The Billionaire and His Boss

Alex’s eyes met hers briefly before he looked away.

And once again Paige felt that spark of awareness and attraction.

She had to get control of herself and stop acting like a silly teenager.

On the one hand, the best thing would be to give Alex Noble a wide berth. A really wide berth. On the other hand, that wouldn’t be the best thing for HuntCom.

In fact, she should probably keep a close eye on him. Make sure he was actually doing the job he’d been hired to do.

Maybe she was just paranoid about Alex because he was so attractive. Face it, she chided herself, you’ve been exposed to too many good-looking, self-centred, arrogant men in your lifetime and now you think they’re all like that.

Maybe Alex Noble would prove to be the exception…

PATRICIA KAY,

formerly writing as Trisha Alexander, is the best-selling author of more than thirty contemporary romances. She lives in Houston, Texas. To learn more about her, visit her website at www.patriciakay.com.

Dear Reader,

The whole time I was writing this book, I kept thinking how lucky Paige was, and she didn’t even know it. After all, what young woman wouldn’t want to meet and fall in love with a billionaire? Especially one as handsome and wonderful as Alex. But, as loyal readers of romance know, the course of true love never runs smoothly. And the story of Paige and Alex is no exception.

I hope you enjoy reading their story as much as I enjoyed writing it. And I hope you’re as anxious to read Gray’s story (coming next) as I am. The Hunt brothers really wormed their way into my heart, and I can’t wait to find out what happens next.

As always, thank you for your faithful readership. You are all wonderful and very much appreciated.

Warmly,

Patricia Kay

The Billionaire and His Boss

PATRICIA KAY

This one’s for Gail, with a huge thank you

for all the years of encouragement

and friendship.

Prologue

Mid-July, The Hunt Mansion

Harrison Hunt, founder and CEO of HuntCom, sat behind his enormous mahogany desk in the library of the behemoth he called home and looked from one to the other of his sons. “Four sons and not a marriage among you.” He shook his head in obvious dismay. “I’ve never thought much about my legacy, nor about having grandchildren to carry on the Hunt name. But my heart attack made me face some hard truths. I could have died. I could die tomorrow.”

His face was grimly intent as he continued. “I finally realized that left to your own devices, you four never will get married, which means I’ll never have grandchildren. Well, I don’t intend to leave the future of this family to chance any longer.”

His eyes bored into theirs. “You have a year. One year. By the end of that time, each of you will not only be married, you will either already have a child or your wife will be expecting one.”

Alex Hunt stared at his father. He couldn’t believe what he was hearing, and he could see from the expressions on the faces of his brothers that they felt the same way. Was this a joke? Had that heart attack Harry’d had affected his brain?

“And if any one of you refuses,” Harry continued flatly, ignoring the disbelief in their faces, “you’ll all lose your positions in HuntCom…and the perks you love so much.”

“You can’t be serious,” Gray, the oldest at forty-two, finally said.

“I’m deadly serious.”

J.T., two years older than Alex at thirty-eight, broke the brief, shocked silence. “How will you run the company if we refuse to do what you want?” He reminded their father of the expansions taking place in Seattle and in their Delhi facility. “Construction delays alone would cost HuntCom a fortune.”

But Harry didn’t budge. He said it didn’t matter about the current projects, because if they didn’t agree to do what he was demanding, he would sell the entire HuntCom empire, including the ranch Justin loved so much, the island that was J.T.’s passion, and the foundation that meant so much to Alex. Gray cared about everything. He’d been second-in-command to Harry ever since graduating from college and he fully expected to move into the president’s spot when Harry finally retired.

“Before I die,” Harry continued relentlessly, “I mean to see each of you settled, and with a family started. I want you married to decent women who’ll make good wives and mothers.” He paused for a moment, then added, “And the women you marry have to win Cornelia’s approval.”

“Does Aunt Cornelia know about this?” Justin, who was the youngest brother at thirty-four, asked in disbelief.

Alex also had a hard time believing their sensible honorary aunt would go along with such a nutty scheme.

“Not yet,” Harry admitted.

