The Bravo Billionaire. Christine RimmerЧитать онлайн книгу.
more, because she’d completely forgotten whatever she’d started out to say.
Jonas didn’t seem to mind. He shut her door, waved at her and then stood there, rain pouring down on him, staring in her side window at her, looking slightly put out.
She realized he was waiting for her to start the car and drive away.
Well, all right. Good idea.
She turned the key, put the vehicle in gear and drove around the big open space in front of the mansion, until she was pointed toward the long drive down the hill, between the double row of palm trees. Jonas remained there, in the rain, watching her. She couldn’t resist repeated glances in her rearview mirror. He stayed right where she’d left him, staring after her.
He should go in, get out of the rain. But he didn’t. And she got so absorbed in checking on him that she almost drove smack dab into a palm tree.
That did it. She kept her eyes on the drive ahead from then on.
At home, which was half of a roomy duplex in North Hollywood, with three bedrooms and a tiny patch of patio in back, the Yorkies were waiting, their little bodies shaking with joy, even yipping once or twice, to welcome her back. She knelt and picked them up, first Bob and then Ted, letting them swipe their doggy kisses on her cheeks and telling them how very glad she was to see them again.
“Oh, you little sweeties. It has been a whole hour….”
Festus, the black-and-white cat who had shown up at her door the first week she came to L.A. and lived with her ever since, sat back in the open arch that led to the kitchen. He was much too dignified to beg for attention. Once she’d greeted the Yorkies, Emma went to him. He allowed her to stroke his head and scratch him behind the ears.
Emma hung her coat in the closet by the front door. The Yorkies pranced behind her down the hall as she went to her bedroom to pack for her wedding trip.
Her wedding trip…
Good Lord in heaven. Was this really happening? Had she actually agreed to marry Jonas Bravo? Tomorrow. In Las Vegas.
The idea of it stole all the breath right out of her body. She sat down on the edge of her bed with its cute white iron frame and comforting white chenille spread. The Yorkies jumped up to sit beside her.
What had he said? That he had important meetings on Wednesday, so they’d be back by tomorrow night. It would be a short trip, not a lot of time for seeing the sights.
But even though they weren’t staying the night, she’d need to pack a few things, make a few arrangements. She picked up the phone on the bedside table and called Deirdre Laventhol.
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