Holiday with a Stranger. Christy McKellen

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Holiday with a Stranger - Christy McKellen Mills & Boon Modern Tempted

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the explosion he was obviously picturing in his mind.

      ‘You’re funny. You know that? You’re a very funny man.’

      ‘I’m right, though, aren’t I? I bet you can’t stand to be without it for one day.’

      ‘Don’t be ridiculous. Of course I can.’ She ignored the stutter in her heartbeat and leant back in the chair, gazing up at the slow-moving clouds above her. Her body was drenched in sweat. Had a heat wave descended?

      Connor just grunt-laughed in response.

      She chose to ignore him.

      ‘Can’t somebody else write your document?’

      After pausing, she chose her answer carefully. ‘They’re working on it at the moment, but I’m the one who has the most experience in writing these things.’

      ‘So you don’t trust anyone else to do the job?’

      Sighing, she put her fingers together, tip to tip, and waited for the irritation to subside. ‘If I don’t work on it now I’m going to have to do it when I get back—edit what the team’s done, that is—which will only allow minimal time to get it up to scratch before the deadline.’

      ‘And you’re sure they won’t be able to handle it without you?’

      ‘Based on experience—no.’

      He nodded slowly, looking at her intently as if waiting for something more.

      ‘Why are you looking at me like that?’

      ‘Like what?’ He was all innocence.

      ‘You don’t believe me?’

      He shrugged. ‘I’m not saying that. I was just wondering why you hired your staff if you don’t trust them to do their jobs properly.’

      She really didn’t want to be talking about this. She was hyper-aware of the underlying panic, humming just below the surface, which she’d been struggling to suppress for weeks.

      ‘We can’t afford to get anything wrong right now. It’s a tough marketplace.’ She hoped the brusqueness of her tone would stop him asking any more about it.

      ‘So it’s all work and no play for you, right?’

      His expression was neutral. She couldn’t tell whether he was teasing her.

      Either way, Josie felt her blood begin to boil. How dare he? He didn’t even know her. He had no right to make judgements on her like that. She’d come across these disparaging attitudes to women in high-powered jobs so frequently that hers was a natural response by now.

      She glared at him, her eyes narrowed. ‘Just because I work hard—and prefer not to loaf around the world on someone else’s dime,’ she added pointedly, ‘it doesn’t make me some hard-nosed bore. I happen to be very well respected....’ She petered out as the truth of her situation came flooding back to her.

      He looked at her with his eyebrows raised. ‘I’ve heard all this before. The crazy working schedule. The inability to live outside of work. One holiday every three years...’

      Josie squirmed at this.

      ‘...the ever-diminishing social life.’ He broke off to take a sip of his drink. ‘Is it really worth it?’

      Was he serious? She still couldn’t tell. ‘Of course it’s worth it,’ she said as calmly as she could. ‘Anyway, it’s nothing like that.’ She flapped a hand at him, but the tension in her muscles made the action jerky and over-exaggerated.

      Connor looked sceptical. ‘What makes it so worthwhile? Hmm? What are the benefits?’

      Josie had no idea how to answer this. She had no desire to talk about what it was that drove her so hard. Not with him. Besides, she’d been doing it for so long it had become part of who she was, who she’d always been and who she always would be.

      ‘It’s about a sense of achievement. Making something great out of your life. Being respected and...and...’

      She realised she was gesturing wildly at him again, like some kind of madwoman, but he’d got her blood up. She was angry at his insinuation that she was somehow making a mistake with her life choices. This was what she’d always wanted. What else could there be?

      ‘It makes me happy,’ she finished, picking up her drink and taking a long sip to cover her frustration.

      ‘All right. I was only asking.’ He held up his hands to her in mock surrender, a smile playing about his lips.

      ‘What makes you such an expert anyway?’ She straightened herself up on her lounger and felt her dress pull downwards, exposing more flesh than she was comfortable with. She adjusted the top hastily, then tugged the skirt back down from where it had ridden up.

      Their eyes met and the air crackled between them.

      ‘Like I say, I’ve seen it all before.’

      His voice was low and ragged and sent chills tripping along her spine. Her head spun as she drank in his penetrating gaze.

      This time it was Connor who broke eye contact first. He lay back in the recliner and gazed up at the sky, closing the subject and the unnerving connection.

      Josie twisted away, lips clamped tight. What had all that been about? Maybe it had just been a fun game for him, to tease and anger her. To see how far he could push her before she snapped. Her sense of frustration increased and she had to consciously release her hands from their rigor mortis clench.

      This guy was something else. He knew instinctively how to push her buttons. Well, she wasn’t going to let him do it again, that was for sure.

      Dumping her notebook and pen on the table, she forced herself to focus on relaxing into holiday mode to show him she was capable of doing it.

      ‘You know, you really should put some suntan lotion on. That pale skin of yours is going to fry in this heat. You townies have no idea how to live in the sun.’

      He was looking back over at her again. There wasn’t a trace of the intensity that had been there a moment ago. Josie was almost relieved. At least she could deal with him when he was being overtly officious.

      ‘There’s some in the kitchen cupboard,’ he added, turning away from her.

      Again, his suggestion felt more like an order, but she knew he was right.

      ‘I need to do something inside anyway,’ she said, rising from the lounger and sauntering inside, determined to get her own back.

      In the bathroom she took out all the products she’d been storing neatly in her washbag and scattered them around the sink and the edge of the bath, giving her emergency box of tampons pride of place on top of the toilet. After brushing her teeth again, she made sure to leave a good covering of toothpaste scum in the sink. Satisfied with the results, she returned to the kitchen, pulling her now clean clothes out of the washer and draping them all around the room. Her knickers and bra she hung right over the handle of the oven.

      That

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