The Billionaire's Beautiful Intruder (Billionaire Knights Book 3) (6 page)

T
he sunlight pierced
the curtains and Molly awoke with a start. Suddenly the previous night’s events came back to her. The storm. Steve’s arms around her. The way she’d felt cuddled up against him and then, just as abruptly, how she’d ended their embrace. She was falling under his spell, she recognized, and knew how unfair it was to keep him at bay but at bay he must be kept, lest he discovered she was only half a woman. Saddened but determined, she strode from the room and walked straight into him. He was carrying a tray with coffee, toast, and scrambled eggs.

Surprised, she gasped, “For me? But…”

He grimaced. “Thought it might make you feel better after the terrible night you had.”

She smiled at him, touched by his kindness. So beneath that forbidding exterior there actually lurked a nice man. But then she’d only to remember his kisses to know that there was a lot more to Steve Knight than met the eye.

“Thanks, Steve,” she told him softly, taking the tray from him. Then she changed her mind. “Actually, why don’t we have breakfast together? I mean, since we’re going to be spending the next week together, it just seems—” She stopped when she caught his frown. “What? If you don’t want to share our meals that’s also fine. I just thought—”

“A week?” he interrupted her brusquely.

“Yes. Marco will pick me up next week and then I’ll be out of your hair. If only I’d known you were fine I wouldn’t have come out here, but now that I’m here we might just as well make the best of it.”

He was still eyeing her curiously, and something churned in her gut. And as she watched his grim-faced expression she knew she was in trouble before he even spoke the words. “Marco doesn’t come out here every week, Molly,” he told her tersely. “He only drops in once a month.”

She gasped in shock. “A month! But…”

His eyes had lost their kindness, and a wry look had settled there. “You’re stuck here with me for the entire month. Do you still want to share meals?”

Abruptly he turned to leave, and she was momentarily too distracted to respond. But then she called out to his retreating back, “Yes. Yes, I do!”

When he turned and gave her an odd look, she repeated, “Yes. Even though we got off on the wrong foot, we owe it to ourselves to make the best of a difficult situation. It’s obvious that you didn’t choose this, and neither did I…”

He quirked an inquisitive eyebrow. “You didn’t choose this?”

“No, I mean…” She didn’t know how to explain it to him without hurting his feelings, so she prevaricated. “That is, my manager told me…”

“Your boss forced you into coming here? Is that it?”

She could sense there was an edge to his voice, but she chose to ignore it. It was important, in light of the fact that they would be spending a lot of time together, to clear up any misunderstandings there might be between them, so they could find some common ground and move on. So she took a deep breath, the smell of freshly toasted bread and coffee filling her nostrils as she did so.

“You know most of this from when I arrived but let me tell you the full story. Your brothers offered to donate one million pounds to Saint-Michael’s Hospital if one of its staff—its burn unit more precisely—agreed to take care of you. They were concerned about you, especially your mental state.” She was aware of his hard stare but trudged on. “They actually thought you might be suicidal. My colleagues all had some excuse not to come out here—most of them have families and didn’t want to be away from them for so long—so I became the reluctant volunteer. I admit I wasn’t keen at first, as I felt it wasn’t fair to my other patients, but the hospital needs that money. Budget cuts have really hurt us badly, and a million pounds makes a big difference.” She held up her hand. “And yes, I refused at first. I had you pegged for a rich, entitled, arrogant pain in the behind but Malcolm convinced me to take the job anyway so I did.”

“Malcolm?” he asked quietly.

“My manager. He’s the one your brothers approached.”

He watched her intently. “So you thought I was a rich, entitled, arrogant pain in the ass, huh?”

She nodded, chewing her lower lip. “In my defense, I didn’t know you, Steve. Now that I do…” She hesitated. “Well, you’re not as bad as all that.”

“And what did my brothers offer you?”

“Nothing,” she came back immediately. “Like I told you the other day.”

Was she truthful? He could hardly believe it. In the world he inhabited, the world of cutthroat business deals, money was all that mattered to anyone at any time. “But you’re still getting paid, right?” he insisted, studying her carefully.

She picked up a piece of toast and took a dainty nibble. He watched her sink her perfectly white teeth into the toast and something churned in his gut. How did she manage to make the act of eating toast look so incredibly sexy? “Well, I have my salary, of course, but apart from that, no one is paying me anything.”

“No bonus? No extra fee?” he queried, gobsmacked.

“The satisfaction of helping out a person in need is all the payment I need, and of course I get to stay here for free, and enjoy the food and your hospitality.”

A sliver of guilt sliced into his harsh front. He hadn’t exactly been the epitome of hospitality. Even now he’d practically accused her of being in it simply for the money, while all she wanted was to take care of the people who were obviously closest to her heart: her patients. He couldn’t help but feel a tug at his own heart for her attitude, a definite rarity in the world he inhabited.