Alex knew his relief was shared by his brothers. When Cornelia learned about Harry’s plan, she’d put a stop to it. In fact, she was the only one capable of talking Harry out of anything. He would listen to her.

“So,” Justin said, “Let me see if I’ve got this straight. Each of us has to agree to marry and produce a kid within a year—”

“All of you have to agree,” Harry interrupted. “All four of you. If one refuses, everyone loses, and life as you’ve known it—your jobs, the HuntCom holdings you each value so much—will be gone.”

Muttered curses followed this pronouncement.

“And the brides have to be approved by Aunt Cornelia,” Justin said.

If the situation hadn’t been so surreal, Alex would have laughed. If Cornelia’d had to approve Harry’s brides, Alex’s and his brothers’ lives would have been very different.

Harry nodded. “She’s a shrewd woman. She’ll know if any of the women aren’t good wife material.”

Alex looked at Gray, whose expression was furious.

Ignoring their incredulity, Harry went on. “You can’t tell the women you’re rich, nor that you’re my sons. I don’t want another fortune hunter in the family. God knows, I married enough of them myself. I don’t want any of my sons making the same mistakes I made.”

That’s for sure, Alex thought. Every single woman Harry had ever married had been a gold digger. And Alex’s mother was probably the biggest gold digger of them all. As always, thoughts of his mother produced feelings of bitterness. Alex shook it off. Long ago he’d decided dwelling on the subject of his mother was counter-productive.

“I don’t know about my brothers,” Justin finally said, “but my answer is that you can take my job and shove it. Nobody tells me who to marry, or if I’ll marry, or when I’ll have kids.”

Harry’s expression changed. For a moment, Alex actually thought his father’s feelings had been hurt. But hell, what did the old man expect? He was treating them like chattel. As though their feelings didn’t matter at all. Did he think they’d just lie down and take it? After all, they were his sons. But no one had ever told Harry what to do.

“So be it,” Harry said, his voice hardening. He looked around. “What about the rest of you?”

Alex nodded. “I’m not my mother. You can’t buy me.”

Although the brothers all agreed, Harry didn’t back down. His last words before leaving them were, “I’ll give all of you some time to rethink your positions. You have until 8:00 p.m. Pacific time—three days from now. If I don’t hear from you to the contrary before then, I’ll tell my lawyers to start looking for a buyer for HuntCom.”

“Son-of-a-bitch,” Justin swore softly as the door closed behind Harry.

“He’s bluffing,” Gray said. “He’d never sell the company.” His cell phone rang and he glanced at the caller ID before tucking it back in his pocket. “Even if he does hold the controlling interest.” Gray was referring to the fact that their father held fifty-one percent of the stock in HuntCom, so even if all four of them plus their Aunt Cornelia voted no to a sale, Harry’s wishes would prevail.

“I don’t see it happening, either,” J.T. said. But there was doubt in his voice.

“I don’t know,” Justin said slowly. “Cornelia says Harry’s been different since his heart attack.”

Alex hated to admit it, but he agreed with Justin. Even if Harry hadn’t had that heart attack, he was a stubborn man. When he made up his mind about something, it was impossible to sway him.

“Different how?” Gray asked dubiously. His cell phone rang again and he glanced at it impatiently.

“She says he’s been moody, a word I found it hard to believe the old man even knows.”

“Then maybe he is serious,” Alex said, frowning.

“We’re in the middle of a buy-out.” Gray shrugged into his jacket. “There’s no way he’d consider selling the company until it’s finished and that might be months away. He’s bluffing.”

“How can you be sure?” Alex asked. “What if you’re wrong? Do you want to take that chance? Lose everything you’ve worked for over the past eighteen years? I know I sure as hell don’t want to see the Hunt Foundation shut down…or run by someone else.” For years now, Alex had headed the foundation, the philanthropic arm of HuntCom. For Alex, it was more than a job. It was his passion, his raison d’être. As far as he was concerned, the best thing about being a Hunt was the ability and means to do some good in the world.

The brothers continued to discuss Harry’s ultimatum, but since they weren’t getting anywhere, they finally decided to call it a night.

