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Dammit, Tristan was right. She had wanted him earlier in his office. Had, in fact, been completely enthralled by the sensations and emotions his touch had evoked.

The memory made her cheeks heat with shame. Hadn’t she learned anything from his first rejection of her? Was she just a glutton for punishment?

Lily sighed and leaned her head back against the butter-soft leather seat, wishing she hadn’t decided to come back to England after all this time. She should never have told Jordana she could make her wedding. Would be in her wedding!

It seemed that the stars had aligned and no matter which way she looked she was being sent a message that she wasn’t as ready to come home as she had thought. And maybe she never would be.

Thankfully her morose thoughts halted when Tristan’s powerful car pulled up and waited for the ten-metre-high wrought-iron gates to open. Lily glanced at the towering stone mansion softly lit by discreet exterior lights that made it seem as if it touched the skyline.

The car inched forward and down into an underground car park that held a motorbike, a four-wheel drive, and a gleaming red sports car.

A sense of entrapment suffused her, and Lily felt so tense she jumped out of the car before it had come to a complete stop. Then wished she hadn’t as she swayed and had to grab hold of the roof to steady herself.

Tristan’s mouth tightened, but he didn’t say anything as she followed him to a lift.

A lift!

‘The house belonged to an elderly couple before I bought it,’ he said, noticing her surprised reaction.

Lily didn’t respond; emotional exhaustion and jet lag were weighing her down as effectively as a giant bag of sand. She calculated that it was about 5:00 a.m. in Bangkok, which meant that she’d been up all night, and the effort it took to work that out made her nearly trip over her own feet when the lift doors opened.

Tristan cursed and reached for her, and cursed again when she stumbled trying to avoid him.

‘Don’t be a fool,’ he ground out as she wrenched her elbow out of his reach.

‘I don’t want you touching me,’ she snapped, wedging herself into the far corner of the panelled lift and staring at his shoes.

‘Fine—fall over, then,’ he mocked, moving to the opposite side of the small space.

Tristan h

ad briefly considered arguing with her, but if she wanted to deny the sexual chemistry between them then that was her prerogative. He should probably take a leaf out of her book and do the same thing. It had been silly, goading her in the restaurant, rising to her challenge. A challenge, he’d sensed from her awkwardness afterwards, that had been more innocent than intentional.

And maybe he’d have more success ignoring the chemistry between them if she’d stop flinching every time he came within spitting distance of her? Because that just made a primitive part of him want to pursue her even more.

‘You need to stop doing that,’ he said.

She raised her eyes from his feet all the way up his body and looked at him from under pitch-black lashes. ‘Breathing?’ she quipped, folding her arms across her chest as he mimicked her leisurely scrutiny.

He barely resisted the urge to smile. Yeah, that would help.

She glanced away and worried her top lip and he wished she’d stop doing that as well.

The lift doors opened and Tristan strode out and dumped his keys on the small hallway table, walking through the vast foyer and up the marble staircase. He noticed her glance around at the pristine surroundings and the priceless artwork on the walls as she trailed behind.

His home was modern and elegant, with eclectic pieces he’d picked up from his travels here and there, and he wondered what she thought of it. And then wondered why he cared.

He stopped outside the room he’d asked his housekeeper to allocate to her. ‘This is your room. Mine’s at the end of the hall.’

He opened the door and stood back to let her precede him inside. When her scent hit him between the eyes he steeled himself against what he was about to do.

‘As you can see, your suitcases are already inside the dressing room and the en suite bathroom is through there.’ He flicked open another door and hit the light switch. ‘My housekeeper was instructed to make the room ready, so you should have everything you need.’

She didn’t say anything, just stood beside the silk-covered queen-sized bed clutching her bag.

‘I’ll need to see the bag before I go,’ he said evenly.

‘What for?’ She snapped her eyes to his.


Tags: Michelle Conder Billionaire Romance