Stranded For One Scandalous Week (Mills & Boon Modern) (Rebels, Brothers, Billionaires Book 1)

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Stranded For One Scandalous Week (Mills & Boon Modern) (Rebels, Brothers, Billionaires Book 1) Page 6

by Natalie Anderson


  ‘I have not...’ But she blushed at the complete lie.

  ‘No?’ He grinned triumphantly. ‘It’s only chemistry. Nothing more meaningful than a few compounds that spark when struck together. I know you don’t actually like me.’

  ‘Like you?’ She rolled her eyes. ‘You just want me to disagree and say you’re actually not that arrogant, not that inappropriate, not that appalling. I’m not falling for it.’

  He merely laughed. ‘That still doesn’t mean you don’t want me.’

  The cockiness of the man was astounding. ‘You’re swaggering round, practically naked, like you’re some sort of sex gift to the nearest woman—’

  ‘I think you’re awfully judgmental about people’s clothing.’ He flipped to pious with a blink of his unfairly long eyelashes. ‘It’s personal expression, Merle.’

  ‘Oh, please, you were the one trashing my “forensics fashion”.’

  ‘I know, and I was wrong.’ He nodded. ‘And I’ve decided, upon reflection, that it’s appealing. There’s an allure of discovery in what lies beneath.’ His lips quirked. ‘Of course, I already know the visual delights to be seen under yours...’

  She burned with embarrassment. She should have turned down his invitation to explore the bunker. Avoidance wasn’t just the best solution for dealing with this man, it was the only solution. Except, much to her annoyance, Ash Castle was easy to like. He was sharp and funny and she knew he took pleasure in deliberately provoking her. He didn’t mean most of this talk—there was that spark in his eye, a devilish gleam knowing he was taking it too far. Frankly, she was enjoying trying to better him. It was a game she’d never played. A game she wanted to win.

  And now? Now there was a part of her that wanted nothing more than to wipe that smug challenge off his face and topple his assurance the way he’d obliterated hers.

  The way he watched her was unashamedly interested, underlined with curiosity. She was different, that was all. Not like the other women who slid into his bed with ease. Surely she couldn’t be the only woman ever to have said no to him?

  He outstretched his arms and took hold of the counter’s edge. ‘I promise I won’t let go, so you can be assured there’ll be no wandering hands. Then you can get it out of your system.’

  She was sure he was joking. Yet he was still and serious and she had to dig her heels in to stop the temptation slithering through her. Somehow time blipped, somehow she stepped nearer. A hard blaze lit his eyes and she couldn’t tear her gaze from him.

  ‘A kiss for the key code? Is that the deal?’ she asked.

  ‘If that’s the deal you want to make.’

  ‘And dinner?’

  ‘Is happening regardless and it will be a much more leisurely, sumptuous affair than instant noodles followed by a bite of pudding.’ His eyes gleamed as he waited, alert, for her response.

  His confidence was extreme. He was certain in his arrogant assumption that she wouldn’t dream of turning him down. Truth was, she didn’t want to refuse him. In any of these things. But she would.

  ‘Just a little closer, Merle,’ he whispered with full arrogance on display. ‘What’s the worst that could happen?’

  There were so many worsts that she could think of. He could laugh. Humiliate her. Tell her he hadn’t meant it. Hadn’t she had that experience before—to be led along a path by a handsome man, only to have him humiliate her publicly? Proving her grandmother’s ridiculously dire warnings that men were to be avoided.

  Only, there was an intensity in Ash’s expression that she couldn’t turn away from, and he was so very still that she couldn’t resist stepping that breath closer.

  She would whisper ‘never’ to him. She would refuse to give him any kind of satisfaction. ‘I ought to...’

  ‘To what?’ He breathed heavily.

  She couldn’t remember what she’d been going to do any more. Her brain had shut down.

  ‘Run,’ he finished for her in a raw, low growl of bitter honesty. ‘That’s what you should do, Merle. You should turn around and run, right now.’

  Maybe she should. But a flare of need had unfurled. Because she knew he’d meant it, but she also knew it was the last thing he wanted. It was the last thing she wanted too.