“I’ll see you at the office tomorrow,” Gray said to

J.T. as they all moved toward the door. “We need to go over the figures for that possible plant in Singapore.”

Alex walked with his brothers down the hallway and out of the house to the parking deck, which was halfway up the hillside overlooking Lake Washington. Every time he came here, he marveled at the beauty of the place. Across the lake, the lights of the Seattle skyline shimmered.

Not that Alex wanted to live in a place like this one. Who the hell needed a mansion, anyway? Even when all four of them had lived with Harry, they’d rattled around in the place. And now that their father was alone except for the servants, it seemed ludicrous to have a place this large. But Harry seemed to need the trappings of wealth.

Alex continued to think about his father’s edict as he drove his silver Navigator back to the city where he kept an apartment downtown near the Hunt Foundation offices.

By the time he’d gotten home, fixed himself a drink and a salad and warmed up some leftover chicken piccata that he’d made two days earlier, he was completely convinced that he and his brothers had done the right thing in turning down their father’s deal. It was simply too manipulative. Too cold and calculating. Besides, he was now beginning to think, like Gray, that Harry was bluffing.

Sure, he was stubborn, but Alex had a feeling Harry was counting on the fact his sons knew how stubborn he could be to convince them that he meant what he had said. But Alex also knew his father had worked far too long and too hard to build his empire to ever give it up.

No.

He’d never sell everything. All they had to do was wait him out, and he’d back down.

So when Alex and his brothers were conferenced into a call from Justin the following evening and Justin said he thought they should take the deal, Alex was shocked, even though Justin explained why he thought so.

“I went to see Cornelia,” he said. “And she feels there’s a strong possibility Harry’s threat to sell the company is real. She said she’s been growing increasingly worried about him since his heart attack. She confided that Harry seems uncharacteristically introspective and that on several occasions he’s told her all he wants is for us to be married and to have children. Cornelia says she’s afraid Harry feels a need to right his wrongs and is getting his fiscal and emotional affairs in order in preparation for dying.”

“So you’re willing to let him choose your wife?” Alex said to Justin in disbelief.

“No,” Justin said. “I’m willing to convince him that’s what’s happening, but I’ll do the choosing. I spend half my time in Idaho, not Seattle. I’ll marry someone acceptable to him and set her up in a home in the city and then I’ll go back to Idaho.”

“You think that’ll work?” The question came from J.T.

“Oh, yeah,” Justin drawled, cynicism lacing his tone. “The second she realizes she’s married to a Hunt and has a generous allowance, she’ll gladly live in Seattle while I live wherever the hell I want. I’ll write off the cost of keeping her and the kid as a business expense.”

“Damn, Justin,” Alex said. “That’s cold.” Not to mention dishonest. ButAlex didn’t say that. He knew his brothers all thought he was too idealistic, that he simply didn’t understand the cold realities of the world.

“Not cold. Practical,” Justin said.

“You know this won’t work unless all of us are in,” Gray said.

“I know,” Justin said. “And it won’t work for any of us unless we come up with a contract that ties Harry’s hands in the future. We’d have to make sure he can never blackmail us like this again.”

“Absolutely,” J.T. put in. “If he thinks he can manipulate us with threats, he’ll do it again in a heartbeat.”

“So if we do this, we are going to need an ironclad contract that controls the situation,” Alex said, thinking out loud.

“If all Harry had threatened us with was loss of income,” Justin said, “I’d tell him to go to hell and walk. But I’m not willing to lose the ranch. What about the rest of you?”

Alex finally broke the silence that followed his question. “If it was just money, I’d tell him to go to hell, too. But it’s not, is it?”

“It’s about the things and places he knows matter most to us.” J.T. sounded grim.

“Part of Harry’s demand was that the brides not know our identities until after we’re married. How are you going to find a marriageable woman in Seattle who doesn’t know you’re rich, Justin?” Gray asked.

“I’ve been out of state for most of the last eighteen months, plus I’ve never been as high-profile as the rest of you,” Justin said.