It reminded him of the people who’d taken care of him when he’d been flown out of Iraq and back to the UK. The doctors and the nurses who’d watched over him, and especially the medical team who’d worked on his heart for so many hours, replacing the damaged one with the heart that now beat in his chest. A twinge of guilt colored those memories, like it always did. And he found himself viewing Molly with different eyes. She was one of the people who worked selflessly and tirelessly to heal others, to make certain that the people in need were taken care of, and he recognized that he owed her a great deal of gratitude.

He took the tray from her. “Where are you taking that?” she asked anxiously.

“You wanted to have breakfast together, right?”

He watched as a smile lit up her features, and that same tug at his heart was back in full force. She wasn’t merely a beautiful woman but a woman with a big heart as well. Careful, Steve, he told himself. Don’t get emotionally involved. Before you know it you’ll be in way over your head. He set down the tray in the breakfast nook, and watched as she dug in. She was quite obviously famished.

“You’re not eating?” she asked him in between two spoonfuls of egg.

“I already ate.”

“Do you always get up so early?”

He shrugged. “Yes,” he simply said. He’d gotten into the habit of waking up when the sun came up, and going to bed when the sun called it a night. It was easy to follow nature’s way out here. “When I first arrived I had a lot of trouble sleeping,” he confessed, when he found her watching him eagerly, inviting him to take her into his confidence. He wondered why it was so easy to talk to her. “Back then I still suffered a lot more from the nightmares that haunted me.”

“Nightmares?”

“Yes.” He settled on the banquette, his back against the wall. “You may have noticed I’ve got some… scars on my back and chest?”

“I saw those. What happened?”

He closed his eyes, a thought wrinkle appearing on his brow. “It happened during my third tour of duty in Iraq. We were there in an advisory capacity only, assisting the Iraqi army in trying to fight the insurgency. We weren’t even supposed to be out there that day, but as we were on patrol with our Iraqi counterparts we were suddenly ambushed. The first vehicle hit a landmine and was ripped apart, and next thing we knew we were taking heavy fire, the entire convoy under attack.”

And as he related the events of that day, he experienced the terrible scene all over again. “We were pinned behind our Humvee, returning fire, when suddenly out of nowhere a truck appeared, on a collision course with us. I recognized it for what it was: a bomb truck. Before we could respond, the vehicle detonated, taking out my entire unit and most of the Iraqis. My back was torched by the blast, and I was just shrugging off my burning clothes when there was a second explosion and a piece of shrapnel was catapulted into my chest.

“When reinforcements showed up they discovered I still had a pulse, and so did my buddy Victor…” He swallowed, then forced himself to go on. “Victor McGinney. We were both banged up pretty bad, and when the medical people assessed the damage they decided Vic didn’t stand a chance but I did. They worked on me for hours, and ended up replacing my heart with Vic’s.” This was the hardest part, and his voice broke. Then he felt her fingers on his, and he looked up in surprise. Warmth seeped into his skin, and he found himself gazing into a pair of understanding eyes and he took a deep breath. “Vic wasn’t going to make it, he’d lost too much blood, but miraculously his heart was fine. So they took it and implanted it in my chest.” Sadness clouded his brow as he tapped his breastbone. “It’s his heart that’s now beating inside me. His heart that saved my life.” He shook his head. “Not a day goes by that I don’t wish our roles had been reversed. That it was Vic who was still alive today, spending time with his family.”

“It’s all right,” she said softly, curling her fingers in his. “It’s all right, Steve.”

And then, remarkably and quite unexpectedly, he found a single tear sliding down his cheek. And when he looked up into Molly’s eyes, he could see so much warmth and kindness there that something snapped inside him, as if a tightness that had always been there suddenly gave way, like a coiled spring. He gave her a curt nod in appreciation. “Thanks for listening, Molly.”

She smiled. “That’s what I’m here for, Steve.”

He reached out and wiped a crumb from the corner of her mouth, then, before he knew what he was doing, he was reaching over the table, and placing his lips on hers. And then, even more surprisingly, she was kissing him back, and when he took the kiss deeper, she was all eagerness and he was lost.

H
er lips were
warm and soft, and even though he knew he shouldn’t, there was something entirely intoxicating about her that made her impossible to resist. Especially since she was moaning in response to his gentle caress. The air was awash with pheromones, and for a brief moment they were locked in a bubble of eroticism that was entirely of their own making. But then, just as abruptly as it had begun, it ended, when Molly lowered her head and moved away from him.

He felt a sudden anger at the rejection, but then knew it was for the best.

If she hadn’t checked him, he would have gone on and taken this kiss a lot further than he’d intended, perhaps even to the point of no return, and there was no knowing what might have happened if he had. Well, that wasn’t necessarily true, of course. What would have happened was they would have slept together, and sooner rather than later she would have bitterly regretted it. And blamed him.