  He wasn’t smiling any more. All that laughing arrogance, all the careless flirting, had vanished and all that remained was that almost angry look in his eyes as he fiercely stared, as if trying to compel her with his thoughts. Even with his arms stretched wide, his biceps were flexed as he gripped the bench tightly. But that stance made him vulnerable. She could get close to his body.

  ‘Why did you dare me, then?’ Her own anger bloomed. ‘To make me run? To prove my cowardice? To put this all on me so you don’t have to answer for it?’

  Was he trying to prove that her inexperience was something to be embarrassed about? And that it was her own fault? That there was something wrong with her?

  ‘Merle.’ His mutter was almost an apology.

  It changed everything again. The intensity between them shifted to something more than sensual. Something devastatingly intimate. And emotional. Anger—and another emotion too powerful to ignore—overwhelmed her into action. She rose on tiptoe and held his gaze. Feeling fire scurrying along her veins, she was about to tell him exactly what she thought of him. Except she was frozen. Less than an inch away from him, she suddenly couldn’t move.

  Yet his heat emanated, burning her, inexorably pulling her closer. And then he tucked in his chin, lowering his head just enough for their lips to brush. It was little more than a swift press but a shock of pleasure struck her insides. She felt taut as a bowstring, ready to fire. But she didn’t. She pulled away, immediately hoping he’d take it as a mockery of the real thing—that she’d offered only a pretence, given his request was so outrageous.

  ‘No,’ he muttered hoarsely. ‘Come back.’

  Not a line. Not an arrogant command. A raw plea that escaped gritted teeth.

  She hadn’t exactly gone anywhere. Only a breath away, she could see the warmth of his eyes, more mesmerising than ever. Whoever wanted to step into a crucible? To willingly fling themselves into flames? But these were searing licks of pleasure. These were irresistible.

  ‘My turn.’ He bent his head closer.

  Still, she didn’t step away. Even when she’d told herself that was exactly what she was going to do—veer close, only to swerve at the last minute. Like some game of chicken. Only she’d discovered that a collision was the far more preferable option.

  ‘Just stay there,’ he growled. ‘Just for a minute.’

  They were close enough for their mouths to brush as he spoke. For her to feel his warmth, his breath on her skin. She could feel him watching her, feel the light nuzzle of his nose against hers. Gentle, careful. Searingly sensual. It only took the tiniest lift of her chin to catch his lips again and hers clung to his without conscious intent. But then—without releasing that counter—he somehow moved, somehow took control.

  His mouth roved over hers, gentle, then with a subtly increasing strength. She closed her eyes, lost in the kiss instantly. She leaned closer and inadvertently grazed her fists against his bare skin. The sizzle was intoxicating and she unfurled her fingers, shivering at his scorching heat. And then she simply melted. Her belly pressed against his, her palms spread on his solid chest and her head fell back as she let him kiss her to life. It was pure electric vitality now crackling through her veins. She heard the low groan from the back of his throat and an answering echo, a moan from deep within, escaped her.

  Both sounds impinged on her mind, dragging her back to reality. Stunned at the intensity and speed with which she’d lost herself, she tore away, snapping the contact.

  This time he didn’t try to stop her. He just watched, his beautiful eyes lit by his potent, wild spirit. A cloud of sensuality wafted from him, tempting her to get close
again. Not a cloud—chains. If she wasn’t careful she might be locked in his thrall for good.

  There wasn’t satisfaction on his face. Nor the smug arrogance she’d expected because he’d got what he wanted. Got it so easily. If anything, he seemed as breathless, as speechless as she. But that was impossible.

  Breathing hard, she broke free of those invisible bonds and stepped back. She didn’t want him to know how deeply that had affected her. She’d spent so many years hiding by staying silent. For once, she was going to have to speak up to cover up. She was going to have to pretend.

  ‘I’ve changed my mind.’ She expelled a shaky breath. ‘I don’t need your key code. I’ve come to consider the bunker a safe haven. I’ll happily stay down here.’

