She noted the logo of an exclusive sports brand on the oversized sweatshirt she wore. And what on earth was she wearing?

She brushed her wild hair back, then flopped on the bed, as it all came rushing back. The hours of wielding expensive Halloween-themed cocktails in her freezing outfit. The rub of her too-high heels. Frankenstein grabbing her bum. The agony as she’d punched him, followed by the shocking blast of heat at her first glimpse of her host—six feet four inches of toned muscles, darkly compelling eyes and attitude... With a capital A for arrogance.

Was he the person humming?

She slipped out of the huge bed. At least she didn’t feel like a limp dishcloth any more. She glanced at the clothing she remembered putting on after her shower.

Hisclothing.

She could hear movement from the walk-in wardrobe where she’d located the sweats. The humming stopped. To be replaced by a series of rustles.

Was he getting dressed in there?

She stood dumbly in the middle of the bedroom not sure whether to run, hide or demand to know how the heck she had ended up in his bed. Because thishadto be his bed—despite the lack of any personal touches in the room.

She stared at the rumpled sheets. Had he slept with her? But then she noticed the lack on an indent in the pillow next to hers.

She pulled her hands back through her hair, and then down to her bare legs, trying to remember how the night had ended. But all she could seem to grasp was the image of his face, with that wry, knowing smile, and the sparkle of appreciation in his hazelnut eyes.

The heady shot of adrenaline and desire blindsided her. The same way it had last night. But this time, it infused her whole body.

He couldn’t have slept in here. Because she definitely would have remembered it. After all, she’d never shared a bed with a man before.

But instead of feeling relieved, she felt strangely disappointed. Because all she could feel was the languid heat that had followed her in dreams all through the night... Dreams of him, being forceful, arrogant, and super-hot.

‘Hey, you’re up... How are you feeling?’

Ellie’s head jerked up at the gruff statement. And her gaze became glued to a magnificent male chest.Hischest. His completelynakedchest.

Wow.

Her jaw went slack as her gaze devoured each ridge and sinew, each muscular bulge, his tanned skin given a golden glow by the diffused lighting. Curls of hair flared around flat brown nipples, then trailed into a thin line, bisecting washboard abs, before disappearing beneath the sweatpants settled low enough on his lean waist to reveal beautifully defined hip flexors.

The languid heat popped and sizzled, flaring up from her core to explode on her cheeks.

Sweet Lord, the man is a work of art.

‘Hey, Eleanor.’ Strong fingers clicked in front of his six-pack—no, make that an eight-pack—snapping her out of her fugue state. ‘Up here.’ The fingers beckoned, and her stunned gaze rose to the devastating face she remembered from last night.

But not.

His deep brown hair was no longer jet-black and no longer ruthlessly slicked back, but fell in damp waves over his brow. The recently showered look should have softened his strong, angular face—the blade-like nose, the full, sensual lips, the chiselled jaw covered in beard scruff, the piercing hazelnut gaze sparkling with rueful amusement—but it didn’t. At all.

‘How are you?’

Had he asked her that already? Because her mind had gone totally to mush.

‘G-good,’ she squeaked.

How could he stand there, looking so casual, so confident, while she felt as if she were burning up, from the inside out?

‘Are you sure?’ he asked, those sensual lips curved in a mocking smile she recognised. But whereas last night that smile had annoyed her, now it just excited her... Which could not be good. ‘You’re still stammering.’

Of course I’m stammering, I could spontaneously combust at any moment. Duh.

She bit off the comeback. And swallowed, to bring her brain to bear on the problem at hand.

‘Really, I’m good,’ she said, grateful when she managed to get the words out without squeaking. But seriously? Who wouldn’t squeak in the face of such extreme hotness?


Tags: Heidi Rice Billionaire Romance