Gingerly he picked them up and placed them on the corner chair. She’d no doubt be upset to realise she’d dropped them. Especially the silky peach-coloured panties. He rubbed the fabric between his thumb and forefinger and his body reacted like a devoted dog that had just seen its master return after a year-long absence.

‘Not tonight, Josephine,’ he muttered, heading for the shower.

A cold one.

Cruz rubbed his rough jaw and picked up his razor. Unbidden, Charles Carmichael’s rangy features came to his mind. Initially he had admired his determination and objectivity. His loyalty. Only those traits hadn’t stacked up in the end. The man had been ruthless more than determined, cold rather than objective, and his loyalty had been prejudiced towards his own kind.

Had he degenerated into that person? Had he become a hollow version of the man he’d thought he was? He stopped shaving and stared at the remaining cream on his face. Why did his life suddenly feel so empty? So superficial?

Hold on. His life wasn’t empty or superficial. He barked out a short laugh. He had everything a man could want. Money. Power. Women. Respect.

His razor nicked the delicate skin just under his jaw.

Respect.

He didn’t have everyone’s respect. He didn’t have Aspen’s. And he didn’t have his own right now, either.

He thought again about the night Aspen had set him up. He supposed he could have defended himself against Carmichael’s prejudiced accusations and changed the course of his life, but something in Aspen’s eyes that night had stayed him. Fear? Devastation? Embarrassment? He’d never asked. He’d just felt angry and bitter that she had stolen his future.

Only she hadn’t, had she? He’d disowned it. He’d thrown it all in. Nobody made a fool of a Rodriguez—wasn’t that what his padre would have said?

He took a deep steadying breath, flexed his shoulders and heard his neck crack back into place.

So, okay, in the morning he would tell Aspen to go home. He wouldn’t sleep with her in exchange for the money. She could have it. But she still wasn’t getting The Farm. He wanted it, and what he wanted he got.

End of story.

CHAPTER SEVEN

WHEN SHE WOKE the next morning and decided she really couldn’t hang out in her room all day Aspen ventured out into the living area of Cruz’s luxury penthouse and breathed a sigh of relief to find it empty. Empty bar the lingering traces of his mouth-watering aftershave, that was.

After making sure that he really had gone she sucked in a grateful breath, so on edge she nearly jumped out of her skin when the phone in her hand buzzed with an incoming text.

Make yourself comfortable and charge whatever you want to the room. We’ll talk tonight.

‘About a ticket home?’ she mused aloud.

The disaster of the previous night winged into her thoughts like a homing pigeon.

In the back of her mind Aspen had imagined that they would try to have sex, she would freeze, Cruz might or might not laugh, and Aspen would return home. Then she would get on with her life and never think of him again.

Only nothing was normal with Cruz. Not her inability to hate him for his ruthlessness or her physical reaction to him. Because while she had been in his arms last night she had forgotten to be worried. She’d been unable to do anything but feel, and his touch had felt amazing. So amazing that she’d mistakenly believed it might work. That this time she would be okay. Then she’d panicked and he’d stopped. And she really didn’t want to analyse why that was.

‘Urgh.’ She blew out a breath. ‘You weren’t going to replay that train wreck again, remember?’

Right.

Determinedly she dropped her phone into her handbag and poured herself a steaming cup of coffee from the silver tray set on the mahogany dining table.

There was an array of gleaming dome-covered plates, and as she lifted each one in turn she wondered if Cruz had ordered the entire menu for breakfast and then realised that he wasn’t hungry. Her own stomach signalled that she was ravenous and Aspen placed scrambled eggs and bacon on a plate and tucked in.

Unsure what do with herself, she checked in with Donny and Mrs Randall and then decided to do some studying. She was doing a double load at university next semester, so she could qualify by the end of the year, and she needed to get her head around the coursework before assignments started rolling in.

But she couldn’t concentrate.

A horse whinnied in the distance and another answered.

Tags: Michelle Conder Billionaire Romance
Source: readsnovelonline.net