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    Beach Bum Billionaire: A BBW Billionaire Romance, #1
    Beach Bum Billionaire: A BBW Billionaire Romance, #1
    Beach Bum Billionaire: A BBW Billionaire Romance, #1
    Ebook103 pages1 hour

    Beach Bum Billionaire: A BBW Billionaire Romance, #1

    By Jill Lang

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    About this ebook

    Part one of Beach Bum Billionaire, a three-part series from author Jill Lang.

    Curvy girl, Patty Danville, isn’t too keen on jumping into another relationship, having escaped to St. Martin to nurse a broken heart. On a lazy morning walk she encounters a man sleeping on the beach, believing him to be homeless.

    Alexander Kent fled New York, thinking his older brother, Benjamin, had an affair with his model wife, Megan Fillmore Kent. With his marriage already on the rocks, crashing hard months earlier, this new blow has left him reeling.

    The blonde on the beach with the amazing tits and pretty smile is exactly what Alex needs to smooth the rough edges of deception and disappointment. For Patty, a fling with a compelling stranger is a fun distraction, but she wouldn’t seriously fall for a bum, would she? A girl has to have some standards.

    Continue the romantic adventure in Beach Bum Billionaire 2.

    LanguageEnglish
    PublisherJill Lang
    Release dateOct 1, 2017
    ISBN9781386290452
    Beach Bum Billionaire: A BBW Billionaire Romance, #1

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      Book preview

      Beach Bum Billionaire - Jill Lang

      1

      The wet, cold feel of a tongue streaking a path across my cheek woke me. I didn’t need to open my eyes to know Drover had left his mark—literally. I groaned, turning over on the small sofa in my sister’s apartment. Staring at the ceiling, I noted the faint stains of a damaged roof, but, in the tropics, it was impossible to keep things dry. How long had I been in St. Martin? Four, five, maybe six weeks? I had lost track of time, and it really didn’t matter, because I had nothing left to go back to.

      That annoying dog needs to go out. Allison, who breezed into the room, wore a tank top tucked into a flowery sarong. Are you walking him? She looked at me imploringly. Please.

      If there’s coffee, yeah. My voice sounded croaky.

      I’m sorry if we kept you up last night, Patty.

      My sister’s family had been on the patio playing Jenga with their children, Tom and Jules, who slept soundly in the next room. No. You’re fine. I sat up, running fingers through tangled, blonde hair. I know you’re probably dying to get rid of me. I didn’t think I’d be here so long.

      She shrugged. It’s a little crowded, but we’ll manage. Hey, I owe you one anyway. I lived with you after college, remember?

      I had escaped to the Caribbean following the break-up of my engagement, thinking warm sands and sun would smooth the rough edges of heartbreak, but … it hadn’t gone to plan, which was typical. Depression and grief lingered, despite massive quantities of rum.

      I’ll just brush my teeth and take him out.

      I gotta open the store in an hour. The cruise ships are in port today. It’s going to be madness.

      Oh, goody, I mumbled.

      Leaving the sofa behind, while snatching up the pillow and blanket, I stuffed these items into a hallway closet. In the bathroom, I gazed at my tanned reflection, noting how the whites of my eyes stood out. I hardly wore makeup, because the humidity melted it all away, but I had to admit, the tan suited me. Being on the French side of the island, sunbathing topless was de rigueur, and I indulged in it often, but only on the days when the tourists were scarce. Now, if only I could drop the twenty pounds I had gained, eating and crying after Trevor dumped me …

      I retrieved a pair of white shorts and a pale blue top from one of two plastic tubs stowed in the dining room. There was little space in the small apartment. After dressing and sliding my feet into pink flip-flops, I found Drover hard on my heels, following me from room to room. He knew he would get his morning walk, but I needed plastic waste bags first, finding them in a kitchen drawer. The kids stirred then, Tom complaining in the other room about not wanting to go to school. My sister would have her hands full getting them off on time, so I hooked Drover to his leash and we departed with due haste.

      Allison lived directly above the store, this building housing several businesses as well as apartments. My sister, having married a Frenchman, Gerard, ten years ago, had moved to the island with him. Gerard worked as a golf instructor at the Mullet Bay Resort and Champion Golf Course, and he had already left this morning. It being nearly impossible to obtain a work permit, being neither Dutch or French, I helped my sister in her store, which was a bikini shop called In Season. I subsisted on some savings, but I would eventually have to return to the states, an event I dreaded, but I had little choice in the matter.

      Drover scampered down the steps, with the parking area and a dumpster below. This did little to mar the loveliness of the tropical surrounds, the area bordered by swaying palm trees and pink Oleanders. A salty tang hung in the air, having blown in from the ocean, which stood less than twenty feet away. Someone had discarded a bottle of Toppers Rhum, which I retrieved and flung into the dumpster. I would remove the leash as soon as we hit the sand, letting the sprite, spaniel mix scamper to his delight.

      From the moment I set eyes on the island, I had been mesmerized, secretly wishing never to leave. From the bustling port in Philipsburg to the Great Salt Pond and beyond, this Garden of Eden had become my sanctuary, helping me to overcome the loss of a relationship I had expected to end in marriage. I didn’t want to think of Trevor so early in the morning, but being alone seemed to bring back the feeling of grief. We were a week out from our wedding. The inscriptions within the rings declared the date of matrimony, but it wasn’t meant to be. The Vera Wang dress had been sent back, and I was still waiting for the refund.

      There you go, Drover. Go give ‘em hell, boy.

      I released the dog, as people walked towards me, locals, who enjoyed a morning stroll before the tourists arrived. There were houses and resorts further down, some built on a hill with panoramic views. Predominantly French people lived here or vacationers renting property for the week. I recognized a familiar face, waving at Anaïs Babel.

      "Bonjour," she said, smiling. A sheer, white dress covered her thin, tanned frame.

      "Bonjour."

      My feet sank into the soft, pale sand, the sound of waves ever-present and calming. The high tide brought in aggressive surf, but this would settle down in a few hours, when I typically waded in for an afternoon swim. The breeze left my hair a tangled mess, the strands often flying in my face. Drover ambled on ahead, stopping to sniff and pee, while I watched the waves, crashing and retreating, wetting the sand repeatedly.

      There was someone up ahead, laying on his back wearing tan trousers and a dark blue, long-sleeved shirt. My first thought was he must be a tourist or one of the local drunks, of which there were many. Drover reached him first, stopping to sniff, then, to my horror, he lifted his leg and peed on the man’s leg.

      Drover! I took off in a sprint, praying the man might have slept through it. You bad dog! No! Nearly breathless by the time I arrived at the scene of the crime, I stared at the man, whom I had never met before. The evidence of Drover’s mischief darkened his pant leg.

      Well, that’s a first. He sat up, eyeing the stain.

      He was English. I’m so sorry. I … how on earth would I defend what had just happened? Um … he has no manners. It’s … um … not my dog. I smiled contritely, eyeing the stranger, who sported messy, dark hair and several days’ worth of facial hair. He squinted in the sunlight, meeting my gaze. His eyes were crystal blue and shockingly intense, surrounded by a mass of eyelashes and dark, unruly eyebrows. Something warm and pleasurable pooled deep in my belly, the reaction unexpected and startling.

      "That’ll teach me to

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