Stranded for One Scandalous Week - Natalie Anderson Page 0,1

Ash Castle eye-wateringly rich, he was also appallingly good-looking.

Confronted by the reality, not a decades-old photo, Merle was stupefied. Tall, dazzling, devastating. She stared slack-jawed and wide-eyed at his long, muscular lines and stunningly sculpted face. She knew he also had that other irresistible-to-many facet to his nature—he was reckless. That was catnip to lots of women, wasn’t it? They wanted to dance with danger, attempt to tame the untameable, bring the rich, ravishing, reckless playboy to heel...

But not Merle. She couldn’t think of a worse combination.

She was sure his money, privilege and good looks meant it was too easy for him to get everything and everyone he wanted. That led to lazy arrogance and entitlement that meant the usual boundaries were ignored. She knew those sorts of men well. She’d been burned by one in her youth and she’d successfully avoided all of them since. Until now, when she was confronted with the worst of them all.

‘Sweetheart?’ Ash’s gaze narrowed slightly.

Belatedly Merle realised she was up on her knees and, while there were masses of bubbles in the enormous bath, there weren’t enough to cover her completely. Her breasts were exposed and quite possibly her...

She splashed down into the water so quickly she almost slipped right under. Desperately she threw her arms out to clutch the sides while drawing her knees up defensively at the same time. Another deep breath later, she wiped away the blob of frothy bubbles she could feel sliding down the side of her face.

Of all the people to have arrived unexpectedly. Of all the times. Of all the shocks.

And she couldn’t stop staring. His dark grey tee hugged his broad shoulders and clung to the hard planes of his chest, while his black jeans emphasised the length and strength of his legs. They were faded in the thigh area, the paler patches drawing her eye to the core of his masculinity. She snapped her gaze from his slim hips back up past his broad shoulders, but his face only added to that impression of absolute masculinity. The shadow on his jaw highlighted its sharp, angular line. Beneath his straight nose, his sensually full lips curved into a weary but appreciative smile. And then there were those mesmerising eyes—a warm brown with an almost leonine hint in the amber. Everything about him screamed virile male. And the truly horrific thing was that her body—her weak, treacherous body—seemed to want nothing more than to melt in a purely sexual reaction. It was a primal, utterly basic response that was so new, so surprising, she couldn’t pull her scattered thoughts together enough to scream at him to get out of there.

‘Why are you here?’ he asked negligently, still leaning against the doorjamb, apparently unfazed by her nudity and her panicked slide back into the water.

Of course he wasn’t bothered. He was well used to women baring all around him.

Merle burned, mortified. That should be her question. But she wasn’t great at speaking up, even when necessary. The truth was Leo Castle—Ash’s half-brother and the man who’d confirmed her contract here—had said she’d have the place to herself, that she could take six weeks or more on the project if necessary. The prospect of having a home for that long had been incredible. She desperately needed to recover her affairs. She had no regrets about going into debt for her grandfather’s health, but now that he was gone she had to claw her way out of the deep financial hole she’d been left in.

‘Did someone send you, Miss...?’

Merle stiffened, perceiving slight insolence in his tone and finally found her voice. ‘Leo Castle—’

‘Leo hired you?’ Ashton Castle’s eyebrows rose, as if he was surprised. ‘How did he know I was coming?’ He looked perplexed as he muttered, apparently to himself, ‘But he knows I don’t do prostitutes.’

Merle sat stupefied all over again, suddenly unable to feel whether the water was hot or cold because everything had gone numb. Had he just said prostitutes?

Her heart pounded. Did he think she’d been hired to entertain him? That she was waiting naked in this bath with this champagne, ready to...to please him? A humiliation bomb exploded—bursting every one of her happy bubbles that’d been fizzing only five minutes before. And then a cloud of something else rose inside—something sinful and hot and that she couldn’t bear to define.

‘I think there’s been a mistake,’ she choked, so awash with embarrassment she was unable to continue.

‘Yeah.’ He strolled nearer and picked up the bottle