence was key, she reminded herself, trying to pretend she wasn’t worried about having upset him already.

  Okay, so she was, well, probably a full eighteen hours later than what Theo had expected when they’d come to an agreement the previous night. She probably should have gotten his phone number or something, but she hadn’t exactly liked that he had been so demanding. He’d ordered her to be back in time for dinner, but for goodness’ sake, it was already dinnertime when she left. So she stayed near New Orleans, had a good breakfast, packed up, and arrived at Indigo Pointe after lunch.

  “Where have you been?” He wasn’t explosive when he asked, but she could tell he was annoyed.

  “I had to take care of my hotel and rental car and arrange for a ride out here … and it was already late when I left last night—”

  “Text me next time.” Theo cut off her words and her excuse. “What’s your number?” With his stiff, no-nonsense business manner, he punched in the numbers, and she received a text from his phone. Theo picked up her suitcase and pushed the door open with exasperation. “Let’s go see your new home.”

  Emma shrugged off his sullenness, relaxing into the quiet of the plantation. She’d known Theo would react that way and she’d been mentally prepared. She had, after all, defied his orders on principle.

  Not knowing what to expect ins
ide a two-hundred-year-old bachelor pad, Emma stood on the porch as Theo unlocked the strangely modern deadbolt and handed her the key. “The room is stocked, but no one’s stayed there in a while, so if the AC doesn’t work or something, let us know.”

  She turned back to the closed door in front of her, excited beyond reason to have this little cottage to herself; she just hoped she didn’t get freaked out at night being alone in a strange place.

  The door swung into an open-concept room, vastly different than she’d imagined. To her right sat a comfortable-looking couch in a soft check of blue and white squares, dotted with red and yellow throw pillows. A squishy overstuffed chair sat in front of a window, open a couple of inches to allow fresh air to blow the gauzy white curtains. That would be the perfect reading nook if she ever had time for books while she was here.

  To the left of the front door was a small round wood table flanked with four chairs and topped with a vase of fresh-cut white roses. Zoe must have added the welcoming touch. On the far wall, the small kitchenette was outfitted with only the barest of necessities, just as Theo had explained. She wouldn’t starve if she never went up to the office to eat with Zoe and Theo, but she wouldn’t eat well. Only so much could be done with a toaster oven and a microwave.

  In the back of the cottage was a nice-sized bedroom, a queen-sized four-poster with a fluffy white duvet, a wooden nightstand with another vase of fresh flowers, and an antique wardrobe. The fragrance of the roses followed her as she stuck her head in to check out the bathroom. It was small but contained a tub perfect for soaking, so she’d be good.

  Better than good, actually. The garçonnière was a much nicer vacation home than the cheap motel she’d booked for the past week. Fixtures and features had been chosen with comfort in mind, and nothing was overlooked.

  After taking a few minutes to unpack and get her things situated, Emma grabbed her sketchpad. This time when she walked the grounds, she would survey the area with a more critical eye, jotting down notes as they occurred to her.