Maid for the Billionaire by Ruth Cardello

picked the Choice of Excursion
card out of the pile and held it up for all three men to see. She
showed it happily to each, not minding that they sat back in their
chairs as if she'd mortally wounded each of them. "You know what
this means?" she knew her voice held a bit of smugness.
    "Paddleboats," the three men said in
disgusted union.
    She held up another card, unable to stop
herself from enjoying some of her winnings. "And this one?"
    "Do you even have any movies with you?" one
of the body guards asked.
    "Mrs. Duhamel set me up," Abby replied. "I'll
just have to decide between Meg Ryan and Sandra Bullock. You guys
aren't closet criers, are you? Should I call down for a box of
tissues?"
    She knew she should stop, but it was really
too much fun. The men looked positively miserable.
    Scott pulled out the one card he'd balked
against. "And what about this one?" he asked.
    The mood turned serious for a moment. She
knew that Dominic had written up instructions with her safety in
mind and, as much fun as it had been to win the outing, she wasn't
going to do anything deliberately foolhardy. She shook her head.
"There is nowhere I need to go. It was just fun to win it."
    He placed the card in his shirt pocket
looking more relieved than he likely wanted her to see. The men
beside him nodded and Abby knew that she'd gained their respect in
that moment. She wasn't here to endanger them or give them trouble.
Her goal had been to harmlessly have a little fun.
    Still, she couldn’t help wondering what they
would have done if she’d actually named an off limits destination.
Something told her that these men were not always so congenial.
They were humoring her because Dominic had instructed them to and
like so many other people in Dominic’s world, they did his bidding
without question.
    Knowing that, the paddleboat excursion seemed
almost cruel. Abby remembered how confident they’d all been that
they’d whip her at Poker and she bit her lip to hide her
mischievous grin. Nothing wrong with a little payback.
    "I'm going to go change. I think the rental
place is open until five," she announced gleefully and was rewarded
with a round of dramatic groans.
    The walls of the hotel must have been thinner
than what they were used to because Abby could hear the men as they
cleared the table. One of them said, "I can't believe you told her
what people are saying about Dominic."
    The other, older guard said, "I can't believe
you said you wished you'd met her first. If that got back to
Dominic you could kiss your company goodbye. Was the joke really
worth it?"
    "Who said I was kidding?" Scott asked.
    "Don't do anything stupid, Scott," one of
them warned.
    "I didn't say I'd act on it. I just voiced
what the two of you are too afraid to say out loud. That is one
incredible woman."
    Abby pressed her back up against the door,
knowing she should stop listening, but unable to. She sought more
than compliments. These unguarded moments could provide her with
some insight to what this trip was really about.
    "Do you think it's true that he met her this
week?"
    "Walton has had me following Dominic since he
received news about his father. It's true,” Scott said and Abby
smothered an involuntary gasp with both of her hands.
    "Did Dominic know that you were already on
his tail before he asked you to come with him?" It gave Abby no
comfort to hear her surprise echoed in the voice of the other
guard.
    "I'm pretty confident that he had no idea,"
Scott said with confidence.
    "Are you still reporting to Jake?" one of
them asked him.
    There was a long pause before Scott
reluctantly answered, "Yes."
    "Oh, man, he'll kill us if he finds out."
    The sound of feet shuffling was followed by
what could have been the slam of a body against a wall. Abby’s
hands shook against her mouth, but she could not force herself away
from the rest of the conversation.
    "He's not going to find out." Scott’s easy
manner slid away, revealing the cold voice of a man who didn’t