by Angelo, Judy
THE BILLIONAIRE NEXT DOOR
JUDY ANGELO
The BAD BOY BILLIONAIRES Series
Volume 13
Copyright © 2013 Judy Angelo
Phoenix Publishing Limited
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form, electronic or otherwise (mechanical, photocopying, recording or stored in a retrieval system) without the prior written consent of the Publisher. Such action is an infringement of the copyright law.
This book is a work of fiction. The names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the writer’s imagination or have been used fictitiously. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
Author contact:
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Cover Artist: Ramona Lockwood (Covers by Ramona)
BAD BOY BILLIONAIRES
Judy Angelo
Volume 1 - Tamed by the Billionaire
Volume 2 - Maid in the USA
Volume 3 - Billionaire's Island Bride
Volume 4 - Dangerous Deception
Volume 5 - To Tame a Tycoon
Volume 6 - Sweet Seduction
Volume 7 - Daddy by December
Volume 8 - To Catch a Man (in 30 Days or Less)
Volume 9 – Bedding Her Billionaire Boss
Volume 10 - Her Indecent Proposal
Volume 11 - So Much Trouble When She Walked In
Volume 12 – Married by Midnight
Volume 13 - The Billionaire Next Door
BAD BOY BILLIONAIRES, Coll. I - Vols. 1 - 4
BAD BOY BILLIONAIRES, Coll. II - Vols. 5 - 8
BAD BOY BILLIONAIRES, Coll. III - Vols. 9 - 12
BAD BOY BILLIONAIRES, Double Coll. - Vols. 1 - 8
The NAUGHTY AND NICE Series
Volume 1 - Naughty by Nature
COMING SOON
Volume 14 – Billionaire’s Blackmail Wife
Volume 15 - Rome for Always
THE BILLIONAIRE NEXT DOOR
NEVER PIT AN ALPHA MAN AGAINST A FEISTY FEMALE
Soledad Felix doesn't take guff from anyone, not even if that someone is the tall, dark and gorgeous hunk who moves in next door. Since the day he moves in he's a royal pain in the rear, going out of his way to make himself a nuisance. But then, as fate would have it, her big, bad and bossy neighbor falls right into her hands. And with him at her mercy, it's time to make him pay...
Ransom Kent likes to mind his own business and lead a quiet life but tell that to his crazy neighbor next door. From the first day they meet it's like she's got this thing against him, a crazy vendetta of her own making. And it doesn't help that she's both beautiful and bewitching, with a whole lot of hot sauce on top. It's an alluring combination that he just can't resist. But when he gives in to the temptation and hands her his heart on a platter, that's when he realizes she's nothing like the woman he thought she was.
The epic battle of fire and ice, and only one can be the victor...
CHAPTER ONE
"Oh hell, no."
The words exploded from Solie's lips as she stared out the kitchen window.
Ever since that flippin' man moved in next door he'd been nothing but trouble. First, his stupid robotic lawn mower smashed up her hedge when he'd been landscaping. Then his Great Dane wouldn't stop howling in the middle of the night. And now this. A friggin' construction crew in the backyard?
Bristling like a porcupine she flung open the back door and marched out. "What do you think you're doing?" She was yelling the words before she even got to the hedge. "Don't you know there's no construction allowed in this neighborhood on a Sunday afternoon?"
The man didn't even have the grace to turn and acknowledge her. His back to her, he waved to a man in a fluorescent orange vest, directing him as he lifted a plank into the air. Another man grabbed the other end, fitted it against a frame and proceeded to bang away, not seeming to care one hoot that he was making one heck of a racket.
"Hey, you. I'm talking to you." Solie could feel her ire rising the closer she got to the hedge that separated her yard from his. She hopped onto a flat-topped rock by the hedge so she could get a better view. "You can't just ignore me. I have my rights."
That must have gotten his attention because slowly and deliberately he turned then caught and held her gaze in a stare so icy-cold it almost froze her in her tracks. His dark eyes boring into her, his brows knitted in a heavy frown, he straightened and she could see he was well over six feet tall. As if she didn't know that already. He'd been her neighbor for the past two months and she'd checked him out from day one.
But that was beside the point. Ever since he'd moved next door he'd been annoying the heck out of her and now it would have to stop. "Whatever you're doing can wait till Monday when people are out at work. This is the weekend, for Christ's sake. What joy do you get in disturbing your neighbors?"
The man's mouth curled in a cynical smile. "As far as I see, you're the only one complaining."
"Yeah, because you don't have a neighbor on the other side of you. If you did they'd be hopping all over you right now."
He raised an eyebrow. "Like you're hopping all over me?"
"Oh, you think I'm hopping all over you? Not even close." She screwed up her lips and gave him her tough girl look. "You don't want to see me when I'm hopping mad, mister. Trust me on that."
To her chagrin, instead of backing off the man gave a bark of a laugh. "So I'm living next door to a bulldog, am I?" He cocked his head to one side and regarded her for several seconds, an evil glint in his narrowed eyes. "I might piss you off just to see what you'll do about it."
