To Catch a Billionaire Dragon

Chapter Two

Laurel leaned against the cage wall, the sudden upset jolting her mind back to reality. Her imagination had transported her to other spheres the moment she saw the man. He was exactly what her book had been missing and her story had taken flight in her mind, making her forget everything else around her.

She couldn't ignore the surroundings now. She so didn't need this. She had to get back to her computer so she could write everything down while it was still fresh in her mind. She wanted to pound the door and demand it open right this instant, but the man had already taken charge. He pressed the intercom button on the control panel and the doorman's voice came through the small loudspeaker, metallic and small.

"Yes?"

"Edwards, this is Mr. Avery. I'm stuck in the elevator between the thirteenth and fourteenth floors. Please call the service company. Or failing that, the fire department." Edwards promised to get right to it and the man, Mr. Avery, turned to her. "This could take a while."

Laurel sighed. "I guess there's nothing to it but wait." She glanced at the floor, and finding it clean enough, sat down in one corner. Mr. Avery leaned against the opposite corner. Since she was still hungry, she picked up her bagel again, but it didn't taste as good anymore.

"Are you visiting the building?"

She turned her attention back to him. She had a vague recollection of him talking about servants' entrance. Did he think she was one? He was looking at her with curious interest. It was at odds with the imagined character she had just based on him—aloof, arrogant and disinterested—and she frowned.

"I'm staying at Mr. and Mrs. Braddock's apartment for the summer."

His eyebrows shot up. "I would have thought they wouldn't let anyone house-sit after last year's fiasco."

She smiled ruefully. "They made me sign a contract assuring that I wouldn't let anyone in, not even my family." Violating it would mean losing not just her accommodation but her agent too, but it had been an easy paper to sign, since she didn't have any family.

But even if she'd had, the opportunity had been too good to miss. Every year the Braddocks moved to Martha's Vineyard for the summer and one of Mrs. Braddock's clients would stay in their New York apartment. It was a good arrangement that gave the author a quiet place to work in and the Braddocks peace of mind knowing their home was looked after.

Last year, however, the man they had trusted the place with had held parties so riotous that more than once the police had been called in to shut them down. It truly was a wonder Ellen had given Laurel a chance this year. But she wanted Laurel to write the follow-up to her bestseller as fast as possible, and that wasn't easy when she shared a place in Brooklyn with four people, three of whom were artists who all worked at home.

Mr. Avery smiled, which softened his strong features. Her character wouldn't smile with such warmth, but it suited him. "I take it you're one of Ellen's clients, then."

"Yes."

"Have I read anything you've written?"

His interest seemed genuine, but she rolled her eyes. "I doubt it."

He stiffened, affronted. "I do read."

"Not what I write."

"What, sappy historical romances with barely enough plot around sex scenes?"

"No," she answered, but she sounded defensive. A girl had to eat, and ghostwriting anything that paid had seen her through a dry period after college. "I write high fantasy."