Stranded For One Scandalous Week (Mills & Boon Modern) (Rebels, Brothers, Billionaires Book 1), Natalie Anderson [android e book reader .txt] 📗

up over something that had happened a long time ago. A series of events had morphed together into a tangle from which he’d drawn conclusions that weren’t necessarily true. She could understand how he had when such deep, devastated emotions were at play. That was because of the person Ash was. And that was the point.

‘You’re different from your father,’ she said urgently, aching for him to believe her. But she saw his instant negation. ‘You are—’

‘Some things can’t be changed,’ he interrupted bitterly. ‘I am who I am.’

‘Workaholic, fiery, full of energy and independence,’ she said. ‘And you try to hide it, but you’re a man who cares.’

He turned a burning gaze on her but she held it defiantly, daring him to deny it.

‘I don’t believe you want to give this place up, Ash.’

‘I can’t keep it like this.’ He glanced across at the lawn again. ‘He destroyed everything she built.’

‘Then rebuild it. No one says you can’t do what you want with it. Things can change, Ash. People can too.’

‘Eternally optimistic, aren’t you?’ But his small smile didn’t reach his eyes.

‘I don’t see that as a negative.’ She put her hand on his arm, hoping to somehow get him to believe her. ‘Everyone makes mistakes. Everyone screws up. Everyone hurts someone—intentionally or not. That’s part of being human,’ she said. ‘Maybe the trick isn’t to try to erase it, or even to ease it, but just to accept that it happened. That it’s there. So there’s a little weight you carry and maybe you’ll always have it, but that’s okay.’ Beneath her hand, she felt his tension. ‘Because you’d do things differently now, right?’ she said softly. ‘Facing the same situation now, you wouldn’t do that again.’

‘Of course not.’

‘So—’ she smiled ‘—you’ve learned something. It’s just very sad you didn’t get to see your mother again so she could see that too. And it’s sad your father took everything of hers away. I’m so sorry he did that.’

Ash looked directly at her again. She saw pain in his amber eyes. And tiredness.

‘Thanks, Merle.’ A gruff whisper of appreciation.

Yet Merle felt as if he was slipping away from her. That her words hadn’t comforted him at all—they’d been futile. Like seeds scattered on hardened, dry land.

He stepped away. ‘I think I need a swim.’

She watched him walk away, feeling oddly bereft. This morning she’d dressed in the scarlet jumpsuit she’d worn last night. Partly because the silk felt heavenly against her sensitive skin but mostly because she hadn’t wanted her fairy-tale night to be over yet. But the heat of the day had built and now the sunlight was harsh. He’d been right. It had been seconds away from burning her skin. And what he’d told her lingered. The parallels she felt with Rose made her wince. How easy it would’ve been to wish there might be more meaning in Ash’s actions. He’d have been spellbinding, a force of nature even then, with that ferocity of intent. But she also knew how easy it was to misinterpret someone’s intentions. And he’d certainly learned from the resultant horror. He didn’t let any woman get the wrong impression now. Not relationships. Only sex. And in business he’d been driven to succeed on a scale impossible to most people, desperate to build something bigger and better than his father.

Her heart ached for him as she showered and dressed. He was still swimming length after length, so she didn’t interrupt him. She sensed he needed time to clear his head. So she went in search of a displacement activity of her own.

It was another two hours till he came in. He was back in his shorts, a white tee skimming his broad chest. Her heart bumped against her ribcage.

‘What have you been up to?’ He didn’t quite meet her gaze.

She didn’t want things to be awkward, so she tried to keep it light as she surveyed the mess she’d made in the kitchen. ‘I cooked dinner. Elevated instant noodles.’

He shot her a glance. To her relief the old smile flickered in his eyes. ‘Elevated? They’re still instant noodles.’

‘Are you not prepared to give them a chance?’ she asked primly.

‘I’ll try them. For you.’

The merest hint of his old flirt lifted a bubble of hope in her. She set dinner out on the table of one of the smaller dining nooks, still with a stunning view across the bay, and opened another bottle of champagne.

‘Champagne with noodles?’ he queried.

‘The perfect accompaniment.’

‘And is that lobster tail I see in there?’ He stirred the contents of his steaming bowl with a fork and began to laugh.

‘Elevated, as I said.’ She grinned impishly at him. ‘Isn’t it amazing how satisfying something can be, even when it’s pulled together from sparse ingredients?’

He shot her a look across the table. ‘I don’t think we can consider lobster sparse.’

‘Still full of flavour and delicious. Still satisfying.’ She wilfully ignored his interruption. ‘And yet it can still leave you wanting more.’

His lips twitched and she finally saw him fully relax with a long sigh. ‘Oh, Merle. I definitely want more.’

CHAPTER ELEVEN

MERLE WALKED THROUGH the eerily quiet house. It was stupid but she was almost afraid to call out to him—afraid there would be no reply. So she crept quietly, slowly searching each space, hoping to find him. Fearing she wouldn’t. While ‘playful’ Ash had reappeared last night at dinner, by the time they’d gone to bed he’d fallen silent. But he hadn’t slept. He’d turned to her—touched her, taken her with a wordless, gentle intimacy that had been different yet again. The tender intensity had devastated her, yet she’d held him too—feeling the emotions humming within him. It hadn’t been a fiercely passionate escape into the physical. It had been deeper than that—there’d been no escape from the emotion, there’d been a silent exposition of it. Of need. Of wonder. Of connectedness. And she’d loved it. Loved him. Until she’d finally fallen asleep, still holding him close.

But when