Solie's breath tightened in her chest. "You think this is a joke, do you?" She took a step closer to the hedge, close enough so the others couldn't hear her but the words would hit him where it hurt. "You think I won't call the police? Keep this up and just see if I don't. It's against the law."
The man gave a snort and took a step closer, mimicking her move, then he regarded her with unveiled scorn. "What law? I'm on my own property. There's no law that says I can't build a gazebo in my backyard."
"No, but there's a law that says you can't create a heck of a noise nuisance for your neighbor on a Sunday. This is a day for relaxation and family, in case you didn't know."
He cocked an eyebrow at her. "Oh, really."
"Yes, really." There. She had him. He would have to shut this thing down or else he would be in hot water for sure. She was not going to back down on this one.
"And what if I told you," he said, his voice suspiciously gentle, the sardonic smile back on his lips, "that today isn't Sunday?"
Solie glared at him. What did he take her for? "Please don't waste my time. Just shut this thing down right now if you don't want a holy mess on your hands." She threw him a sarcastic smile of her own. "I'm sure you don't want a visit from our friendly neighborhood police.”
“Go ahead and call,” he said, giving her a confident grin, “but I recommend you check your calendar before you put your foot in it.”
He was turning to walk away when Solie jammed her fists on her hips and growled, “What’s that supposed to mean?”
He only chuckled and said, “Just do what I told you,” and then he was heading back toward the men, barking orders for them to continue working as if she hadn’t just complained about the noise.
“We’ll see about that.” Solie was grumbling as she whirled around and headed back to the kitchen. She’d have the police out here so fast he would
n’t know what hit him. And if the police wouldn’t come she knew she could count on the president of the neighborhood association to fly to her rescue. Sandy Parkinson was nothing if not enthusiastic about her role as president. Maybe a little too enthusiastic, but still…
She was reaching for the phone when a tiny voice in her head began to whisper and the whisper quickly grew into a full-fledged nag that made her leave the phone and walk out into the hallway where a flowery calendar hung. He’d said to check the calendar, so she did…and that was when she saw that he was right. Today was definitely not Sunday. What the hell?
Solie’s hand flew to her mouth and she began to nibble at her nail as she did a fast rewind in her mind. Over the past four days she’d done two eight hour shifts then a twelve hour one then another twelve hours which had ended in the wee hours of the morning. So she’d come off on Saturday, hadn’t she? Or had it been Sunday? Christ, it must have been Sunday because the calendar was saying today was Monday the twenty-first and not the weekend as she’d thought. She blinked. How could she have missed an entire day?
And then her face fell as she realized what she’d just done. She’d gone and made a dang fool of herself, accusing her neighbor of disturbing the peace when he’d been carrying out a legitimate task on a week day. Groan…
Now she would have to apologize for flying off the handle. Or maybe she could just hide out in the house for the next few months and avoid the back yard altogether. Hopefully, he’d soon forget about the whole thing.
The problem was, ever since they’d met that first day, there was just something about her neighbor that rubbed Solie the wrong way. They hadn’t hit it off when his moving truck had blocked her in when she was trying to rush out to work, and things had gone downhill ever since. Mind you, she could have been agreeable and simply asked him nicely to have his men move the truck. But no, in frustration heightened by her haste she’d blasted him on the spot, and the fact that he’d paid her back by taking his own sweet time in getting them to move hadn’t endeared him to her one bit.
But the worst thing about the whole situation – honestly, the most annoying thing – was that from the very first day she’d laid eyes on him, even as she was cursing him out her body was tingling with an awareness she hadn’t felt in the longest. It was the first time anything like that had happened to her since she’d gotten rid of her slimy, cheating boyfriend over a year before.
And the second worst thing – if you could have two worst things - was that this man who’d moved in next door kind of looked like her ex. And everybody knew that men as good-looking as that were dogs. Painfully aware of her weakness for tall men with raven-black hair, piercing dark eyes and chiseled jaw line, she really didn’t want one of those living beside her.
She had absolutely no intention of slipping and falling in attraction or anything else with him. And that was why he shouldn’t have moved in beside her.
Damn the man!
***
Of all the places in Fort Lauderdale he could have moved to, he had to choose the house next to the craziest, most cantankerous woman he’d ever met. Talk about bad luck.
Ransom shook his head. He didn’t even know the girl’s name but already she’d needled her way under his skin in more ways than one. Was there nothing she didn’t complain about? If it wasn’t the hedge it was his dog and now this. So he couldn’t make noise either? And how else was he going to get his construction done?
Well, if she was complaining about that then she would soon have a whole lot more complaining to do because he’d already planned on having the guys over next Tuesday to celebrate the start of the NBA season. As far as he was concerned, October twenty-nine could not come fast enough.
And if a certain dark-haired beauty with flashing ebony eyes and pouty lips had a problem with him and the guys hanging out in his new gazebo, then too bad. His crew was not a quiet bunch and he was not about to apologize for it.
