Page 7 of Her Brother's Billionaire Best Friend

One of those electric golf carts pulledup, bearing four guys, some orange safety cones, and what couldonly be described as gator-wrangling equipment. Matthew grabbed thestack of cones, thanking the men piling out of the cart before heasked, “Over there?”

While I didn’t have anyexperience with billionaire CEOs in person, I’d had plenty ofbosses at fast-food places who wouldn’t have dashed into actionduring a lunch rush, let alone a gatormergency. And he’daskedhis workers whatto do, rather than assuming he knew best by default. Myexpectations for rich people were astonishingly low, but I wasimpressed.

He jogged back in my direction. “Okay.Let’s get the fuck out of here before it gets dangerous.” He wavedand thanked the men again, then motioned in the direction I’d comefrom. As we started off, his arm slipped around my waist to guideme off the bridge. Then he pulled quickly back with an embarrassed“Sorry.”

“It’s fine. Just don’t pushme into an alligator-infested pond.”

“Ever?” he asked, as ifbaffled by the request.

I could understand why Scott liked him.Matthew had an easy sense of humor.

“You’re one of those peoplewho feels like they know someone like two seconds after meetingthem, aren’t you?”

“Oh, not at all,” he saidwith a laugh. “I feel like I know you. Your brother talks about youall the time.”

“That’sunsettling.” I couldn’t imagine that there were any good things tosay about me.Hey, this is mysister, she’s never held a job for more than six months.

“He… kind of warned me notto…”

I smirked. “That’s a shame.”

“Well, I never explicitlyagreed to honor his wishes.”

Jackpot.

He winced. “That’s gross, isn’t it? Ipromise, I’m not planning some weird, ‘ha ha, I banged your sister’prank or something like that.”

“I don’t think my brotherwould be friends with someone like that.”

“I don’t either,” Matthewagreed. “We don’t let assholes into our group.”

“I’m pretty sure you’re notgoing to murder me either,” I added.

“You’d be missed. Everybodyknows you’re here.” He motioned down a path that thankfullywouldn’t lead us past my parents’ villa. “This way.”

It wasn’t a surprise that we headedtoward the large main building. “Let me guess. You’ve got aconnection in the kitchen?”

He shook his head.

“Then you know a bellhop whoknows somebody?” I guessed again.

“No, we’re going to myroom,” he said. “If that’s okay with you?”

Thatwas a surprise. “You’re not staying in some luxury owner’squarters? I’m in a private residence.”

With myparents,my brainadded to rub it in.

“Then I guess you’re alittle bit better than me.” His smile hit me like three margaritasand I almost swooned. He went on, “All the private accommodationswere reserved for the wedding party and family guests.”

“Hmm.” I pretended to doubthim.

“Hey, I’m staying in thelargest luxury suite on the property,” he played along. “You shouldstill be impressed.”

I squinched up my face. “We’llsee.”

“Oh, you’ll see,” he teasedme back. “You’ll be eating those words.”

“I’ll be eating everythingout of the snack bar after I smoke up your weed.” I paused. “Imean… if we’re hanging out. That was presumptuous of me. I can geta j to go—”

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