Innocent in the Billionaire's Bed by Clare Connelly

Innocent in the Billionaire's Bed by Clare Connelly

Author:Clare Connelly [Connelly, Clare]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: HarlequinUKLtd
Published: 2017-10-31T23:00:00+00:00


CHAPTER EIGHT

TILLY WAS GOING to burst.

Besides the lashing of the rain and the bursting of thunder the house was silent, and had been all morning. He’d worked, and she’d read—or pretended to read. All she’d been able to do was replay the mortifying moments of the previous day, cringing inwardly as she remembered each little bit of information.

Had she actually been stroking him when they were on their way back?

Her cheeks flushed pink. She would never forgive herself. And she’d sure as hell never touch wine again.

She shifted on the couch, curling her legs beneath her and flicking a page.

He had been the perfect gentleman. Was that surprising?

No.

It wasn’t.

It was Rio.

Well, so far as impersonating Cressida went she’d nailed it. At least that was some consolation.

He hadn’t said a word. And nor had she—though curiosity over what he was doing had begun to fill her, distracting her from the book.

Finally she set it in her lap, her eyes lifting to him.

‘Yes?’ he murmured, without looking up.

Embarrassment flushed through her once more. She felt like a naughty child caught snacking from the cookie jar. ‘Nothing.’ She bit down on her lip. ‘What are you working on?’

He turned to face her now, his eyes like granite in his handsome face. ‘Evaluations.’

‘For insurance?’

‘No. For purchase.’ He pushed back from the table a little, stretching his arms above his head.

Tilly nodded, but she wasn’t really thinking about his work. Before she could find another topic a sharp, bright burst of lightning cracked overhead, and was followed immediately by the rumbling of angry thunder so loud that the windows shook. And then the lights began to flicker, before going off completely, plunging them into an eerie semi-darkness.

Though it was the middle of the day, the island was wrapped in grey, the sky thick and unyielding, the sun nowhere to be seen. The cabin almost glowed.

‘What happened?’ she murmured, standing up instinctively.

He frowned. ‘My guess is the generator blew a fuse.’

She blinked. ‘Something you can fix?’

‘Sure.’ He scraped his chair back and moved to the window, peering around the corner of the cabin. ‘I’ll take a look.’

He’d pulled on a shirt at some point, and now he slipped his shoes on and pushed out through the front door. Curious, she followed—though she stopped on the deck and moved to the side, so she could see him without getting wet.

The generator was apparently round at the side of the house. She peeked around the wall, and more specifically at him. Rain was lashing against him; he was saturated. His clothes were plastered to his body, his hair a dark pelt against his head. He moved confidently, his fingers testing the switches in a box.

He shook his head, his eyes scanning the house before resting on her. ‘It’s the generator.’

She nodded. Wasn’t that what he’d said he’d fix?

He moved closer, standing just beneath her and shouting so she could hear him above the aggressive storm. ‘The generator is over there.’ He nodded towards a small structure she hadn’t noticed before.



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