As he thought about the girl he was actually smiling as he grabbed his bright yellow hard hat and went out the door, pulling it closed behind him. At least she couldn’t be accused of being boring. When it came to neighbors she was one of the most interesting he’d ever had, even if not the most friendly.
Ransom had never been one to glory in his wealth and when he’d decided to move out of his penthouse suite in Miami Beach to settle in Fort Lauderdale he’d had no regrets. He’d grown up in a humble home in Iowa and it was only through drive, perseverance and sheer luck that he’d made it to where he’d now reached, one of fewer than five hundred billionaires in the entire United States. He’d always loved the construction industry and had started his business twelve years earlier, building low income homes in rural communities. Despite the economic recession, or perhaps because of it, his business boomed throughout the first decade of the twenty-first century until he was constructing homes in forty states as well as Canada and Mexico.
His massive break came in 2009 when he landed a huge government contract that doubled his business in the first year and by year three he’d secured a place in the nation’s exclusive list of billionaires. The business had him travelling all over North America and he soon ended up with homes in Toronto, Dallas, Washington D. C. and Miami, all of them luxurious, but for this project in Fort Lauderdale he wanted a change. This time he was ditching the image of the grand CEO of Kent Industries and going back to his roots. In Fort Lauderdale his plan was to be ‘hands-on’ and he wanted to live like it, too. No exclusive dwellings for him. He’d be mingling with the regular crowd.
Pity he hadn’t realized that this mingling would include a wicked witch on his west side, a pretty little one at that. Too bad she had a mean streak that he would do best to avoid.
And he would avoid her, all right, at least until the end of the day. He would leave his men at their task while he headed for his latest construction site in the heart of Fort Lauderdale’s business district, a fifty-storey building that would house the corporate headquarters of one of the largest clothing retailers in the United States. At that height it would become the tallest building in the city’s skyline, beating Las Olas River House by eight floors.
This was a big move for Ransom, stepping out of the construction of residential homes and into commercial buildings, but as far as he was concerned it was a timely move. He’d never been one to remain stagnant and was always challenging himself to try new things and that was part of the reason his business had grown at warp speed. With his venture into commercial construction he could only imagine how much farther he could go in the next ten years.
As he drove he reached over and pressed the speed dial on his cell phone.
“Yeah, boss?”
The voice of his second-in-command for the project boomed loud and clear, drawing a small smile from Ransom. If there was one person he knew he could count on it was Trevor Jones, his chief construction and project manager. In over seven years of working with him he’d been nothing less than one hundred percent dependable.
“How’s the home project going?” Trevor asked.
“Pretty good. It will be ready long before my NBA launch party. You’re coming, right?”
“When you say party do I ever turn you down?” He gave a deep, rumbling chuckle into the phone. “I’ll be there and I’ll bring the beer.”
“You know I’ve got that covered. Just bring yourself. But a word of warning.”
“What’s that?”
“I’m having the usual crowd, probably close to a dozen of us, and you’re by far the loudest. This time you’ve got to tone it down.”
“Why’s that?”
“I’ve got a pit bull living next door and she doesn’t like noise. She’s likely to fly over the hedge and rip your face off if you get her riled up.”
Trevor laughed. “Speaking from personal experience?”
Ransom gave a grunt. “You could say that.”
“Well, boss, all I can say is, bring her on. I doubt she’d have the guts to stand up to a thre
e hundred pound former linebacker like myself. I’ll have her shaking in her boots.”
Ransom could only grimace. He had a feeling his feisty neighbor would prove Trevor dead wrong.
CHAPTER TWO
“Soledad, it’s for you.”
At the sound of her name Solie deposited the tray of syringes on the desk and turned to see Kyra, her old friend and long-time co-worker, holding out the phone to her. “Dr. Gupta?” she asked as she hurried over to take the receiver from Kyra’s hand. At her friend’s nod she put the phone to her ear. “Yes, doctor? Did the results come in?”
“Yes, and I’m afraid it’s not good. You'll need to monitor Mr. Gerritsen very carefully. He's getting close.” The doctor’s heavily accented voice was grim.
Solie felt her heart tighten in her chest. “You mean there’s nothing we can do for him?”
“Nothing except make him as comfortable as possible.”
Her heart, already tense and choked, now dissolved into silent tears for her beloved patient but outside of an involuntary sigh and the sag of her shoulders she gave no outward show of emotion. How could she? The reality of illness, the loss of a patient - this was her life every day that she worked in the palliative care unit. She’d known that with all his health issues Mr. Gerritsen’s time was limited but she’d hoped…prayed…that he would live to see Christmas. The man was only fifty-five and had a brand new grandchild. Couldn’t he be spared long enough to make it to the little one’s ‘Baby’s First Christmas’ party?
She’d hoped against hope that the test results would have shown that the new medication was slowing the progress of his disease but he was moving as rapidly toward death’s door as he’d been before their desperate experiment. It was not meant to be.