“Yeah, right,” J.T. scoffed. “There isn’t a single one of us who hasn’t had our picture in the paper or a magazine.”

“But not as often as Harry,” Gray said. “He’s the public face of HuntCom. I’ve got to give the old man credit, he deflected as much publicity from us as he could.”

“True,” Justin agreed. “So how about it, Gray? Are you in?”

Alex knew Gray could be as stubborn as Harry. “Face it, Gray. Harry holds all the cards.”

“He always has.” Gray sighed audibly. “This totally sucks, but if we can come up with a way to tie Harry’s hands in the future, then I guess I’m in.”

By the time they finished their call, Alex was already thinking of ways he could fulfill his part of their strange bargain and begin his own hunt for Cinderella.

Chapter One

Six weeks later…

Alex looked around his new apartment with satisfaction. This place, with its nondescript decor and discount-house furniture, was a far cry from his pad in the city, but he didn’t mind. He didn’t need fancy digs. Never had. The only reason he lived where and how he did was because it was expected of him in his position as the director of the Harrison Hunt Foundation.

Thinking about the foundation, he frowned. He’d put out every fire, assigned as many tasks as he could to others and taken care of everything else he could think of before telling his staff he was taking an extended leave of absence. And he knew his assistant, Martha Oliver, affectionately called Marti by all who knew her well, could be trusted to handle ninety-nine percent of anything else that might come up.

But it was that other one percent that worried Alex. Still, he was only a ninety-minute drive from downtown Seattle, and in an emergency, Marti could reach him on his cell and know he’d come as soon as possible. In fact, she’d been texting him religiously, keeping him up to date on everything. Alex made a mental note to give her a hefty bonus when this situation was finally resolved and he was back to work. Which, he hoped, would be soon.

He knew there was no reason to worry. Things would be fine while he was gone. He reminded himself that all he had to do was quickly find a suitable woman to marry, and he might not have to be away from the foundation for long at all.

Alex was not arrogant or vain. But he wasn’t unaware of his appeal. All his life he’d been told he was good-looking and wherever he went women made eye contact and flirted. So if he found someone who interested him and that he felt his father and his Aunt Cornelia would approve of, he suspected all he’d have to do was go through the motions women expected from a suitor.

After he and his brothers had decided to go along with Harry’s edict, Alex had given considerable thought to his strategy in the campaign to find the kind of wife he wanted. What he’d decided was he would never be able to do so while continuing to work at the foundation. He needed to go somewhere he wasn’t known and he needed to be working at an ordinary job with ordinary people.

Then he thoroughly researched Harry’s various holdings and narrowed them down to the one where he thought he might not stick out like a sore thumb. He told his father he wanted a position at their distribution center in Jansen, an hour and a half drive from Seattle—just south of Olympia. He already knew most folks in Jansen watched Portland television stations and read the Portland newspaper, so they’d be unlikely to recognize him from any of the publicity photos tied to the Hunt Foundation. And if anyone did recognize him, he’d simply say he was always being mistaken for one of the Hunt brothers.

Alex didn’t think he had to worry. He had always tried to keep a low profile. He hated society bashes and disliked the club scene. If not for the foundation and its work, he doubted anyone would ever recognize him as belonging to the Hunt family.

Today would be the true test, though, because in less than forty-five minutes, he would begin his new job at HuntCom’s main distribution center.

New job.

New apartment.

And new name.

He’d also decided that for the duration of his “hunt” he would be known as Alex Noble. It would be different if he were going to go to work somewhere that wasn’t associated with HuntCom, but at the distribution center there was no way he could be Alex Hunt without someone questioning the coincidence of the shared name.

So he’d decided on Noble, which was the surname of a previous stepfather. Alex’s mother, Lucinda Parker Hunt Noble Fitzpatrick, was on her third marriage and Alex had once cynically figured it wouldn’t be her last, although he’d finally conceded that maybe Terrence Fitzpatrick was the real deal. He and Alex’s mother had recently celebrated their twenty-fourth wedding anniversary.

