Holiday with the Millionaire

By: Scarlet Wilson



She couldn’t believe she was having a normal conversation with a guy she’d thought was breaking into the house. It was all so surreal. Maybe this was a dream? Maybe she’d drunk a little too much wine and fallen asleep in front of the TV? Because, truth be told, Reuben Tyler did look a little like a dream.

She stubbed her toe on the way into the kitchen. ‘Youch!’ She definitely wasn’t dreaming. That had hurt too much.

She waved her hand over the switch to turn the light on and walked to the cupboard on the far wall to retrieve the tablets. Reuben sat on one of the stools at the kitchen island and gave a little sigh.

She grabbed a glass and filled it with water. ‘Here you go.’ She hesitated then added, ‘I’m sorry about your head.’

He looked up at her through lazy, tired eyes. ‘Yeah, yeah. I’m sure I’ll get over it.’

He was looking at her with those chocolate eyes. The stare was so intense it almost felt as if it was burrowing through her thick pink onesie. It was definitely heading for the bin after this. His gaze made her feel uneasy and she started to ramble. ‘There are a few free bedrooms upstairs. I’m on the second floor so I’d appreciate it if you could sleep on one of the other floors. Maybe the third? Since Addison, Caleb and Tristan all sleep on the first floor.’

‘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.’

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