Stranded For One Scandalous Week (Mills & Boon Modern) (Rebels, Brothers, Billionaires Book 1) Natalie Anderson (that summer book .txt) 📖

regret that she’d been unable to mask. But she didn’t want to go there. Too embarrassing. There was a long moment of silence that she refused to break.

‘Where are your grandparents now?’ He didn’t relent.

She sighed. ‘Three years after I went to live with them, my grandmother had a stroke. She became more difficult. It was a hard couple of years before she had another stroke that left my grandfather on his own with me. He was worn out from caring for her and it took me a while to realise his cognitive abilities were declining. In the end, I couldn’t manage him on my own, not with needing to work as well to support us both. So he went into a facility. I sold the house, and everything else, to ensure he got good care. He passed away eight months ago.’

‘That’s why you’re between residences? You sold the house to cover his care costs?’

She nodded. ‘I only got this job because my boss at the records management company is pregnant and needed someone who could take a live-in job. I did an interview online with Leo. I was lucky and I need to do a good job here.’

A flash of guilt curdled her blood. What was she doing taking the week off work? Worse—spending it with Ash like this? Fraternising with her client’s half-brother was surely a huge mistake—the most unprofessional thing she’d done in her life.

‘Don’t panic.’ He read her mind. ‘I’m gone at the end of the week, remember? There won’t be any repercussions. You’ll get the job done. What’s happened between us won’t have any impact on the future.’

Wouldn’t it? That seemed impossible. She wasn’t the same person she was yesterday, was she? Or perhaps this wanton lover had been inside her all along, just waiting for Merle to allow that part of herself to be unleashed. There was no locking her away again now.

‘That’s why I’m not going to “burn the lot” like you keep telling me to,’ she said softly.

‘The only reason I haven’t is out of respect for the volunteer firefighters.’ He grimaced.

‘You don’t want to keep any of it?’ She didn’t quite understand why. ‘You have good memories here.’

‘I have bad ones too.’

She hesitated but had to ask. ‘Did she die here?’

He nodded slowly. ‘But I wasn’t here at the time.’

He didn’t want to talk about it. She recognised the reluctance because it mirrored her own. Digging too deep hurt. This week with him was only an interlude, an experience. One she had to handle lightly.

She threw the blanket off and stood up on the sand, shaking free of the melancholy that had briefly descended. ‘I think it’s time for another swim.’

CHAPTER EIGHT

ASH SAT ON the deck absorbing the morning sun and reading while waiting for her to wake. He’d swum, then prepped a simple breakfast that was on the table beside him. Letting her rest was hard. The selfish part of him wanted to go in there and wake her. But she needed her sleep; they’d shared yet another very late night.

He couldn’t concentrate on his book. Memories stirred and impatience tightened his muscles. He hadn’t holidayed in years. For all the nights out or weekends partying on a yacht, there’d always been a laptop on the desk, a call to be made, business to be done. But he hadn’t checked his emails in four days—the longest stretch ever. Time had slipped easily and deliciously like those plump oysters had slid down his throat two days ago. Hours could be lost in the simple pleasure of kissing Merle Jordan and long, sunny days had bled into long, hot nights. It was easy to forget why he’d come here in the first place and that he’d never intended to linger like this. He focused only on Merle. Together, they’d discovered she had a penchant for skinny dipping and she’d laughingly embraced her sensual, hedonistic side. She also had a hidden decadence that was dangerous to his peace of mind. They laughed, ate and drank and duelled over anything and everything light and simple. Drawing her out, engaging her, was rewarding. She was a quick learner and fiercely competitive and now she held nothing back. Her teasing smile alone sent anticipation rippling down his spine.

She’d blossomed before his eyes. But even though she’d let him in, he was more curious than ever. She’d been lonely, her early life lacking in laughter. He’d had to teach her the rules to the most common of board games. That was why she’d been so quick to choose snakes and ladders the other night. It was the only game she’d known how to play. He wanted her to experience more of the things she’d missed out on. And he wanted her to experience them with him.

Half an hour later she joined him, her eyebrows lifting. ‘You wear glasses.’

‘I do.’

‘So there’s something less than perfect about your body,’ she teased.

‘You think the rest of my body is perfect?’ He smirked.

‘It’s not like you don’t already know that.’

‘Still, I’m touched, given it’s you who thinks so.’

‘My opinion matters?’ Half disbelieving, half flirt. Wholly gorgeous.

‘Very much.’

She rolled her eyes and angled her head to read the spine of the book he was holding. ‘It’s an amazing library in there. Someone took time and effort to amass a good collection.’

‘My father bought someone else’s lifetime effort. He didn’t carefully select each item himself. It was an investment,’ he said drily. ‘Like the art and the wine. It was for money, not love.’

‘He loved the actual collecting.’

‘He was avaricious. Not for love but for show. There’s a difference.’ Merle, Ash suspected, would always collect things for love. Things that held meaning to her. ‘I still can’t believe you don’t have piles of dusty old things perfectly arranged in boxes with ridiculously detailed labels, keeping everything for ever and ever.’

She giggled and picked up the small bowl of fresh fruit he’d sliced for her. ‘You think I’m a future hoarder?’

‘Yes.’

She