Trusting the Billionaire: Billionaire Beach Romance, #4

By Cami Checketts

When Athena Haddad's father and brother are killed, she busies herself working at her wellness studio and helping her mom fight MS. Little does she realize how flat her life has become--until she meets Nixon Browning. The billionaire is expanding his chain of health stores along the west coast, but he doesn't appreciate her beautiful city and she thinks his products are over-priced and worthless. Athena sets out to teach Nixon about the city and its history while ignoring his inherent kindness, sharp intellect, and the warmth that spreads through her body when he touches her.
Nixon is determined to help her mom battle MS no matter what Athena thinks of his health food stores. In an unexpected turn of events, their tour of Alcatraz becomes a fight for their lives, forcing them to let go of their pride and work together. If they can survive The Rock, they may be able to bring life and color to the sparks of romance between them.
Billionaire Beach Romances:

Caribbean Rescue

Cozumel Escape

Cancun Getaway

Trusting the Billionaire

How to Kiss a Billionaire

Onboard for Love

Shadows in the Curtain

• Language: English
• Publisher: Cami Checketts
• Release date: Aug 3, 2023
• ISBN: 9798223464457

Book preview

CHAPTER ONE

Nixon Browning stepped over a pile of garbage and landed squarely in a puddle. On a dry day in downtown San Francisco, standing water was as likely to be urine as anything else. The smell indicated he was correct, but the entire city stank to him, so he couldn’t be a hundred percent certain.

He shook off his shoe, brow wrinkled with disgust. No city in the South would be this filthy. Did these people not have any pride or control of their bodily functions? Walking past Union Square, he hurried across the intersection onto Third Street, almost to the St. Regis, his home for the next few months. The hotel was one of the nicest in the city, and the presidential suite had great views and a decent amount of space, but it wasn’t much fun to be in a city where the only people you knew were your employees. No matter how hard he tried to be the friendly boss, there was always a barrier. He really missed his funny, outgoing, and truly out-of-control brother Clay. His twin brother, Jace, had married recently and had a little boy, so Nixon only got to see him occasionally.

Spare some change, man? a tall, spindly young man asked him. The kid was a few inches taller than Nixon’s six-three and much too skinny, but he didn’t look too bad off. At least, his clothes were clean, and he had a friendly smile. His dark hair looked like more of a mop than a hairstyle. Nixon figured anybody who was humble enough to beg for money should be helped no matter what his assessment of them or concerns about how they got to their spot in life. He couldn’t imagine not knowing where his next meal came from. He took pride in the security of hard work and family who would always be there for him.

Sure. Nixon nodded and stopped walking. He pulled a hundred out of his wallet and handed it over.

The kid’s eyes widened, and he kind of bowed to him. Thanks, um, thank you very much, sir.

No problem.

The kid clapped him on the shoulder then took off running, clinging to his money. His face was lit up like he’d won the lottery. Nixon smiled. His dad’s motto had always been Never going to go astray if you’re helping somebody who’s down on their luck.

You throw around money like that, and you’re going to get mobbed, a feminine voice said from behind him.

Nixon turned to acknowledge the person who’d spoken, and his breath caught in his throat. The speaker was exquisitely beautiful with dark, wavy hair falling down over her brown shoulders and strong yet feminine features that made him think her heritage was middle-Eastern, though her accent had been spot-on for western America. She wore a simple white tank top and a long flowing skirt. Her arms were defined but lean. He’d guess she was a fitness instructor. The way she dressed and lack of makeup made him think maybe yoga or Pilates.

You see how scrawny that kid was? Guy was hungry. Nixon defended his charity.

Hungry for his next hit. She grinned at him.

Forgive me, ma’am, for trying to be charitable. The implication that his hard-earned money was going to be spent on drugs bugged him, but a smile that infectious made it hard to be upset with her. Her dark eyes sparkled, and the subtle laugh lines decorating her cheeks made her more attractive.

Oh, I don’t mind. Throw your money around. She winked at him. I thought there was an accent. Where in the South are you from?

Nixon couldn’t tell if she was flirting with or making fun of him. Alabama.

Hmm, they don’t have crime in Alabama?

What are you talking about? He glanced around at the tourists and locals dodging past them on the sidewalk. The day was overcast, but luckily not raining yet, and nobody appeared to be a threat.

Hey, I’m just trying to help you. I mean you don’t look too dumb. She smiled, and it was impossible to take offense. Her lips were full—dark pink and absolutely beautiful. When she smiled, it was like seeing rays of sunshine breaking through clouds.

But if you go throwing around hundred dollar bills, before you know it, somebody will take that fat wallet off your hands. She gave him a saucy smile. Their eyes connected, and something real and honest passed between them. It made his breath catch and must’ve done something to her too because a quick gasp escaped those pink links before she whirled and glided away. Definitely yoga then, to move that fluidly.

Hey, wait. Nixon had no clue why he was chasing after her. She’d insulted his intelligence, and she was probably leading him somewhere to get mugged. That would be a smart setup, an irresistibly beautiful woman lures unsuspecting tourist to his death.

He caught up to her in a few strides. She glanced over at him, tilting her head to the side. Her dark hair spilled over her firm shoulder. He was so distracted he stepped in another puddle of urine.

You need more advice, tourist? she asked.

