Page 12 of The Billionaire's Bad News Baby

“Would you like dinner or not?” he huffed, still not sure what her actual answer was.

“I would like to eat, thank you. Need any help?”

“No, you've helped enough for one day.”

You’re being rude again. But Kayla wasn’t exactly Little Miss Etiquette either, even despite the handshake and formal introduction.

She just raised an eyebrow at his tone and shrugged.

“Okay,” she said. “I’ll be here. Quiet. Drinking soda.”

Nothing more was said. The door closed with a click, and Elio strained his ears, trying to hear any sign that the storm might be starting to pass, even just a little. No such luck. It was only getting worse, the sky as black as if it were the middle of the night.

Elio walked away from the interaction, the one he’d gone into expecting to be polite and suave and get control back, now feeling like he was somehow on the back foot again. No wonder this Kayla person was in that line of work, serving papers and sneaking around private property. She seemed to have a natural gift for getting the upper hand, no matter the situation.

CHAPTER 6

ELIO

Elio went through the motions of making dinner even though he wasn’t remotely hungry. Marc had been right. He needed to at least be decent to this woman while she was here. He already had enough people talking badly about him; adding one more to the mix wasn’t exactly a bright idea.

The very least he could do was make her some dinner. Maybe he could even get some more details out of her about the lawsuit, something said offhand by the olive-eating idiot and his lawyer. It couldn’t hurt to try, even though Kayla seemed far too smart to let details like that just slip out of her mouth unnoticed. Either way, forcing her to stay in her room seemed, at best, unethical. With all of the house staff safely on the mainland, Elio was left to fend for himself in the kitchen, so dinner consisted of pasta and tomato sauce with a bunch of random herbs thrown on top for good measure. If it tasted bad, he really couldn’t find it in himself to care.

He knocked on the door to the guest suite, and Kayla opened up almost immediately. Despite himself, Elio had to take a moment to take in how pretty she really was. Her eyes, of course, grabbed his attention every time she looked at him, but now her hair was unraveled from its braid and hung to her waist in a mass of wild blond curls. He’d never really seen anyone quite like her before. But for all of Kayla’s earlier zest and irreverence, she seemed more cautious now as she peeked out and looked up at Elio as he stood there. Maybe the reality of them being stuck together was starting to hit home because it certainly was for Elio. The whole thing was ridiculous.

“Uh, dinner is served,” he said. He’d been aiming for civil and instead came out sounding far too formal like this was a meal that he wanted to take part in. She seemed to feel the same way at least, offering him a tight-lipped smile and following him through the villa until they came to the dining room, where he’d set down two plates filled with pasta as well as some water and wine. There was no way he was going to attempt to get through this without at least some alcohol within reach. He wasn’t superhuman.

“Thanks,” Kayla said as she sat down opposite him, the width of the smooth oak table stretching out between them. As soon as Elio sat and took a sip of wine, she followed suit, putting her glass to her lips. At least he wasn’t the only one that needed a drink.

“That’s really good,” she said, putting the glass back down.

Despite himself, Elio preened under the praise. “Thank you. I made it.”

“What, like you went out and squished grapes with your feet?”

Elio choked back a sigh. “No. As in, I run the company that makes it.”

“Does anyone still do the whole pressing out the juice with their feet thing, anyway?”

“Not if they want FDA approval, they don’t.”

“Fair. I can imagine there’d be some health concerns with feet coming into contact with wine.”

“Can you maybe stop talking about feet during dinner?” Elio asked, abandoning his mission to be civil and glaring at her across the table. But, of course, she looked triumphant at having gotten under his skin.

“Sure,” she said, taking another pointed sip before tucking into her dinner.

As Kayla ate, she looked around the room like she’d never seen anything like it before, as if a dining room was that interesting. Maybe to her it was. Elio had no idea what was going on in this woman’s head.

“So,” she said, and Elio looked up from his plate to see her staring at him instead of the decor. “You make wine? Or your company does, at least?”

“I thought you would have already known that.”

“Why? Are you supposed to be famous?”

Elio turned his attention to his food to keep from rolling his eyes at her. “I figured you would have looked into me, considering your rather elaborate setup to serve me legal papers. Didn’t you want to know who you were chasing down?”

“Believe it or not, you’re not that interesting.”

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