Billionaire's Love Suite by Catherine Lanigan

smile.
    Trent looked at Justin whose eyes were still locked on Shana. “I gotta be
downtown for a meeting at one. See you kids later,” he said and left.
    Justin walked over to Shana and put his hand on her shoulder. “How are
you?” he asked with sincere concern.
    “Fine. Why?”
    Shrugging his shoulders he said, “Because I think you look like you
need a ride.”
    “A ride?”
    “Yeah. Take a break. Get-out-of-the-office-for-a-few- minutes kind of
ride.”
    “But I have the report on the Toronto property ready for you. We should
go over this first.”
    Justin’s face was stern and his voice even more obdurate. She knew this
mood of his. He wanted things his way and that’s all there was to it. “Bring
it,” he said and put his hand on the small of her back, leading her toward
the door.

    ****

    The ride was in a horse drawn carriage that took them around Central
Park as if they were tourists. Summer was coming in fast leaving spring
blossoms behind and promising an explosion of cooling tree canopies. This
was Shana’s favorite time of year when the world was green and full of life.
To her, the world was suddenly filled with hope.
    Justin was clearly at ease as he leaned back and stretched his arm out
along the back of the carriage, though he was careful not to touch her shoulders.
“Just look at that sky, would you. Crystal blue. Not a cloud in sight.”
    “It’s beautiful,” she said gazing heavenward.
    “This is the way to do business. Outside in the sunshine,” he said with
a broad smile and pleasure cracking around his eyes. “If I had my way, I’d
have my office on the roof top terrace.”
    Shana’s spine straightened as she jerked away from the back of the seat. “What a great idea.”
    “What?” his eyes scanned hers.
    “We could do that. We could expand your penthouse apartment to the terrace
and put in a glass and screened-in area that would serve as your office.
There’s a utility entrance on the side of the apartment that leads directly to
the terrace so that all your visitors and business associates wouldn’t have to
come through the main entrance at all.”
    Justin was astonished. “How do you do that?”
    “Do what?”
    “Take a simple thought and transform it into a major project.”
    She put her hands on her hips as she defended herself. “That’s not what
I’m doing. I like to think I turn dreams into reality. You clearly like the outdoors.
I saw that stack of sailing yacht magazines you’ve got stowed under
your desk where you think no one sees them. And yet, you don’t sail. All
you do is work. If you’re going to be a workaholic, at least do it in an environment
that is in tune with your nature. You’ll live longer, believe me.”
    He stared at her and then closed his gaping mouth. “You think I’m a
workaholic?”
    Both her eyebrows hitched up. “And you don’t know this?”
    He shoved his palms in the air as if to ward off any more accusations.
“Okay. Okay. I work hard. And you’re wrong. I do have a sailboat.”
    Casting him a wary glare she asked, “And when was the last time you
took her out?”
    Justin harrumphed. “I haven’t yet.”
    ”Oh, so you just bought her.”
    “In June.”
    Shana stared at him. “Justin, it’s only the first of June now.”
    “Last June.”
    Shana lifted her chin arrogantly. “Then my idea for the garden office
makes more sense for you than I’d thought. I’ll work up some numbers.”
    She opened her shoulder strapped briefcase and withdrew a yellow pad.
She had only jotted half a sentence to herself when his hand clamped down
on top of hers.
    “The only thing I want you to work up is me,” he said and slanted his
mouth over hers.
    It had only been forty-eight hours since she’d kissed Justin and for Shana
it had felt like an eternity. For two days she’d told herself that once they
were back in New York, Justin would forget about her. He would replace
her and they would go