Her Convenient Millionaire Read Online Free

them. Then he backed away.
    As Sherry Nyland watched him, he backed all the way to his car; but still she didn’t move. It wasn’t until he got inside the car and closed the door that she came to pick up her belongings. Then she turned to walk farther down the beach. Mike started his car and followed, driving slowly along the curb. When she looked over her shoulder at him, he let the engine idle a minute, allowing her to move ahead, but he wasn’t going to let her out of his sight until she got to wherever she was going.
    Sherry looked back at him another time or two, then changed direction abruptly, marching across the beach toward him. Mike stopped the car and rolled the window down as he waited for her.
    â€œYou’re driving on the wrong side of the road,” she announced.
    â€œI know.” He shrugged. “There’s nobody else out here. I figure if somebody does come, I’ll stop and pretend I’m parked.”
    â€œWhy are you doing this?” She held her purse clutched tight in one hand.
    â€œI want to be sure you get safely to where you’re going. Then I won’t bother you anymore.”
    â€œYou just being here bothers me.” Sherry folded her arms, and glared at him.
    Mike just looked back. “I’m sorry about that.” But even so, he wasn’t going to do anything different.
    Finally she sighed. “You’re not going to go away, are you.” It wasn’t a question.
    â€œNope. Not till I know you’re safe somewhere.” Was she giving in? He felt a tiny niggle of hope.
    With another, bigger sigh she walked around the front of the car and got in beside him. “Fine,” she said. “You win. Take me home. See what happens.”
    He wanted to say something about winning and losing not being the point here, but couldn’t figure out how. So he just pulled across the empty lanes of traffic to the proper side of the street. “Where to?”
    â€œI don’t even care anymore.”
    What was that all about?
    Mike slid a glance in Sherry’s direction as he made a totally illegal U-turn in the middle of the block and headed back toward the north end of the island and the address on her license. It didn’t matter. He’d take her home and that would be the end of it. He’d never have to see her again. Unless, of course, she came back to the club.

Two
    M ike glanced at his passenger. Something wasn’t right here. Sherry sat slumped against the door, all the fight gone out of her. He told himself he was doing the right thing, tried to wall off the guilt that rose when he saw her drooping head, her hands lying limp in her lap instead of clutching that useless purse for all it was worth. She needed to be home.
    Letting a pampered local like Sherry Nyland stay alone on the beach all night was as inhumane as turning a crippled parakeet loose in a room full of hungry cats.
    He found the address he’d memorized and turned in the drive. “Give me your keys.” He held out his hand.
    Dully, without any of the spunk or sparkle she’d shown on the beach, Sherry found her keys and dropped them in his hand. Mike walked around and opened the door for her. She didn’t move. He had to practically lift her out of the seat, then he walked her up to the wide, plantation-stylefront porch. He put the key in the lock, but it wouldn’t turn.
    Puzzled, he looked at the collection of keys again. The other two were definitely car keys. Lexus. Downscale for this town. He tried the house key again. Still wouldn’t turn.
    â€œYou’re sure this is where you live?” He held the key-chain out to her.
    She took it but let it slip through her fingers to the porch. “That’s what it says on my driver’s license, doesn’t it?”
    Mike frowned and rang the doorbell. It was late, but he didn’t care, not anymore. He could hear a faraway echo of sound in the big house, though this one