The Billionaire Date

The Billionaire Date
Leigh Michaels

Finding Mr RightKit, Susannah, Alison–Single, successful and not searching for husbands–but love finds them anyway!When Jarrett Webster challenged Kit to organize a charity fund-raiser, a bachelor auction seemed ideal–with Jarrett as the prize! Bids were sure to flood in, and it'd be blissfull revenge for Kit to see Jarrett "sold" to the highest bidder. That would teach him to tease her about being Ms Career Woman!Annoyingly, Jarrett was completely happy to offer an intimate date on his private island. A whole weekend in paradise, with the sexiest man on earth! Try as she might to stop herself, Kit couldn't help thinking how exciting it would be if she could win the billionaire date….

Finding Mr Right (#u86ef9e54-4125-5764-9880-729c473332d5)Letter to Reader (#udbf5d551-5d22-557f-b722-763ff4707566)Title Page (#u77be26e2-5a6b-551a-93f3-83d52d430696)CHAPTER ONE (#ub27d3d9a-a3c6-5926-9a76-1e3f78429d93)CHAPTER TWO (#uf579c55b-9bf0-5a42-a6fe-0fe6f3674c99)CHAPTER THREE (#ue5fa8a47-5d01-5de1-b100-ed71a73e86b7)CHAPTER FOUR (#litres_trial_promo)CHAPTER FIVE (#litres_trial_promo)CHAPTER SIX (#litres_trial_promo)CHAPTER SEVEN (#litres_trial_promo)CHAPTER EIGHT (#litres_trial_promo)CHAPTER NINE (#litres_trial_promo)CHAPTER TEN (#litres_trial_promo)Copyright (#litres_trial_promo)

Finding Mr Right

Welcome to the first book in Leigh Michaels’s wonderful new trilogy—all about dating games and the single woman!

Meet Kit, Susannah and Alison. Three very special women who are friends, business partners—and happily single! Ambitious and successful, they live life to the fullest and have no room on their agenda for husband hunting!

But it seems they don’t have to go looking for Mr Right...because each finds themselves unexpectedly pursued by their very own dream date....

First, we see Kit, sensitive and practical, organizing a bachelor auction that brings an exciting surprise when she wins The Billionaire Date.

Bubbly and impulsive Susannah thought she’d never see Marcus again after their affair ended—until a work project brings them together and Susannah faces The Playboy Assignment (April #3500).

And warmhearted Alison can no longer deny her craving for a baby when she meets a doctor who could help her, and finds herself taking on The Husband Project (May #3504).

You’ll laugh, you’ll cry, but you won’t be able to put these books down as you share in a very special friendship between three wonderful women, and fall in love with the gorgeous men who—eventually—win them over!

Dear Reader,

Over the years I’ve greatly enjoyed writing books that are connected—sequels, prequels and spin-offs. They usually come about because a secondary character in one book is so interesting that he or she demands a story of their own. But until now I’ve never tackled an interconnected set of books, knowing from the very beginning that the stories would be so closely tied together that—while each book can stand alone—the three form a very special package. So the Finding Mr Right trilogy has been both a challenge and a joy.

My editor and I had been talking about a trilogy for some time, and I’d been looking for the perfect setting in which my heroines could be business partners as well as friends. Then one of my friends mentioned that her sister was a partner in an all-woman public relations firm in Kansas City, Missouri. Now that was a story possibility made just for me, since I have a journalism background and public relations experience. And though, to this day, I know nothing more about that real-life PR firm than that it employs only women, I want to thank the members of that company for the inspiration they provided for the Finding Mr Right trilogy.

And I thank you, my wonderful readers, for following along through the fifteen years since my first book was published, all the way to this new challenge. I think you’ll enjoy meeting Kit, Susannah and Alison every bit as much as I enjoyed writing about them. I must warn you, though—I cried when I had to give up these three special new friends....

With love,

P.S. I love to hear from readers! You can write to me at: P.O.

Box 935, Ottumwa, Iowa, 52501-0935.

The Billionaire Date

Leigh Michaels

www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)

CHAPTER ONE

NO MATTER how carefully she counted, Kit couldn’t get past ten.

Of course, she told herself, the problem this time wasn’t that she was mathematically inept—though she was, as a matter of fact, and her partners never hesitated to remind her of it. But she hadn’t forgotten how to count. It was just that the room was small and crammed with giggling, nervous, very young women. Twelve of them, Kit knew. There had to be twelve. Except they were milling about, half-dressed, with makeup and hairbrushes and curling irons in hand, and no matter how carefully she tried to keep track of who was where, she could only see ten.

She climbed onto a chair and stuck two fingers in her mouth to give a keening whistle worthy of a professional sports referee. The sound level diminished instantly, and Kit took advantage of the opportunity. “Would everybody just shut up and stand still for one minute while I take roll?”

