Defying the Billionaire's Command

Her hair drifted down her back as she shook her head. At least she could be happy that she had saved herself the ultimate humiliation by not sleeping with him. But what was it he had said? ‘I think you’re afraid of the way I make you feel.’

Carly swallowed. He was right, but what did that matter now? When he’d walked out she had known that he wasn’t coming back. Which was what she wanted.

‘Oh, cut it out, Gregory,’ she hollered as the wretched little dog who had been yapping nonstop for the last two minutes kept at it. ‘I’m not in the mood!’

When he didn’t stop she turned her head to locate what had agitated him—a butterfly flapping its wings perhaps—and caught sight of the recalcitrant little dog, which had seemed to be pining all week, dash across the lawn and round the side of the house.

Great, he’d managed to manoeuvre out of his new collar, the long leash he’d been tethered to lying uselessly on the lawn. Sighing heavily, Carly debated whether to let him go, but then her conscience got the better of her and she deftly rolled to her feet.

Picking her way gingerly across the pebbled walkway with her bare feet, she cursed the little dog the whole time until the unexpected roar of an engine brought her head up.

Like some avenging conqueror from the future, Dare James came tearing along the main drive, kicking up dust in his wake.

He pulled the bike up to within an inch of the portico steps and slowly swung his leg over the side.

Mouth dry, Carly watched him pull the black helmet from his head and shake out his hair. Her heart stopped, and then restarted again at twice the speed.

Gregory spotted him at the same time and ran to him, long silky hair blowing back as he launched himself at the man.

Carly’s heart beat double-time as Dare grabbed the dog and ruffled his fur, his eyes on her the whole time. ‘Gregory, my old friend.’ A slow smile spread across his face. ‘What have you brought me?’

Heat suffused Carly’s face as she realised she was standing before him in a new emerald-green bikini she had impetuously bought in the village a few days ago. The sales girl had done a number on her and raved about how the colour made her eyes pop.

‘I always thought that dog had no sense,’ she said waspishly, struggling to contend with the fact that he was standing in front of her, not least of all her embarrassment in being caught at such a disadvantage. ‘Now he’s confirmed it.’

Dare had the gall to laugh at her discomfort and a shiver went through her at the determined glint in his eyes. Placing Gregory on the ground, he pulled off his gloves and stuffed them inside his helmet. ‘It’s nice to see you too, Red.’

‘Stop calling me that ridiculous name.’ It made her want to throw herself into his arms like that wretched, deliriously happy dog had just done.

‘It suits you.’

Carly tossed her hair back, telling herself that the safest course of action was to walk away. ‘You know that leather get-up and hunk of metal behind you are attention-seeking devices?’

He gave her a slow grin. ‘How have you been, Carly?’

‘Perfectly fine.’ Carly’s brow arched at the seductive tilt of his mouth. Walk away, she told herself again. ‘What do you want, Dare?’ she snapped.

‘I need to see Benson.’

It took a moment for his words to penetrate the story Carly had unknowingly begun to fabricate in her head that started with Dare telling her he’d missed her and ended with her in his arms.

Mortified by her own insidious attraction for this man, Carly finally took her own advice and whirled away from him, heading back in the direction that she had come. Benson and Rachel were out visiting friends, but Dare could find that out by knocking at the main door.

Unfortunately she’d barely made it two steps before she stood on something sharp and let out a gasp of pain.

‘Dammit!’ She lifted her foot up to investigate what she might have stood on and lost her balance and landed on her bottom.

Determined to ignore the man who had closed the distance between them, Carly prodded the ball of her foot and noticed what looked like a dried rose thorn marring her skin.

‘Need a doctor?’

‘No.’