There were things about Terrence Alex didn’t like, namely his penchant for thinking money could solve any problem, but he’d done one thing right. He’d given Alex a much-loved younger sister, Julie, although Terrence was doing his level best to spoil her with the enormous amounts of money and gifts he lavished upon her.

Thinking about Julie and her recent escapades, Alex frowned. He wished he could get through to her, but she laughed off his concern, telling him he was “stodgy” and “old-fashioned” and had forgotten what it was like to be young.

Her scorn, even though delivered with affection, had hurt. Alex didn’t think he was stodgy. He was just sensible and practical. So he didn’t worship at the altar of money and power. Did that mean there was something wrong with him? He guessed in his little sister’s crowd, it probably did.

He was still thinking about Julie when he pulled into the employee parking lot at the HuntCom Distribution Center. But when he emptied his pockets and passed through security, he deliberately put her out of his mind. Today he couldn’t afford to be distracted by Julie or anything else. He would need all his wits about him to pull off a successful masquerade.

It took an hour to fill out necessary paperwork and watch an orientation film in the human resources department, but by nine o’clock—he was on the first shift which began at eight in the morning—the HR manager’s assistant, who made a point of telling him her name was Kim, walked him down to the gigantic storage center, which was a beehive of activity.

Alex couldn’t help grinning when a young girl with purple spiked hair whizzed by them on roller blades. At his quizzical look, Kim said, “That’s Ruby. She’s also a picker.”

Alex frowned. “Picker?”

“Sorry. Merchandise rep. Same job you’re going to do. You know, pick the merchandise from the shelves so it can be shipped to the company or person who placed the order.”

“Ah.” It amused Alex to think what his colleagues at the foundation would say if they could see him now. Most, he knew, were in awe of him. After all, he was one of the mighty Hunts. They respected him, because he worked as hard or harder than they did, and they knew he cared about the work they were doing, but they still couldn’t manage to treat him the way they treated the others on staff. To them, he was out of their league.

“I’m sure you’ll be great at the job,” Kim said, giving him an admiring glance.

Alex wasn’t interested; he’d seen her wedding band. So all he said was, “Hope so.”

She led Alex toward a cluster of several people who seemed to be arguing about something. When they spied him, the conversation abruptly stopped and a young woman—a very attractive young woman, Alex noticed—with wildly curly red hair tied back with a navy-blue ribbon and dressed in snug jeans and a white blouse open at the throat, broke away from the group and strode toward them. Very blue eyes filled with intelligence gave him a quick assessment before turning their intensity on Kim.

“Um, P.J.,” she said, “this is Alex Noble, the new member of your crew. Alex, this is P.J. Kincaid, the floor supervisor.”

Alex wondered if P.J. had adopted initials in lieu of her first name for the same reason J.T. had adopted his, because she hated her given name. J.T. had said Jared was a sissy name and he would kill anyone who insisted upon using it.

“Hello,” P.J. said, thrusting out her right hand. “Welcome to HuntCom.”

Alex took her hand and gave it a firm shake. Hers was just as firm. “Hello,” he said.

“Good luck,” Kim said. She smiled at him, then turned and walked off.

When Alex’s attention returned to P.J., her eyes met his squarely. Something about their steady scrutiny disturbed Alex. Did she suspect something? He forced himself not to drop his gaze.

“I’m told you have experience,” she said.

Yes, that was definitely a hint of doubt in her voice. Deciding brevity was his best bet, Alex nodded. “Yes, I do.”

“And you worked…where…before?”

Sticking to what it said on his fake résumé, Alex answered, “At a warehouse in Sacramento.”

She looked at him thoughtfully. “What kind of products?”

“Household appliances.”

Her eyes remained speculative. “Why’d you leave?”

He made his voice light. “Couldn’t very well commute from here.”

She nodded, but instinct told him she wasn’t completely buying his story. “You’ve completed all your paperwork?”

“Yes.”

“Had your physical and drug testing?”

“Yes.” That wasn’t true, but on paper, it said Alex had done so and passed.

“So…you ready to go to work?”

“Yes, I am.”

Turning, she gestured to one of the men in the group still gathered nearby. “Rick.”