She counted heads. There were still only ten.

That figured, she thought. Just fifteen minutes before the start of the fashion show, with the audience already in place, two of her amateur models must have ducked off to the ladies’ room. She only hoped they weren’t actually sick with nerves.

Though it wouldn’t be any surprise, considering the way the rest of the function’s gone, she reminded herself. At least it’ll be over in two more hours, and with any luck I’ll never have to deal with another fashion show in my life, or the debutante crowd, either. “Who’s missing?”

The girls looked around as if surprised. Finally a slender blonde in the corner said, “Marliss and Shelby.”

“Well, go find them, will you, Heather? We only have a few more minutes to get you all ready to go out on the runway.”

Heather giggled. “I wish I could. Shelby’s dad invited her to New York City for the weekend, and she asked Marliss to go with her. They’re planning to see a Broadway show, and shop all the way across Manhattan, and—”

Kit’s heart seemed to bounce off her toes. “They just took off for New York?”

“Well, sure,” Heather said. “Wouldn’t you, if you’d had the chance?”

In a flash. Kit wanted to say. Or anywhere else, as a matter of fact. “All right. Each of them was supposed to model three outfits, so somebody will have to double up.” She reached for the clipboard that held the list of dresses and models arranged in sequence. “Jackie, you’re first. If we can add another change in between your first two—”

The small, plump brunette shook her head. “I wouldn’t mind, but I can’t fit in the outfits they were going to model. That long gown Shelby looks so good in would drag clear to Kansas if I tried to wear it.”

She was correct, Kit realized. “All right, who’s the closest in size? I’ll probably have to rearrange the order you go out in to leave time for the extra clothing changes.” But she couldn’t, she realized. Not only would the emcee be expecting them to follow the original schedule, but Kit had spent hours matching his cue cards to her list. She looked at the schedule and reminded herself that throwing the clipboard would do no good—even if it might make her feel better for a moment or two. “Who’s closest in size?” she repeated.

The girls looked doubtfully at each other. “Well, actually, you are, Ms. Deevers,” Jackie said finally. “Shelby’s the tallest of us all, just about your height. And Marliss is skinny and flat-chested, just like you.”

Thanks for pointing it out, Kit wanted to say. But sarcasm would do no good at the moment, and Jackie’s observation was every bit as true as it was unflattering. For the thousandth time, Kit cursed the fashion show, the debs who had come up with the original idea and the mad impulse that had made her agree to bail them out after they’d gotten in over their heads. It had all looked so simple when they’d come into Tryad’s office just two weeks ago, in despair over a fund-raising idea gone sour and in need of professional help.

“Sorry,” Jackie added. “I didn’t mean that the way it sounded.”

“Never mind,” Kit muttered. She took a deep breath. She was in for it, that was obvious. It was far too late to wash her hands of the mess and walk out. She’d have to follow through to the end. “All right—you’ll have to get yourselves lined up for the first trip down the runway while I get dressed.” She ran her gaze over the schedule and flipped through the clothing rack till she found Marliss’s first outfit. Just an hour ago the garments had been arranged carefully in order of use. Then the girls had come in and started stirring things around as they got ready.

This bunch doesn’t need a public relations person keeping them in line, she thought. They need a lion tamer.

She slid into a pair of sapphire blue chiffon harem pants. Despite their fullness, she felt as if she was wearing nothing at all. The fabric was so wispy it was translucent, and the band that held the garment up came to rest much closer to the curve of her hip than to her waist.

She wondered again, as she had earlier when she’d gotten her first good look at the racks, who had been such an idiot as to select these clothes to be modeled by girls still in their teens. But it was far too late for that question.

Kit was just reaching for the brief-cut top that matched the harem pants when the door opened.

“Who’s in charge here?” a male voice demanded.

Hastily Kit pulled the top over her head, trying to look over her shoulder at the same time in order to get a glimpse of the owner of that rich, insistent voice. One of the girls’ fathers, perhaps, objecting to her activities?

Well, if he was going to try to snatch his daughter out of the lineup at this late date, Kit decided, she’d... She’d make him take the girl’s place and model her outfits himself!

The room had gone dead quiet.

Kit turned to face the intruder, still trying to settle her brief top into place. Her first impression was of height, dark good looks and a tuxedo that looked as if it had been molded to fit his frame. Then the aura of power that surrounded him hit her like the shock wave of an explosion, almost rocking her off her feet.

No wonder the girls went quiet, Kit thought wryly. She was ten years older than any of them and had a whole lot more experience with men. Still, the way this man was staring at her was enough to rob her of the ability to breathe. There was something about the expression in those huge, dark brown eyes....