  A smile spread across his face and that arrogance gleamed. ‘You were that moved, huh?’ He nodded. ‘So now you’re too scared to have dinner with me.’ He lifted his hands from the bench and shook them. ‘Has that one kiss made you too frightened of what else you might find yourself wanting to do?’

  That was so accurate she wanted to hit him.

  He stepped forward. ‘Do you really think you’d be safer now, stuck in here with me? In this teeny, tiny space?’

  ‘It’s not that tiny,’ she said, desperately defending her position, and decided to appeal to his humanity. ‘And I really think you’re not the animal you make yourself out to be. You’re not that desperate for anything.’

  ‘No?’ He half laughed. ‘I’m glad you’re so certain. Because I’m not. And now I can’t escape the sight or scent of you? Now I’ve had a taste?’

  He stalked towards her, but at the final moment, when she was bracing for impact, he swerved and stepped past her—pulling off the move she’d planned but failed to perform.

  And the sudden sense of loss? Of disappointment? In that second she hated her own body—the chemicals and hormones that had been so thoroughly turned on. She watched him viciously prod a discreet panel in the study area of the living space. Only a second later she heard a hissing sound and the clang of some mechanism.

  ‘The door’s open, Merle.’ Ash glanced at her. ‘I suggest you return to the real world.’

  CHAPTER FIVE

  THE PROBLEM WAS that the ‘real world’ was no different. Above ground, breathing fresh air, forcing physical distance, Ash still wanted her more than he’d wanted any woman ever. He rolled his shoulders, unable to release the tension that had been building since the second he’d first seen her. Tension that was now unbearable after he’d touched her. What had begun as the most chaste kiss of his life had ended as the most unforgettable. How was it possible that he’d been left aching with such desperation? It wasn’t like anything he’d experienced before. It was no lie that he’d needed to get them out of there as fast as possible.

  When she’d professed her desire to stay locked down there? He’d had to move before he took her up on it.

  Ordinarily, most kisses didn’t end like that. Not so suddenly. Not with his lover walking away. Ordinarily, most kisses ended with all clothes off and multiple orgasms on. Not with Merle Jordan though. Of course it couldn’t be ordinary with her.

  She was so tantalising. He’d never been as careful, absurdly terrified that he’d scare her off somehow. But then he’d lost track of any planned seduction. His mind had hazed. All that had remained was sensation in that sweet, scorching moment when he’d had his mouth on hers. Then she’d put her hands on him.

  There’d always been a clinical element to Ash’s conquests. A decision to accept the offer of some mindless, emotionless physical relief and pleasure. This was different. This was a visceral ache in his core. Desire he couldn’t deny. Every other time it had been easy enough to walk away. Now he couldn’t. It wasn’t because he was trapped here. For all his hedonism, all his copious enjoyment of easy pleasure, he’d never been so fixated. Now he feared he was on the edge. That he’d do almost anything to have Merle Jordan in his bed was a frankly alarming feeling.

  And there’d been inexperience in her kiss. Ash didn’t fool around with women who didn’t know the score. Not since he’d broken a young woman’s heart a decade ago. He didn’t like to think of Rose but her visage flickered in his mind. Of course it did—his treatment of Rose had been the reason for his mother’s anger here, that afternoon when his whole world had been turned upside down.

  He slammed the door on those recollections. Things were very different now. While Merle’s initial shyness had reminded him of Rose, she’d shown herself to be very different just beneath the surface. Merle wasn’t some sweet-sixteen, never-been-kissed, awkward girl. She was an adult—fully capable of handling this attraction and of standing up to him more devastatingly than most people he’d met. He knew she wanted nothing more than to put him properly in his place. And when she let her tongue off the leash? When she was provoked enough not to hold back?

  He wanted that too. Because he wanted her. But, given the inexperience that he intuitively sensed, he needed her to come to him. He needed her to be more than sure. He needed her to be in charge. Instead, she’d vanished back into that study.

