Page 15 of The Billionaire's Christmas Bride

"What else?"

"What do you mean?" I frown.

"What else can you do for me?" he drawls.

"I could…uh, drive you around, like I already said."

"And?" His lips curl and his eyes gleam.

Oh, no, no, he’s not getting at that."Whatever it is you’re thinking, you can forget about it," I huff.

"How do you know what I am thinking?"

"A man like you has only one thing on your mind."

"As opposed to a woman like you?"

"I’m not the one walking around naked."

"Does it bother you?"

"Of course, it bothers me." I swipe my hair over my shoulders. "How would it feel if I were to walk around without clothes?"

"Are you offering?" He smirks.

I throw up my hands, "Oh, forget I said anything. Clearly, this entire discussion is going nowhere… Meanwhile—" A whine sounds from beyond him, "Don’t keep Max waiting. Feed the poor thing, will you?"

He scowls, "Don’t tell me what to do."

"Oh, my God." I plant my hands on my hips, grimace when that dislodges more water from my clothes. "You’re bloody impossible."

"And you’re staying out here."

He walks inside, slams the door behind him.The hell?I race forward, try the door. It’s locked. Of course, it is. I bang on it. "Weston, you asshole, let me in."

No answer, not that I expected one… But how dare he simply…lock me out? I kick at the door. Pain shoots up my leg. I groan, then glance around the patio. There are heaters out here around the hot tub, so I’m not cold. The wind blows, and I shiver… Okay, scratch that. I won’t freeze, but damn, if I am standing around here waiting for that bastard to come back and get me.

I stalk past the tub, jump down onto the grass. I walk around the side. Ha, he’s going to keep me out the house, is he? Not if I can help it. I break into a sprint, jog up the field surrounding the house, around to the front. Reaching the door, I find it…closed.Bugger.I try the door handle, and it’s locked. I throw up my fists, ready to punch my way through…? As if that would help… Think… Think… What can I do…? I walk down the steps, get back into the car…search for my phone. Shit. My handbag—I left it inside the bloody house, along with my chef's satchel.Argh!

I slam my palm on the steering wheel, and the horn blares. Hell. I press down on the horn a little longer. I’d left the keys in the ignition… So, at least, I am mobile, but without my phone and my wallet... Hell, even if I went out into the village… which is a 45-minute drive away, I couldn’t do much. Damn it, I can’t even call anyone for help.

Ugh!I grip the steering wheel, take a deep breath, then another.Don’t lose it. You can think it through.He isn’t going to leave me out… Nah! He wouldn’t…would he? Damn it. It would be just like that reprobate who has chocolate tarts for brains to do something exactly so…assholish.Argh!Anger ladders up my spine. I swipe my wet hair out of my eyes… Great. Here I am, soaking wet, with no dry clothes in sight… Uhm, no, I do have my suitcase where I left it outside. There’s a distinct boom, then drops of water drizzle down. Shit. That doesn’t help. No way am I going to get soaked all over again. I snatch up the keys, step out of the car and lock it. Then run over to my suitcase… I drag it up the steps to the front entryway, and place it against the wall.

The retrace my path down the steps, then around to the back porch.

The wind blows. I shiver and step closer to the warmth emanating from the tub. Hmm. Should I? I glance around for the controls, spot a switch. When I throw it, the bubbles begin to churn in the tub. I dip my hand, and yep, the water’s warm. I turn the dial further toward the red. With the rain smattering outside and the floor patio heaters going full force… Well, it is not too bad. But that doesn’t get me inside the cabin. I hear scratching at the door—Max trying to get out again.

Okay, I’m not going to stand around here, as if waiting for him… I am going to… I grab the hem of my blouse, pull it off. I hear Weston talking to Max, then the sound of the door being unlocked. I strip out of my jeans. The door begins to open. I race toward the tub, jump inside, unhooking my bra at the same time.

6

Weston

What the—? What the hell is she up to now?

I walk out of the door and onto the patio in time to watch her sink into the hot tub. There’s a flash of pink, then she holds up her bra… something slinky and made of scraps of nylon. My jaw drops and my belly hardens. She can’t be doing what I think she is. She can’t be undressed…and turning the tables on me…can she?

I’d fed the mutt…then proceeded to take a cold shower…before pulling out clothes. When I could delay no longer, I’d walked out. Okay, also because I was curious. The last thing I’d expected was for her to reverse engineer the scene I’d played out for her earlier.