He glanced at her lowered eyelids, her lashes fanning over blushing cheeks, and he suddenly had the distinct impression that she wasn’t as proficient at the mating game as he might have thought. Could it be that she was… a virgin?

He quickly eradicated the outrageous notion. She wasn’t the least bit bashful. Judging from her kisses he was definitely not her first, and besides, how old was she? Twenty-three? Twenty-four? At that age no woman remained a virgin in this day and age. No, it was simply that she didn’t want him, but didn’t want to tell him to his face. She was, after all, in the business of helping people, and rejecting him out of hand was simply not part of who she was. So he should take a hint and leave her in peace from now on. It was obvious that he was only making matters worse. If they were going to coexist here for the next couple of weeks he’d better not make this harder on them instead of easier.

So he swiftly rose from his chair, and walked to the back door and outside, picking up the axe he’d dropped there, and returned to the arduous task of chopping wood. At least it gave him something to do. It might even prevent his mind from spinning erotic images like it had been doing nonstop since yesterday. And with a vicious thwack he cleaved another log, sending splinters flying.

Molly sat motionless for the longest time. She shouldn’t have done it, she knew. She should never have given him a way into her heart. Now she was lost each time he kissed her, unable to resist what he was ready to give. But she couldn’t accept him into her heart, into her soul, into her bed. The moment he found out about her, he’d be running away from her so fast she wouldn’t even be aware of the crack in her heart until it was too late.

Better not allow this budding romance to go anywhere, lest it ended in heartache, recriminations and pain, especially the latter. And even though she was no stranger to pain, it wasn’t as if she was willing to invite it into her life just like that, just because she couldn’t control the urges of her flesh whenever she was around Steve. He seemed to provoke in her a physical response that was hard to tamp down. She wanted him, and it appeared he wanted her too, even if it was only because he had physical urges that hadn’t been satisfied in months.

She could hardly tell him that on top of the fact that she would die from shame and mortification if he saw her naked, that she was a virgin as well.

She’d still lived at home when the devastating tragedy had hit, and hadn’t been with anyone. There had been boys and dates, of course, but nothing that had ever gone past a chaste kiss on the lips. She wasn’t prepared to go to bed with a boy unless she loved him, and none of the boys she’d dated had touched her heart. And then the attack had come and she’d been scarred for life.

Apart from the fact that physically she would have been in considerable pain if she’d had sex in those early months, she wasn’t in the mood for love and dates, the depression of losing her family having hit her hard. Later she’d simply not wanted to risk the devastation she might feel when a man saw her the way she was now. And since she knew she had little to offer a man, she’d gradually accepted that she would remain single for the rest of her life.

There was no shame in this, for a lot of women remained single, out of choice or circumstance. And since in her situation it was a bit of both, she’d learned to accept her fate and bear it with fortitude. Now, however, with her body having developed a mind of its own whenever Steve was around, she was once again forced to reexamine the decision she’d taken six years ago, and wonder if she shouldn’t, at least this once, allow the sweet sensations of making love to a man to enter her life. If only for the memory; something to hold onto for the rest of her days. A wonderful experience to cherish and nurture forever and ever.

But she knew she mustn’t. Especially now, when she still had to live with this man for an entire month. It would be too awkward—too… dangerous.

Even though she had to admit that perhaps he would understand. He, too, had been scarred for life. Perhaps if he saw her belly he wouldn’t recoil in horror? Perhaps he would understand—maybe even want her regardless?

But it was obvious she’d irked Steve with her refusal just now. She could tell from the violent thwack as he chopped wood outside, his way of coping with her rejection. She just hoped he wouldn’t hold it against her. She knew he was a proud man, and they’d just shared this precious moment where he’d opened his heart to her—the heart he’d received from his friend. The story had touched her own heart, and she now felt so much closer to him. He wasn’t a gruff man at all, he’d just been hurt the way she’d been hurt, and was trying to deal with the pain. He was a kind and decent man, she now saw, and knowing this made the pain of spurning his advances all the more poignant.

So she decided to get out of his hair. She would go down to the small beach and spend some time there. Time away from Steve. She knew that if she was going to spend the rest of the month here, she needed to find some kind of routine, something to do that would take her mind off Steve and the powerful attraction that was slowly building up inside her. She needed to find things to occupy her time, and sitting around the house all day wasn’t what she needed.

So she packed her backpack with a bottle of water, her sun hat, sunblock and a book, and set out for the strip of beach. She wasn’t going to swim, of course—not after what he’d told her. But she was going to spend some leisurely hours away from the house and Steve. She needed to think and what better place to do it than down there at the beach? She opted not to tell Steve about her plans, and soon was on her way, her backpack slung over her shoulders.