Falling For Her Fake Fiancé (The Beaumont Heirs 5) Read Online Free Page A

get over that nasty flu that’s been going around...” She lifted a shoulder, as if to say it was only a matter of time. “You’ll have things completely under control within days.” Then, just to pour a little lemon juice in the wound, she leaned forward. His gaze held—he didn’t even glance at her cleavage.
Damn. Time to up the ante.
    She let her eyes drift over those massive shoulders and the broad chest. He was quite unlike the thin, pale men who populated the art world circles she moved within. She could still feel his lips on the back of her hand.
    Oh, yes, she could play this game. For a short while, she could feel like Frances Beaumont again—powerful, beautiful, holding sway over everyone in her orbit. She could use Ethan Logan to get back what she’d lost in the past six months and—if she was very lucky—she might even be able to inflict some damage on AllBev through the Brewery. Corporate espionage and all that.
    So she added in a confidential voice, “I have faith in your abilities.”
    “Do you?”
    She looked him up and down again and smiled. A real smile this time, not one couched to elicit a specific response. “Oh, yes,” she said, turning away from him. “I do.”

Three
    H e needed her.
    That crystal clear revelation was quickly followed by a second—and far more depressing one—Frances Beaumont would destroy him if he gave her half the chance.
    As he watched Frances move around his office, taking pictures of the furniture and antiques and making completely harmless small talk about potential buyers, he knew he would have to risk the latter to get the former.
    The way all those workers had been eating out of her hand—well, out of her donut box? The way not a single damn one of them had gotten back to work when he’d ordered them to—but they’d all jumped when Frances Beaumont had smiled at them?
    It hurt to admit—even to himself—that the workers here would not listen to him.
    But they would listen to her.
    She was one of them—a Beaumont. They obviously adored her—even Delores, the old battle-ax, had bowed and scraped to this stunningly beautiful woman.
    “If you wouldn’t mind,” she said in that delicate voice that he was completely convinced was a front. She kicked out of her shoes and lined one of the conference chairs up beneath a window. She held out her hand for him. “I’d like to get a better shot of the friezes over the windows.”
    “Of course,” he said in his most diplomatic voice.
    This woman—this stunning woman who’s fingertips were light and warm against his hand as he helped her balance onto the chair, leaving her ass directly at eye level—had already ripped him to shreds several times over.
    She was gorgeous. She was clearly intelligent. And she was obviously out to undermine him. That’s what the donuts had been about. Announcing to the world in general and him in particular that this was still the Beaumont Brewery in every sense of the word.
    “Thank you,” she murmured, placing her hand on his shoulder to balance herself as she stepped down.
    She didn’t stick the landing, although he couldn’t say if that was accidental or on purpose.
    Before he could stop himself, his arm went around her waist to steady her.
    Which was a mistake because electricity arced between them. She looked up at him through those lashes—he’d lost count of how many times she’d done that so far—but this time it hit him differently.
    After almost a month of dealing with passive-aggressive employees terrified of being downsized he suddenly felt like a very different man altogether.
    “Thank you,” she said again, in a quiet whisper that somehow felt more honest, less calculated than almost every other word she’d uttered so far. Imperceptibly, she leaned into him. He could feel the heat of her breasts through his suit.
    As soon as he was sure she wouldn’t fall over, he stepped well clear of her. He needed her—but he could not need her like that. Not