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Snowed in with the Billionaire. Caroline AndersonЧитать онлайн книгу.

Snowed in with the Billionaire - Caroline  Anderson


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after that first time, and every time he’d found her, he’d kissed her.

      She remembered it vividly, so vividly, and she could feel her cheeks burning up.

      ‘Apparently not,’ she said, and got hastily to her feet, brushing the non-existent dust from her jeans, ridiculously flustered. ‘Um—I could probably do with changing his nappy. Where did you put our bags?’

      ‘In your room. It’s the one at the end of the landing on the right—do you want me to show you?’

      ‘That might be an idea.’

      Not because she needed showing, but because she didn’t want to be tempted to stray into his room. He would have the master suite in the middle at the front, overlooking the carriage sweep, and the stairs came up right beside it.

      Too tempting.

      She called Josh, took his hand in hers and followed Sebastian up the elegant Georgian staircase and resolutely past the slightly open door of the bedroom where she’d given him her body—and her heart...

      * * *

      Why on earth had he brought up the past when she’d mentioned hide and seek?

      Idiot, he chided himself. He’d already had to leave the kitchen on the pretext of putting the cars away when she’d taken her coat off and he’d seen the lush, feminine curves that motherhood had given her.

      She’d always had curves, but they were rounder now, softer somehow, utterly unlike the scrawny beanpoles he normally came into contact with, and he ached to touch her, to mould the soft fullness, to cradle the smooth swell of her bottom in his hand and ease her closer.

      Much closer.

      So much closer that he’d had to get out of the kitchen and give himself a moment.

      Now he realised it was going to take a miracle, not a moment, because when he’d run out of things to do he’d walked back in to the sight of that rounded bottom sticking up into the air as she played under the table with the baby, and then she’d straightened, her cheeks still pink from bending over, and he’d seen straight down the V neck of her sweater to the enticing valley between those soft, rounded breasts and lust had hit him like a sledgehammer.

      ‘Here,’ he said, pushing open the door of her room. ‘It’s got its own bathroom, but I haven’t put up the travel cot, I’m afraid. I wouldn’t know where to start—is that OK? Can you manage?’

      ‘Oh. Yes. That’s fine. Um—I don’t suppose you’ve got a small blanket—a fleecy one or something? And a sheet? I don’t have any bedding with me because my mother keeps some at hers.’

      ‘I’m sure I can find something. I’ll see you in the kitchen when you’re done,’ he said, and left them to it.

      She looked around at the lovely room, beautifully furnished with antiques, and wondered who’d sourced everything. Him? It seemed unlikely. He’d probably paid an interior designer an obscene amount of money to do it, but that was fine, he had it.

      He’d been outrageously successful, by all accounts, made a killing on the stock market in the early days and re-invested the money in other businesses. He had a reputation for being fair but firm, and companies that he’d taken over had been turned around and sold for vast amounts, or retained in his portfolio to earn him a nice little income.

      Not that she’d been keeping tabs on him...

      She sighed. ‘Come here, Josh. Let’s do your nappy.’

      But Josh was exploring, investigating the utterly decadent bathroom with its free-standing white-enamelled bateau bath, the vintage loo with ornate high level cistern and gleaming brass downpipe, the vintage china basin set on an old marble-topped washstand painted the same soft grey as the kitchen and the outside of the bath. There was a rack piled high with sumptuous, fluffy white towels, and expensive toiletries stood on the side of the washstand.

      Gorgeous. Utterly, utterly gorgeous. She eyed the bath longingly. Maybe later.

      ‘Come on, tinker. Let’s change you.’

      But he ran off, giggling, and she had to chase him and catch him and pin him down, squirming like an eel and brimming with mischief. No wonder she didn’t need the gym! Even if she had time, which she didn’t. She hitched his trousers back up victoriously, mission accomplished, and grinned at him.

      ‘Right, let’s go back downstairs and have that tea, shall we?’

      And see Sebastian again.

      She bit her lip. He was being polite but distant, and she told herself it was what she wanted. Well, of course it was.

      Except apparently her heart didn’t think so, and a tiny corner of it was disappointed that he hadn’t seemed pleased to see her. Well, what had she expected? She’d dumped him because he was too ambitious, too driven, too different from the boy she’d fallen in love with four years earlier, and he hadn’t even tried to understand how she’d felt.

      She obviously hadn’t been that important to him then, and she certainly wouldn’t be now, toting another man’s child.

      She rounded Josh up, took his hand and led him towards the stairs, but then he slipped out of her grasp and ran through a doorway.

      The doorway to the master bedroom, she realised, and her heart sank.

      ‘Josh? Come out. That’s not our room.’

      Silence.

      Which left her no choice but to go in...

      She pushed the door open and looked around, and the first thing she saw was the bed, huge, beautiful, piled high with snowy white linen and taking her breath away. To be fair, it would have been hard to miss even in such a large room, but it dominated the space, leaping out of her fantasies and taunting her with its perfection, and she felt her cheeks burn.

      She dragged her eyes away from it and looked around.

      There was no sign of Josh—but the cupboard was there in the corner, the cupboard where she’d hidden, where Sebastian had found her and kissed her the first time.

      And there, in front of the fireplace, was where he’d spread the blanket covered in petals and—

      ‘Mummy, find me!’

      She pressed a hand to her chest and sucked in a slow, steadying breath. What on earth was she doing? Why was she there? She shouldn’t be here, in this room, in this house, with this man!

      With her memories running riot—

      ‘Mummy!’

      She let out her breath, drew it in again and pinned a smile on her face, because he could always tell if she was smiling.

      ‘Ready or not, here I come,’ she sang, and heard the words echo down the years, ringing in the empty corridors as she’d hidden in the cupboard and held back her innocent, girlish laughter.

      And then he’d kissed her and everything had changed...

      CHAPTER THREE

      THEY WERE TAKING AGES.

      Maybe she’d decided to unpack, or bath Josh, or perhaps she was lost.

      He gave a soft snort. As if. She knew the house like the back of her hand. More likely she was exploring, giving herself a guided tour. She’d always considered the house to be her own private property. The concept of trespass never seemed to occur to her.

      He went to look for her, taking the soft woollen throw he’d found for Josh’s bed, and saw his bedroom door standing wide open and voices coming from inside.

      ‘Josh, now! Come out from under there this minute or I’m going downstairs without you.’

      Irritated, he walked in and was greeted yet again by that delectable bottom sticking up in the air. Was she doing it on purpose? He dragged his


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