I get the impression you have a lot of advice to give. He matched her step, going the wrong direction, but who cared? He didn’t have much to get back to except for his luxurious room, room service, his laptop, and an hour in the hotel gym later tonight lifting weights to counteract all the computer time he’d had today. His lame run this morning through the city streets and traffic lights definitely hadn’t cut it.

Oh, I have it. The laugh lines deepened. But I doubt you’ll listen.

How do you know that? You don’t even know me.

I know your type. She arched an eyebrow. Rich, young, ultra-successful, wearing his tailored business casual suit that costs more than most people earn in a month. Come to the yuppie city to expand his business and get richer.

So there’s something wrong with my type? She’d pretty much nailed it, so there wasn’t any way to refute her.

She stopped and turned to face him. Pedestrians diverted around them. Placing her hand on his forearm, she gave him a saucy wink. Oh, don’t get down on yourself like that.

Get down on myself? He arched an eyebrow.

Thinking there’s something wrong with your type and all.

I didn’t say there was anything wrong with my type, you implied there was. He liked that she could tease him. It reminded him of the way his new sister-in-law, Moriah, always teased Jace.

Hmm, if you’re so sensitive about it, then you must think there is.

Is what?

Something wrong with your type. She squeezed his arm then strode off again.

Nixon could not quite believe himself as he took up pursuit. She was beautiful, no doubt, and kind of funny, and he really liked the feel of her hand on him, but she kept insulting him, and he definitely wasn’t used to that.

Why are you following me? she asked when he pressed in against her side.

You’re the one that talked to me first. He was quick to remind her.

Yeah, so I could save you from yourself. Now, I’d appreciate you running along back to your platinum tower to make your millions. She wiggled her first and middle fingers like they were running.

Nixon chuckled at that. She was a great kind of sarcastic.

She turned his way with that beautiful smile, and he faltered for a step.

Why are you so anxious to get rid of me? he asked.

You obviously did not heed my warning. Big city, lots of crime. I don’t attach myself to unknown men.

Nixon couldn’t resist leaning closer and placing his hand on the small of her back. Her tank top fit her curves nicely, and her skin felt smooth and firm underneath his palm. She smelled like the most intriguing mixture of lavender and eucalyptus. He sold both types of oils in his health and wellness stores.

Maybe I could take you to dinner. He suggested casually. Then I wouldn’t be ‘unknown’ to you anymore.

No can do, Cracker Jack. She generously offered the smile he was becoming much too attached to while refuting him and didn’t move away from his hand, so the rejection didn’t sting quite as much. They were walking down Geary Street, and the crowd thinned the farther away from Union Square they got. His new store was right at the end of this block. Was it coincidence she was walking this way?

"What can you do?" he asked.

Leave you here while I go back to work. She stopped in front of a small shop and flipped her hair over her shoulder, and though Nixon didn’t like her ditching him, he did appreciate that at least he knew where she worked.

He glanced up at the sign, The Healing Feeling.

A health and wellness studio. He nodded. That fits.

Oh, good, so we both fit the stereotype. You in your tailored business casual and me in my peasant skirt. She brought her hands to her chest and bowed mockingly. He half expected her to say Namaste. I’m so glad you can put me in a box. She grabbed the door handle.

Nixon lifted his hand and pushed on the door, keeping it closed. Wait a minute. I wasn’t trying to put you in some box. Mind/body fitness is great. I just noticed that you’re really fit and you smell like lavender and eucalyptus, usually scents associated with massage or alternative healing.

She released the door handle and stared up at him. He felt like he was being drawn into a warm pool just looking into her deep brown eyes.

Wouldn’t expect you to be able to identify essential oils, she said. Your kind usually shop for their health products in a monstrosity like the Natural Nutrition Needs they’re building a couple of doors down.

Nixon smiled. She knew his store, but then his smile froze. Wait, she’d called it a monstrosity and said your kind. What’s wrong with Natural Nutrition Needs?

Oh, please. You might as well buy your health products at Wally World.

Nixon stepped back and released the door, completely insulted. He and his father had created Natural Nutrition Needs from the ground up, only dealing with the highest quality in health food and alternative medicine products. They had over a dozen highly respected doctors and alternative health experts on their board, and they relied heavily on their expertise. The food and products they created and stocked had helped his brother Clay overcome cancer and his mom stay healthy after her diagnosis with adult-onset diabetes. His mom loved to cook and eat Southern-style food, and it was always a battle to keep her healthy. The vitamins, minerals, essential oils, and organic foods he carried in his stores had helped immensely. How dare this lady disparage his stores?

Have you ever been in a Natural Nutrition Needs store? His throat was tight, and he bit out the words.

Nope. Haven’t had the pleasure. She smirked. From what I understand, this is their first store on the West Coast. Then they’ll be infiltrating everywhere online and along the rest of the coast, like parasites claiming to have healthy products. All the dumb masses will buy things they don’t need and make the owners billionaires once over again. She shook her head. No thank you.

Nixon backed away. He’d worked his tail end off to be a billionaire. He never allowed products in his stores that weren’t backed by extensive research, and marketing to the masses, as she called them, to get them to use his products instead of a lower-quality drug store version had been torturous work. It had taken him years to accomplish it.

You okay? she asked.

Nixon turned and strode away without saying goodbye. That woman had no clue how she’d insulted him and all the good he’d done with his health food stores and with the money from them. He’d taken the