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

If he got her to deign to talk to him? If he got her to laugh, that would be a bonus point for sure. And if she dined with him that would be a total win. He relished each possible challenge in a game he suddenly ached to play.

‘Haven’t you figured it out yet, Merle?’ he teased, assuming full arrogance and amusement. ‘I’ll bring everything you could ever want.’

CHAPTER THREE

FIRST THING IN the morning, Merle had shut herself in the study with one of the many boxes from the stacks in the multi-car garage. While she wasn’t contracted to work weekends, given the circumstances it seemed a good way of staying out of sight and out of trouble. The enormous wooden table in the cavernous room was perfect for sorting the mountain of papers and the work would occupy her completely for weeks.

Unfortunately, the floor-to-ceiling windows spanning the length of the study overlooked not just the gorgeous sea, but also the stunning infinity pool. And Ash Castle had been making the most of that pool for hours.

Last night he’d said he was here to work, but to Merle it didn’t look as if he was doing anything other than hard-core exercising. He swam length after length. Every so often he emerged to perform push-ups and burpees on the beautifully landscaped deck. Given he was clad in nothing but black swim shorts, it was hard not to notice his lean, muscled strength. But it was his single-minded focus that fascinated her more. Intensely driven, he pushed himself like a man possessed.

Merle couldn’t stop herself watching, equally impressed and aghast as he brought weights out from the gym and lined up the kettle bells into some sort of terrifying poolside circuit. He seemed determined to exhaust himself—which took a lot of effort because apparently the man was ultra-marathon-fit. Maybe the work he meant was some kind of one-week extreme make-over? Was he was going to be modelling or something? Or did he have some super-hot date next weekend that he wanted to be in peak shape for?

Merle couldn’t think of anything worse.

Worse than that, she couldn’t think of anything else. Ash Castle infuriatingly appeared in every thought—her sly mind kept replaying that mortifying moment when he’d walked in on her in his bath. And she kept seeing the wicked laughter in his eyes, the outrageousness in his tone...but the glimpse of tiredness and the fleeting depth of discomfort intrigued her even more. She suspected the man was more complicated than his superficial perfection presented. To make matters even worse she’d actually dreamt about him.

I’m hungry, Merle.

His frank admission had meant something else and her suddenly unreliable body had responded so inappropriately.

Everything you’d ever want.

She knew he meant sexually. And, as inexperienced as she was, she knew he wasn’t. He’d deliver.

Annoyed with her basic instinct fixation, Merle pulled more papers from the box, determined to regain her customary indifference to men and the thought of sex in general. Men and Merle didn’t mix. Ever. Actually, people and Merle rarely mixed. It wasn’t surprising; she’d had an unusual childhood—hiding in the wings of her mother’s shows, then suppressed by her strict disciplinarian grandmother who’d never really wanted her, then isolated at school, where her only escape had been hours at second-hand stalls with her quiet grandfather. She’d become even more isolated while caring for him. But now things were going to change and as soon as she’d got herself on a firm financial footing she’d feel braver about moving forward. Getting this job done would help immeasurably. Squaring her shoulders, she focused on the boxes. Ash Castle was a distraction she couldn’t afford.

It turned out Hugh Castle had been old-school—keeping an extensive collection of everything from business files to correspondence, to orders of service from state functions, to menus from society weddings, to feature articles—mostly about himself. It wasn’t surprising. The man had been massively successful. She labelled each item and inputted the details into the database she’d set up. But she still couldn’t help thinking about his eldest son just outside. Reportedly, the cause of the division between Hugh and Ash had been Ash’s wild lifestyle—all reckless partying and playboy rebellion. But Ash had forged his own success through high finance and venture capital—risky deals that had paid off. He had the gift.

Of course he did.

When Hugh died a year ago there’d been speculation regarding who’d inherit the vast estate—the wayward acknowledged son or the illegitimate son Hugh had refused to recognise. Ash had notoriously declined anything and everything to do with his father for years, yet even so it had stunned people to see Leo, the son Hugh had always denied, taking over the management of the flagship property company Castle Holdings.

Merle’s own curiosity burgeoned, exacerbated by the physicality of the man outside the window. Why had Leo, not Ash, taken over? In a flash of weakness she typed his name into an online search engine—but it was the images that caught her attention. As she scrolled down the never-ending expanse of photos her stomach knotted. There were brunettes, blondes, redheads, women with long hair, bobs or elfin crops, thin and curvy and everything in between... The only thing they had in common was their smug, ‘look at me’ smiles. Merle sharply inhaled, staving off the acidic emotion. Surely she wasn’t jealous?

Apparently Ash Castle had dated a huge, eclectic number of women over the last decade. Of course he had—wasn’t it ‘one night’ only for him? Indeed, rarely did one woman feature in more than a few shots. Yet, while they all wore that satisfied smile, the look in his eyes didn’t reflect the same. The gleam wasn’t desire, more like resentment, and in many he’d raised his hand to block the blinding flash or push away the paparazzi blocking his path. The photos went back years, documenting a familiarity with a party lifestyle Merle hadn’t experienced. She didn’t want to. She liked her life as it was—safe.

She shut down the