The Billionaire Next Door (The BAD BOY BILLIONAIRES Collection) by Judy Angelo Page B

“All right, just put
things on hold for now,” he said.  “I’ll deal with it when I get back.”
    He ended the call then checked the time on the cell
phone screen.  Ten twenty.  He might as well head out now.  This would be his
last chance to see Rafe before he would have to get back to the oil rig.  He
should be honored, he guessed, that his brother had taken two whole days off so
they could connect.  Ransom was grateful although he’d be the last to say it
out loud.  He wasn’t the kind to get all emotional but, no matter what, he
loved his brother and he welcomed the chance to see him.
    Not that Rafe shared the sentiment.  He was as laconic
as ever.
    Ransom bundled up in coat, scarf and gloves and headed
out from the hotel, carefully directing his rental car along the icy road.  He
wanted to get off that road and inside a warm building as soon as possible.
    Within twenty-five minutes of setting out he was pulling
into the driveway of Rafe’s hotel.  He hopped out and headed for the lobby.
    The Princess Royal was a pretty decent hotel with marble
tiles on the floor, elegant faux palms in each corner and a granite counter for
a reception desk.  Here there was a tall vase of fresh-cut roses and these,
surprisingly, were real.  Ransom cocked an eyebrow.  He hadn’t expected fresh
flowers gracing a hotel lobby in such a remote part of Alaska but then he did a
mental shrug.  Why not?  Wasn’t that what green houses were for?
    The desk clerk, tall and willowy and very blonde, gave
Ransom a friendly smile.  “Welcome to the Princess Royal, sir.  How may I help
you?”  As he approached she tapped her computer screen.  “Do you have a
reservation?”
    Ransom returned the smile.  “No, I’m here to see one of
your guests.  Rafe Kent.  He’s expecting me.”
    His greeter nodded and reached for the phone.  “I’ll
call him for you.  Please pick up the receiver at the hall table when the phone
rings over there.”
    When it did, it was a scratchy-voiced Rafe who came on
the phone.
    “Don’t tell me you were still sleeping.  It’s almost
eleven o’clock.”
    “It is?”  Rafe sounded doubtful.  “I went to bed pretty
late.  Sorry.”
    “Yeah, well hurry up and get your butt down here so we
can talk.”
    Ransom hung up and walked over to the elegantly
furnished lounge with its grand piano, handcrafted sculptures and antique
furniture.  What he saw made him upgrade his evaluation from decent to quite
nice.  This definitely was no cheap hotel.  That was one good sign.  As radical
as he was, at least it didn’t look like Rafe had taken a vow of poverty.
    It took another twenty minutes before Rafe made his way
downstairs and by that time Ransom’s stomach was growling.  He hadn’t had
breakfast and, obviously, neither had Rafe.
    “Does this place have a restaurant?  We might as well
grab some grub.”  He got to his feet as Rafe walked into the room.
    “Sure.  Come on.  I’ll take you there.”  He set off, not
bothering to wait for Ransom.  “The food is pretty good.  That’s why I stay
here every chance I get.”
    He was right.  Both he and Rafe chose to have a light
brunch with Rafe stocking up on some fatty but mostly sugary items while he
went for the oatmeal, fruit platter and coffee.  Rafe could afford to be lax. 
He was skinny as a rake.
    Soon enough the meal was over and it was time to talk. 
Ransom got the ball rolling.  “Now tell me what it was you couldn’t have told
me yesterday.”  Pushing his plate to one side he leaned forward, ready to get a
resolution to the mystery.
    Rafe relaxed in his chair and reached over to pull his
glass of water toward him.  He took a slow sip before he spoke.  “Where do I
start?” he asked, not looking at Ransom.  “It’s a long story.”
    “Start at the beginning.”
    Rafe began, and he hadn’t been lying when he’d said it
was a long story.  He went as far back as a year earlier and, like Ransom
should