How to Trap a Tycoon by Elizabeth Bevarly (thriller books to read txt) 📕

"Married?" Adam echoed, clearly horrified by the prospect.

The petite blonde nodded and, although Dorsey would have sworn such a thing was totally impossible, she crowded her tiny body even more closely into his. "Yes, married," she said insistently. "For the last four months, I've been setting my tycoon trap for you, and you still haven't stepped into it."

Wow . If Dorsey had thought Adam was angry before, she was severely mistaken. Because at Desiree's casually offered comment, he suddenly went utterly still, utterly silent, utterly…

Uh-oh.

"You, uh … you've been setting a tycoon trap since you met me?" he asked very softly.

She nodded. "I've done everything that Lauren Grable-Monroe told me to do. I found you exactly where she told me I'd find you, and I did all the things she said to do in her book, but I still don't have you trapped. I mean, you didn't even notice the new diaphanous gown I wore the last time I was here." She turned her face up to look at him and—unbelievable, Dorsey thought—didn't even seem to notice that he was absolutely livid.

"Do go on, Desi," he said, once again speaking in that soft, scary voice.

"So, Desiree, looks like you could use a refill," Dorsey cut in quickly, hoping to defuse the tension. She reached across the bar to snatch the woman's empty glass out of her elegantly manicured—and, inescapably, pink—fingertips.

Desiree smiled her gratitude. "Thank you. You've been so considerate and so helpful tonight. Adam's so lucky to have you." For a moment, Dorsey felt guilty for all of the mean-spirited thoughts she'd been having all night about poor Desiree. Then, "Good help is so hard to find," poor Desiree said.

Dorsey's fingers tightened on the glass. "So, Desi. You were saying something about luring Adam into your tycoon trap. And here I've been thinking that he's the kind of man who would chew his own foot off before he'd let something like that happen. I do wish you'd go on."

The other woman brightened. "Oh, have you read How to Trap a Tycoon?" she asked.

Dorsey nodded indulgently. "Chapter seven had me glued to my chair," she said.

Desiree's expression clouded. "That's funny. Chapter seven had me squirming in mine. That whole crème de menthe thing was just so…" She squinched up her pink little face in something akin to deep thought, then added, "Although maybe if I'd done the crème de menthe thing, Adam would have proposed by now. And then I wouldn't have to do it anymore, because wives aren't expected to be so inventive. All they have to do is lie there and—"

"Desi," Adam interrupted. He intercepted the drink that Dorsey had eagerly extended toward her and set it back down on the bar. "I think you've had enough. God knows I have. I'm going to find Lucas Conaway and ask him to drive you home."

It was at that point that Edie Mulholland, who had been working alongside Dorsey much of the night, returned to the bar to refill a serving tray with flutes of champagne. "What are you, nuts?" she interjected when she heard Adam's statement, drowning out Desiree's halfhearted protests. "You get Lucas Conaway to take her home, she'll never get there."

Adam threw her a funny look. "What are you talking about?"

"Just … you know … Lucas Conaway," she repeated, as if that were explanation enough. At Adam's still befuddled expression, she added, "How can you trust him to behave himself with a woman in her condition?"

"What, are you nuts?" Adam asked this time. "Lucas is the only man here I can trust to behave himself with a woman in this condition."

This was obviously news to Edie, Dorsey noted, and she couldn't help but wonder why the other bartender was taking such an interest in the matter, anyway.

"Why? Is he gay?" Edie asked pointedly.

Adam shook his head and laughed. Hard. "Lucas Conaway gay? Ah, no. But taking advantage of intoxicated women isn't his style at all."

This, too, was clearly news to Edie. And to Dorsey, too, for that matter. After all, Lucas Conaway had been the one who wanted to put carnivorous ants all over Lauren Grable-Monroe's naked, staked-down, honey-covered backside. If that wasn't taking advantage, Dorsey didn't know what was.

The clock behind her chimed again, once this time, announcing the quarter hour, and Desiree evidently took it as her cue to lose consciousness. Because it was right about then that her delicate eyelids began to flutter, and her tiny body went slack. It was only at the last possible moment that Adam caught her, before she would have fallen face first into her untouched cosmopolitan—bonking her head on the bar in the process, no doubt—something Dorsey realized belatedly that she would rather have liked to see.

Adam sighed heavily and glanced down at his watch. "Damn," he muttered under his breath. "Will this night never end?"

Chapter 9

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I t was after one A.M. when Mack finally finished breaking down the bar, and Adam didn't think he'd ever seen her looking more exhausted. She seemed to be stretching herself pretty thin these days, what with working on her Ph.D. studies, working on a dissertation, working at Drake's, working at Severn… Hell, all Mack seemed to do in life was work on something, he thought now. Funny, he'd never noticed before that the two of them had that in common.

But where Adam thrived on his work, Mack's was obviously beginning to wear her down. And for what? he wondered. He himself had a lot to show for all the time he put in for the magazine. He'd gone out of his way to take advantage of the financial rewards inherent in a position like his. And he felt not a twinge of guilt for buying himself all the expensive toys he had purchased over the years. He'd worked his ass off to earn every last one of them, even if his work wasn't