Holiday with the Millionaire(7)

By: Scarlet Wilson

‘You’re pushing me into the servants’ quarters?’ His voice was a lazy drawl.

‘What? I am not.’

‘Yes, you are. Don’t you remember that in all these Georgian houses the servants stayed in the attics?’

‘Did they?’ She wrinkled her nose. ‘I wasn’t much of a history buff, more a geography girl myself.’ She waved her hand. ‘Anyway the rooms upstairs are lovely. The biggest one has an en-suite bathroom, I’m sure you’ll be comfortable there.’

He was still watching her, almost as if he was trying to size her up. But what alarmed her most was the fact there was a twinkle in his eye. He swallowed the painkillers and took a gulp of the water. ‘Maybe I’ll just crash on the sofa—next to your midnight feast. Were you actually going to eat all that?’

Colour heated her cheeks. She was about to be offended, but from the twinkle in his eye it was almost as if he was trying to bait her. She’d recovered enough from the shock of earlier to play him at his own game.

‘I was going to eat all that. And you owe me. Don’t think I didn’t notice that you swiped one of my favourite chocolate bars.’ She wagged her finger at him. ‘Touch anything else and I’ll give you more than a sore head.’

He surprised her. He threw back his head and laughed, just as his stomach growled loudly. He shrugged his shoulders. ‘What can I say? I’m starving.’ He stood up and started prowling around the kitchen, staring at the uniform white cupboards as if he didn’t know which to open first. ‘Is there anything to eat around here?’

Lara watched him for a few seconds. That was definitely a pair of well-fitting jeans. They hugged every inch of his thighs and backside, even though she could see the waist was a little loose. His white T-shirt was rumpled and there was tiny hint of curling dark hairs and flat abs. It was all she could do to tear her eyes away.

She sighed. ‘As I was a late arrival too and Addison had run down most of the fresh food, there’s only what I bought tonight.’ She opened the fridge. ‘I have bread, bacon and baked beans.’

He was smiling again and counted off on his fingers, ‘And wine, and chocolate, and crisps, and some kind of cake I didn’t even recognise.’

She smiled and shook her head. ‘Don’t even think about it—all of those are out of bounds.’

He leaned against one of the cupboards. ‘Well, I’ve thought about it. I know how you can make it up to me.’

‘Make what up to you?’

‘The fact you assaulted me with one of Caleb’s trophies.’ He put his hand on his chin. ‘I’m thinking a bacon-and-baked-bean sandwich might just cut it.’

‘You don’t put bacon and baked beans in a sandwich.’ She shook her head in disgust. ‘Especially not at one in the morning.’

The glint remained in his eyes as they swept up and down her body and he lifted his hand to his head. ‘Ouch.’ He gave the back of his head an exaggerated rub. ‘I think one o’clock in the morning sounds a perfect time for a bacon-and-baked-bean sandwich. Hours past dinner and hours until breakfast.’

She pursed her lips. He was getting to her. He was definitely getting to her. She wasn’t quite sure if it was the guilt trip working or the rising tension she could feel in the air between them.

‘Fine.’ She turned around and flicked a few switches on the coffee machine. ‘What do you want to drink?’

He stared at the machine as his brow creased. She hid her smile. The first time she’d seen the coffee machine she had been bamboozled by it. It had taken a few attempts to finally get it right.

‘What does that do—make coffee or beam you up?’

‘Oh, if it could beam you up I’d press that button right away,’ she said smartly, as she walked back over to the fridge, pulled out the bacon and fired up the grill.

He folded his arms across his chest. He looked amused, maybe even intrigued by her sparky response. ‘So, now we’re getting to see the true you.’

‘As opposed to what?’

He laughed. ‘As opposed to the crazy ammunition-wielding giant pink teddy bear I met when I arrived.’

She glared at him as she put the bacon under the grill. ‘Let’s see.’ She counted off on her fingers. ‘You’ve ruined my night. It seems like you’re going to interrupt the two weeks of sanctuary I was expecting to have here. You’ve insulted my favourite nightwear. Scared me half to death. Stolen my chocolate and blackmailed me into making you something to eat.’ She folded her arms back at him. ‘Why, Reuben, you’re my favourite person in the world right now.’

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