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“So?” He stared at her as though he truly had no idea where she was going.

“Well, the house is occupied,” she pointed out. “So, I guess you’ll be leaving by whatever means you arrived at this ungodly hour.”

“You keep saying that, as though one in the morning is incomprehensible.”

She angled her face away, embarrassed to admit that her training regimen was so punishing, she had indeed kept to very staid hours. In fact, she was usually tucked up in bed, fast asleep, by ten at the latest.

“The time of your arrival is beside the point. I’m staying here; you can’t.”

“I’m afraid that’s not the way I see it.”

Excitement bubbled inside of her; she covered it with a stern look. “The house has one bedroom.”

“And a sofa,” he said with a shrug. “I’m not fussy.”

“You’re not serious?”

“At least until we ascertain I don’t have a concussion,” he pointed out, raising a hint of guilt inside Mila. That was an excellent point.

“I have no intention of rolling out the red carpet to a complete stranger.”

His laugh was thick and hoarse and filled up way too much of the space. “You have a long way to go before I could describe you as that welcoming,” he said with a shake of his head. “I’d settle for a coffee and something to eat.”

Her lips parted. “How about I show you to the kitchen and we can call it even.”

“Deal.”

Too late, she realized the trap he’d set so effortlessly, haggling over the small details to gain a much larger acceptance. Somehow, she’d tacitly agreed that he should spend the night, and she couldn’t muster more than the appearance of outrage about it.

Chapter2

MORNING CREPT OVER THE villa on the edge of the island slowly, bathing it gradually in gold and pink, until magic was in the air and for a moment—the smallest moment—she forgot about the man in the living room. But only a moment. After all, he’d been hovering on the periphery of her mind all night, so that every dream she had was suddenly filled with his deep, gruff voice.

Damn it, who was he and what was he doing here? This was her sanctuary, her time to hide away from the world and be alone, licking her wounds as she faced the potential that she might not be able to compete at the Internationals, her dreams completely fractured.

But she wouldn’t let that happen.

Resolutely, she pushed out of bed, careful not to test her ankle with any weight bearing. She dressed gingerly, changing into some black yoga pants and an oversized shirt that hung down over one shoulder, as she had every morning since arriving in Croatia. She couldn’t skate at the moment, but she could still workout, stretching and remaining limber, so that as soon as her doctors gave her the all-clear, she could hit the ice again. With any luck, that would only be in a week or two.

At the door to her room, she hesitated, sucking in a deep breath.

He might still be asleep; after all, it was late when he got in the night before. So? Should she rearrange her schedule to suit him? Of course not. This was her cousin’s house and she was his invited guest. Whoever this man was, she wasn’t about to let him have any impact whatsoever.

She took a perverse pleasure in imagining waking him from a deep slumber, but as she pushed out into the lounge room, it was to discover that he was already up. Not only awake, but wet, and just half-dressed from a swim. Her lips parted and her eyes clung to him as though she’d never seen a naked man before. She curled her hands more tightly around her crutches, needing the extra grip on reality.

“Good morning, sleepy head.”

She arched her brows at that. “It’s still early.”

He lifted his shoulders. “If you say so.”

“Aren’t you tired?” She blurted.

“No.”

She moved into the kitchen, limping on her crutches, conscious of his eyes on her the whole time. Aware of her awkwardness, she reached into the fridge to grab out the bottle of celery juice she’d pressed the day before, pouring some into a glass. “Want some?” She offered with a hint of tartness to her words.

“What is it?” He ran a towel over his hair then let it drape around his neck, his dark eyes following her, so she shivered in a way that made her nipples tingle against her shirt.


Tags: Clare Connelly Billionaire Romance