  He paced through to the kitchen, grumpily fixing on the perfect displacement activity. He was no great cook but he also wasn’t afraid to source expert help when necessary. Seeing those little puddings of hers last night had made his mouth water, so he’d been deliberate in the groceries he’d ordered for delivery from one of the local delis this morning. He’d tempt every one of her tastebuds until she could do nothing but ask for more.

  Ninety minutes later, he appeared at the door to the study where she was still hiding.

  ‘Hey, darling.’ He leaned against the doorjamb. ‘Dinner’s ready.’

  Merle had spent the afternoon locked back in the study, buried in the boring business papers from his father’s box, keeping calm and carrying on as if nothing drastically life-changing had happened. But Ash hadn’t gone back to his usual routine. He hadn’t appeared at the pool to swim for endless hours. She wished he had. The truth was, she’d realised, she wanted to swim with him.

  But now he led her to a beautifully set small table overlooking the pool. It offered spaciousness, room to escape, a stunning view across the bay and an even better view across the table—to him.

  Merle gazed down at the vibrantly coloured curry instead. ‘This looks amazing. Thank you.’

  She perched, keenly aware of the awkward silence that immediately descended, but she was unable to think of anything to break it. Don’t be pathetic. She chewed, furious at overthinking everything. Why couldn’t she relax? Why couldn’t she shut down that searing, shockingly sexual response?

  Merle didn’t have sexual responses to anyone. Why now, with such a known playboy who took nothing and no one seriously? Perhaps that was the problem. Had his reputation sparked a primal response within her subconscious? Had she inherited some genetic predisposition to bounders? She’d always rejected the way her grandmother had labelled her mother—as a foolish woman who’d ‘fallen’ and brought shame on the family by getting pregnant, unmarried and young—yet that lingering burn curled through her as she heard the strident echo of her grandmother’s displeasure.

  Stay away from men. You don’t want to make the same mistake as your mother.

  Everyone made mistakes. Having sex wasn’t necessarily one of them. Merle knew her mother was brave and loyal and loving. And frankly, it would be nice to have a sexual response to someone some time. Temptation whispered, telling her that an experience with Ash Castle might be perfect, might teach her much, without costing her heart. She desperately needed to stop thinking about any of this. She’d initiate a safe conversation instead. The one topic she had in common with him was her work.

  ‘Is there anything in particular you would like me to do with the diaries?’ she asked, pleased to have thought of something innocuous to discuss.

  ‘Diaries?’ He glanced up.
/>   ‘Your father’s diaries. I found a few in one of the boxes today.’

  His mouth compressed and emotion flared in his eyes. ‘Direct any questions on his things to Leo. He’s the one paying you.’

  ‘But—’

  ‘I don’t want to know about it,’ he clipped. ‘As far as I’m concerned you can burn it all.’

  Merle focused on her plate, taking a moment to digest his snap.

  He sighed heavily. ‘Don’t look at me like that.’

  ‘I’m not looking at you,’ she answered equably.

  ‘Exactly.’ He half-laughed, half-groaned and then sighed. ‘Do you really enjoy cataloguing the detritus of people’s meaningless lives?’

  Oh, wow, there was some bitterness to unravel there.

  ‘Yes, I do,’ she said calmly. ‘Archives of all sorts, records of people’s thoughts and experiences, are valuable.’

  ‘In what possible way?’ he asked as if any valid reason was impossible.

  ‘It’s the connection to the past, isn’t it? Things tether us, help us learn things about our heritage.’ She hesitated. ‘Sometimes I deal with the records or things other people can’t bear to face yet,’ she said softly. ‘I put them in an order so they’re there when people are ready.’

  ‘And if they’re not?’

  ‘I put a date on each box for when the contents will be reassessed. If it’s deemed no longer valuable it goes to a secure facility to be destroyed.’

  His lips twisted. ‘That sounds perfect. Make the date tomorrow.’

  She shook her head. ‘Not in the protocol, sorry.’

  ‘There’s a protocol?’

  ‘Sure,’ she said softly, but firmly. ‘Because these things matter.’

  ‘They really don’t.’

  She held his gaze.

  He cocked his head and blinked. ‘You think I’m protesting too much.’

 

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