Billionaire Romance: Out of The Cold (Book One) by Violet Walker Page A

looking after overly-friendly Rhodesian
Ridgebacks, but she spent so much time volunteering at the SPCA
that handling rambunctious dogs was second nature to her. Now and
again when Henry left out of town, he asked her to look after the
big doofus, who was actually fairly well-behaved except for his
begging habit. “I never really mind doggie begging. He’s a happy
guy. We’ll just have to remember to bring him next time you take me
out here to show off one of your houses.” She prayed that would be
often, and soon. Just taking a quiet drive out to the country with
him made her happier.
    He nodded, flashing a
brief grin. Restoring both the old houses and the local economy of
this part of the Catskills was one of his personal missions. She
had never met anyone who loved crumbling stone farmhouses as much
as Henry and could only hope that the steady stream of holiday
homebuyers he counted on materialized. He wasn’t hurting for money
if the risks he took didn’t pan out, but she could imagine his
disappointment if they didn’t. The whole area up here was
economically depressed and filled with ancient, decrepit bits of
American history begging for restoration. His dream was to bring
jobs and money to the area by restoring those houses, and she had
worked hard to help him in every way she could.
    It was a three hour drive
from the city into the west end of Ulster County, where his project
restored houses in cooperation with the local housing initiative.
His foreman on the project, a local named James Thompson, was
scheduled to meet them there in a few hours. Meanwhile, there was
nothing to do but sit next to the man whose company she coveted
most and struggle to find something interesting to say.
    Fortunately, Henry was a
talker, always going on about his projects or his ambitions or his
dog. Never girlfriends, she noticed, and he didn't wear a ring.
That just added fuel to her inappropriate fantasies. Right now, she
watched his lips move, that Cupid’s bow curve to them and the way a
little smile kept coming through as he talked. “...Forgot to ask if
you eat beef. Sorry about that. I figured I’d cook for
us.”
    Oh wow. “Beef’s fine,” she mumbled, her heart rate
jumping. He was going to cook for them. He might be crap at it for
all she knew, but the thought was there. It was very hard not to
misinterpret that as something romantic. She struggled with her
feelings, and couldn’t stop smiling. “If I had known you were going
all out I would have brought dessert.”
    “Oh no, no problem, got it
covered. I bake for a hobby, when Monty lets me anyway. He’s a damn
muffin thief. That’s why he’s got a goddamn muffin butt. But
anyway, don’t worry, I've got a Dutch apple pie in the
trunk.”
    God, could you be any more
perfect? She squirmed and clenched her
knees together under her skirt, doing her best to fend off even
more unrealistic but delightful daydreams.
     
    Outside the window, bare
trees flashed past, the ground carpeted in fallen leaves slowly
graying as the season’s icy rain worked them down into the soil. It
had snowed a few times so far, little more than frost, which melted
away as soon as the sun touched it. Out here, though, winter was
sinking its fangs into the land faster. She saw glimmers of snow on
the peaks as they drove down the state route, and when she took off
her glove and touched the window, the glass felt like
ice.
    “Did James say something
about the weather?” he asked distractedly as he kept an eye on a
tailgater in his rear-view mirror. People Upstate drove like they
all had to pee. The beater Chevy behind them honked its horn, and
she glanced at the speedometer. They were already five miles above
the speed limit and it still wasn’t enough for this impatient ass.
Henry let his foot off the gas gradually, slowing down
incrementally until the Chevy driver was practically on their
bumper. More honking. The idiot finally swerved over and passed
them, flashing an obscene gesture