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Holiday with the Millionaire

Page 55

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A siren that he couldn’t even have imagined. Couldn’t even have dreamed of.

He licked his lips and she unconsciously mimicked his act. He bent a little lower—more for him than for her. Now he could suck in her scent—the smell of shampoo, floral perfume and soap. Delicious. Now he could brush his lips against her ear and push back her silky soft hair. ‘We’ve got seven to choose from. Which would you like to try?’

She turned her head slightly and fixed him with her gaze. ‘Surprise me.’

There was a rush of blood around his body and a roaring in his ears. There was no way he could last the night. It was inevitable. Things had been building to this point from the very first moment. Tonight they were heading straight into the eye of the storm—straight into the climax.

He crooked his elbow towards her. ‘Well, Ms Callaway, let’s see where the night takes us.’

She raised her eyebrows as she tucked her arm into his elbow. ‘Let’s see indeed.’

* * *

They finally decided on the French restaurant. It had a quiet ambience with candlelit tables and a view of the ocean, a pianist on a grand piano in the corner and waiters who seemed to move without making a sound.

The plates of succulent food appeared and disappeared like moves in a carefully choreographed dance. She hardly tasted a thing. All she could think about was the main event.

Reuben appeared much calmer than she was. He spent the evening specialising in small talk, asking about her job, her plans and if she’d heard anything from the agent in London trying to find her a flat.

She’d almost forgotten about that.

She stared down at the trio of desserts in front of her. Every one of them she loved. But her stomach was too busy doing flip-flops to eat. ‘I’ll need to email her back. I’ll do it tomorrow. I’m sure she’s found me somewhere.’

‘Hasn’t she already sent you an email with some rentals?’

Lara sighed. ‘Yeah, but one was too far away, another way too expensive and the other one was a shared flat with three other people. I’m not sure about that one.’

He gave a wicked smile. ‘Are you worried they’ll complain about your snoring?’

‘What?’ She flung her napkin towards him. ‘I do not snore.’ Then she stopped to think for a second and leaned forward. How would she know? ‘At least, I don’t think I do. Do I?’

The thought of Reuben listening to her snoring for the last ten nights filled her with complete dread.

He laughed and tossed her napkin back. ‘Of course you don’t.’ He winked. ‘I would have woken you up if you did.’

She tilted her head to the side. ‘You talk in your sleep, you know.’

His eyes widened. He actually looked shocked. ‘What?’

She smiled. ‘Yeah, you do. Quite a lot, actually. Sometimes you have full conversations as if you’re really talking to someone.’

He shifted in his seat and she couldn’t help but feel amused at Reuben looking a little sheepish. ‘What do I say?’

She gave a wicked smile and lifted her wine glass. ‘Lots of things you probably shouldn’t.’

He shifted again. ‘I’m not sure I like the sound of that.’ There was a rasp in his voice. It sent tiny tremors down her spine. Her imagination was working overtime.

She looked at him carefully. She didn’t want to do anything to spoil the chemistry between them—but it was time to get it out there.

‘You mutter mainly. Sometimes about your mum and dad, sometimes about Caleb.’

It was as if he froze. His hand was midway to his glass and it just stopped.

‘Oh.’

‘Oh? Is that all I’m going to get?’

His eyes were fixed on the table. For the first time all night he wasn’t looking at her. It didn’t feel right. It didn’t feel natural. Eventually he ran his hand through his hair with a sigh.

He lifted his brown eyes to meet hers. ‘I might not have been entirely truthful about why Addison doesn’t like me much.’

It was like a little cool breeze over her skin. She set down her wine glass. ‘Tell me.’

He stared out of the window at the gorgeous view. ‘Addison came in at the wrong moment. Caleb had just called me on my behaviour.’

‘What kind of behaviour?’

‘He knew my parents. He knew what they were like. I was being childish. He’d told me he loved Addison and was going to marry her and I told him that love didn’t exist and he was wasting his time on some fantasy.’

She wasn’t sure where this was going. ‘And?’

He sighed again. ‘And, then he told me to grow up. He told me every kind of relationship wasn’t like my mum and dad’s. The world was full of people who loved each other just as much as he loved Addison and not to judge their relationship by the warped one my parents had.’



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