Stranded For One Scandalous Week (Mills & Boon Modern) (Rebels, Brothers, Billionaires Book 1) by Natalie Anderson (best e books to read TXT) 📗

He thanked Josie again and hurried to catch Merle before she disappeared altogether.

‘Why didn’t you come in?’ he asked as he walked her back to the boat.

‘You didn’t want anyone to know you were here. I imagined you wouldn’t want to be seen with anyone else either.’

She didn’t realise that he was pretty much always seen with someone—that it was more unusual for him to be alone in social spaces. Maybe her decision had nothing to do with him. Maybe she’d been playing safe, the way she always did around other people. And she said nothing more now. Did she not talk to people unless they spoke to her first? Did she always hide? Always only work? His curiosity escalated. Why was that? And why the hell was she homeless? She was intelligent and did a good job. What had gone wrong in her life for her to be as alone as she seemed to be?

As they chugged back out into the bay, he watched her relax. He wanted to see her step out into the sunlight again. Her knew she liked the warmth of it. He thought she needed it. But he said nothing, knowing when to hold and when to play his hand. Fifteen minutes later, he slowed the boat and guided it to the small private bay that the outgoing tide had exposed.

She glanced back at him. ‘Ash. This place is magical.’

Yes. It was the perfect place for the Merle he’d first met that night—the Merle who’d been in her element in her bath full of bubbles and beauty.

‘It’s actually still our property, but it’s only accessible by boat and only at the right time with the tide.’ He jumped into the water and held up his hand to help her down.

‘So you timed this ’specially?’

He had.

‘And this is your idea of breakfast?’ Merle giggled as he unpacked the container Josie had handed to him. ‘Champagne and oysters?’

He grinned. He’d known she’d appreciate it—and sharing this with her? This was fun. ‘Aren’t you going to have any?’

He’d poured the champagne and shucked four oysters already, and apparently all Merle could do was stare.

‘I’ve never eaten them,’ she confessed.

‘Ever?’

She shook her head.

‘Here’s to another first, then.’ Suddenly he had so many firsts in his head for her. He couldn’t help teasing. ‘You’ve heard they’re an aphrodisiac?’

‘Ash.’ She glanced at him with those gorgeous eyes. ‘I don’t think I need an aphrodisiac. Right now I need something to calm me down and make me rational again.’

Her slightly husky, sassy honesty stopped his heart.

‘But I like irrational Merle the best,’ he countered.

‘Is it hard to shuck them?’ She watched him pull another shell from the container, chips of ice scattering onto the sand.

‘No. I holidayed here every summer all my youth.’ He laughed and passed her a half-shell. The plump oyster gleamed.

‘You first,’ she muttered, looking very doubtfully at the succulent blob.

He obliged, then raised his brows at her. She took the next one he held out and drew a breath. He watched as the salty treat disappeared between her sweet lips.

‘Thoughts?’ he asked when she’d swallowed.

‘I’m...not sure.’ Her nose wrinkled.

He laughed, again enjoying her honesty. ‘Try another.’

She sipped her champagne to wash it down and Ash broke into the fresh-made fluffy bread and the twist of paper with home-churned butter that had also been in the parcel from the restaurant. She was very appreciative of that combination. He smiled, hiding the aching urge to kiss her, but he knew where that would lead and he still had that odd yearning to prove self-restraint to himself.

Merle finished her bread, licked her lips and suddenly stood.

‘Are you going in the water?’ he asked as she stepped across the sand.

She glanced back at him. ‘I thought I would.’

‘Not in those coveralls—you’ll drown.’

‘Then I’d better take it off.’ A flicker of colour built in her cheeks. ‘I need to clear my head.’

She had a simple black tee beneath and she slipped that over her head to reveal scarlet underwear. Scarlet. He sat back on his hands, tickled. She hadn’t had the opportunity to go shopping in the last twenty-four hours, so those scarlet strips of silk weren’t new, weren’t bought specially for his benefit nor any other lover’s. These were hers, bought for her own pleasure. The heat in his belly exploded. He liked that she indulged herself—those little individual puddings, the bubble bath, the scarlet silk. Her combination of inexperience and earthiness, of sensuality and hesitation with that occasional unpredictability fascinated him.

The urge to chase her was growing. His muscles tensed with the need to wrap her legs around his waist and hold her close. But this was more than his usual desire for release—more than a merely physical ache. This was more fun and more precious. He made himself remain still and watch—appreciating her full, gorgeous curves and inner effervescence as she giggled at the temperature of the water. He only lasted ten seconds before he threw aside any stupid thoughts of self-restraint. He only had a week and it suddenly felt like nothing. He quickly pulled what he needed from the basket and stripped off.

Moments later, he dived after her like the shark he was. He wound his arm around her waist, and to his infinite satisfaction she curled her arms around his neck. Kissing her was pure pleasure. He couldn’t deny her. Couldn’t deny himself. Even after last night, he wanted her more. She’d unlocked a vault of hunger in him. He carried her out of the water and set her down.

‘This is a gorgeous rug,’ she practically purred.

‘Essential,’ he breathed.

He’d tossed it down in those frantic seconds before joining her in the water. Because he didn’t want her sand-burned, didn’t want her soft skin marked in any way. He rolled onto his back so she was above him. Time stretched. A treasure trove of possibility spread over him. He peeled away the scarlet to bare her breasts. She was stunning and he could hardly