Page 12 of A Billionaire for Christmas
The moment the last tree left the bed, Sara said, “They’ve finished unloading. I should go.”
“No need to rush. Let me buy you lunch.” Rhys ignored Quinley’s quirking eyebrow as she pretended to focus on the camera and blatantly eavesdropped.
“Thanks, but I really should go,” she said, making a move toward the cab of the truck. “I need to make a deposit and call about getting a new shipment of trees for the lot, and post a sign at the lot on when they’ll arrive.”
Rhys followed her back around to the driver’s side and closed his fingers over the handle. “Fine. Go do what needs doing, but promise me you’ll come back tonight.”
“Why?”
Because he wanted her to; otherwise he’d have to find an excuse to visit a tree lot with no trees to buy. “We’ll have some of the outdoor trees set up and lit by then, and we'll need more photos. I’ll have Axel or the hotel’s car service pick you up.”
Sara’s gaze flicked to the man in question. “He’s your driver, not your boyfriend.”
The comment earned a poorly disguised cackle from Quinley before Ana hushed her.
“You are correct,” Rhys said, lips quirking. “We’ll grab dinner after the photos.”
Her head canted to the side. “Now it’s dinner, too? Hasn’t anyone ever said no to you before?”
“Not very often.”
“That’s a shame. It builds character,” she said, waving a hand to indicate the truck door and the fact he was in her way and blocking traffic due to all the cars stopping to get a look.
He reluctantly opened the cab and watched once again as she climbed inside with a flash of striped elf leg. “Have it your way. We’ll just have to use all the photos from today of you in costume if you don’t come back to take more. Like Quinley said, it’ll be good advertisement for your parents’ business.”
Sara frowned at him, her small hands clenching over the large steering wheel, a disgruntled expression on her freckled, glittery, beautiful face.
“Fine, I’ll come back. But only because I hate wearing these in photos.”
He grinned at her. “Perfect. I’ll send a car for you at seven. See you then, Sara.”
He stepped back and shut the door with a gentle slam, moving to the sidewalk as she started the truck and put the vehicle in gear. It rumbled away, and he watched until she was out of sight.
“Rhysand Xavier Lachlan,” Quinley drawled in a low,knowingvoice.
He gave her an innocent glance and shoved his hands into his pockets. “Yes?”
Quinley’s gaze narrowed on him until she reminded him of the old schoolmarms seen in classic movies.
“Youlikeher.”
He glanced around, but now that the trees and the truck were gone, the crowd had thinned, and no one was close enough to hear her words. “I am…intrigued.”
Her grin widened, and Quinley shot a look at her best friend before turning back toward him. “Oh, we can tell.”
“You can?”
Quinley flipped the camera around and showed him a photo she’d taken of them when they weren’t posed but just standing there, staring at one another as though neither of them could look away.
“See what I mean?”
ChapterEight
Once she’d made the deposit and got back to the camper, Sara changed her mind a million times on whether or not to call up the hotel and leave a message for Rhys, cancelling the car service and the evening. At least her part in it.
Sara shoved the laptop off her lap onto the couch and glared at the clock, stomach churning when she remembered asking billionaire-heir Rhys Lachlan if his money wasreal.And then? Checking every bill to make sure it wasn’t counterfeit—in front of him.
She groaned and covered her face with her arms as she leaned back into the pillow behind her. The Lachlan family was world-renowned for their business acumen and success, and she’d insulted the man while dressed as araccoon.
