Holiday with the Millionaire Read online

  He could feel adrenaline surging within him, closely followed by a red mist descending. Just like he had the night he’d punched out Caleb. Was it any wonder Addison didn’t like him? He flinched. He didn’t want to be that guy any more. He was trying not to be that guy any more.

  He released his grip on the guy and looked at him in disgust. ‘You two deserve each other. Lara’s worth ten of you.’

  He turned on his heel, ignoring the shouts that followed him. The guy made him mad. The girl made him mad. Their utter disrespect of Lara made him mad. How had she ended mixed up with these two?

  He strode back to the car, jumped inside and slammed the door, not thinking for a second about what he was going to say to her.

  Her eyes widened at the expression on his face and she stared at his empty hands. ‘Didn’t you get my stuff?’

  It was the wide-eyed innocence that made his stomach curl in knots. On a few fleeting moments Lara had appeared quite street savvy, but right now? He felt as if he were just about to grab her heart between both hands and squeeze hard.

  She’d already told him she’d saved hard for her dream holiday—and from what he’d seen he could take a guess that the guy upstairs hadn’t contributed at all. Just how much would it cost her to replace her entire summer holiday wardrobe?

  ‘I’m picking your stuff up later,’ he said quickly.

  He turned the car onto the main road. ‘Now, let’s go and food shop.’

  * * *

  She wasn’t quite sure when the house burglar turned into her kind of guardian angel. All she knew was thirty minutes after telling her they’d pick up her clothes later he pulled his sleek car up outside one of the most famous department stores in London with its gold and green sign.

  Reuben walked around and opened the door for her. Her head flicked from side to side. ‘You can’t leave your car here...’

  Her voice trailed off as a uniformed man slid into the driver’s seat and the car mysteriously disappeared.

  He smiled at the expression on her face and gestured towards the door. ‘Let’s hit the food court. We need to buy supplies.’

  She watched the dark red car disappear around the corner, shaking her head as he slung his arm back around her shoulders and steered her towards the entrance. ‘I didn’t even know they did that,’ she murmured.

  ‘What can I say? I’ve friends in high places.’

  What on earth did that mean? She looked down at her clothes. Jeans and a pink t-shirt. And come to think of it her boots could do with a polish. If she’d known they were shopping in style she might have dressed up a little.

  They walked down the stairs to the food court. Even two steps down the aroma of everything expensive came up to meet them.

  Reuben was smiling already, crossing over to the glass display cabinet of fine meats and truffles and foie gras.

  ‘What do you like?’ he asked.

  She wrinkled her nose. ‘Chicken.’

  He raised his eyebrows. ‘Chicken?’ You’d think she’d sworn out loud.

  She nodded. ‘Chicken. I like chicken.’

  She looked around at the massive department.

  ‘And raspberry jam. And freshly baked bread—maybe a croissant or two. And some more bacon and eggs.’

  Her legs had started walking, following her nose as she glanced from side to side.

  ‘I love the chocolate digestives from here, and the rose and violet shortbread— Oh...’ She spun round and put her hand on his chest. ‘And those tiny dark chocolates filled with orange. Now, where on earth will they be?’

  He put one hand on his hip as people filed past. ‘We’re in one of the finest food stores and you want bacon. And eggs. And raspberry jam.’ His chest was right in front of her nose and now every time she breathed in she didn’t get the wonderful food aromas around her, she just got Reuben Tyler. Every masculine, woody scent of him. If she could sell that aftershave she’d never have to work again.

  She breathed in, trying not to look like a teenager. Her hand was still resting on his chest. Through his thin T-shirt she could feel the warmth of his skin and the roughened hairs underneath the palm of her hand. Her brain tried to make sense of things.

  This time yesterday she hadn’t known this man. She hadn’t even known he existed.

  ‘Chicken.’ The word came out of nowhere. ‘You forgot the chicken.’

  She tilted her head and smiled up at him. Her nose was directly across from his chest. Too close for comfort really. Especially now she could see the tiny shadow along his jaw line. Why did her hand want to reach up and touch it?

  His arm folded around her waist and he pulled her closer and spun her around as a large group of tourists swept past. He was looking down at her with those deep brown eyes. It was almost as if he knew she was a little mesmerised. Truth was, he must be used to it.

  ‘Didn’t want you to get trampled.’ He laughed as his accent played havoc with her senses. ‘And chicken.’ He shook his head again. ‘Let’s not forget the chicken.’

  He reached behind her, his chin brushing against her hair, and plucked a thin cylindrical box from a stand. ‘Your orange creams, I suppose?’

  She closed her hands around the tube. ‘Perfect.’

  He paused. It was almost as if something else flitted past his brain. He was leaning over her, seeing every part of her up close and personal. If he tilted his chin down just a touch...

  She wished she’d put on more make-up—heavier foundation instead of her usual tinted moisturiser. Longer-lasting lipstick rather than her light lip tint.

  She could almost feel herself disintegrate under his gaze. What did he see? And how did she compare to what he was used to?

  She tried to squeeze that thought from her mind. Why should she care? She barely knew him. So what if he’d just gone out of his way to help her? The truth was he was still invading the space she’d thought she would have for the next two weeks. Her skin was prickling under his intense gaze. There was a whole wave of sensations sweeping across her. And she couldn’t fathom any one of them.

  Reuben gave a little shake and stepped back. It was almost as if nothing had happened. He pulled up a trolley next to them and started loading up his selection from the counter. He pointed to item after item and she blinked at the price tags. Chicken stuffed with haggis and wrapped in bacon. Chicken with chorizo and a tomato sauce. Chicken with peppered sauce and mushrooms all packaged up before her eyes. If she hadn’t been hungry before she was definitely hungry now.

  And it seemed once Reuben started to shop he could do it like a pro. Sirloin steaks—enough to last the fortnight. More pepper sauce. Salad. Fresh bread, pastries and croissants. Her raspberry jam. Bacon, eggs and sausages. A whole heap of vegetables. Biscuits, chocolates and a really, really good-looking fresh cream gateau.

  Lara looked at the groaning trolley and nudged him.

  ‘What?’ he asked.

  ‘I don’t think people really do their weekly shop in here,’ she whispered, her eyes taking in the other customers, who had maybe one or two items in their hands. ‘At this rate we’ll need to remortgage Caleb’s house for the food bill.’

  He looked surprised. ‘I’m covering the food bill. Don’t worry. You didn’t expect me there and I should contribute something.’

  He made it all sound so reasonable, while her purse was currently screaming out in relief. There was no way she could pay half of a bill like this. ‘Fancy a bottle of wine?’ he asked, as they walked further along.

  She glanced at the nearest shelf. Two hundred pounds a bottle. ‘Er...no, thanks.’

  He moved the trolley forward then stopped again. ‘It was rosé you were drinking last night, wasn’t it?’

  He put three bottles in the trolley before she had a chance to answer, then he picked a bottle of red and one
of white too. She could feel herself breaking out in a cold sweat at these prices. It didn’t matter that she wasn’t footing the bill.

  She leaned forward and hissed in his ear, ‘Put those back. You can buy wine for less than ten pounds a bottle in the supermarket down the road.’

  The corners of his lips turned up in amusement. He walked over to the nearest cash register and handed over his credit card without anything being run up. The cashier nodded, swiped it and handed it back, taking a note of the ticket for his car.

  He slipped an arm around her back and led her to the stairs. Lara’s head was turned backwards, staring at the cashier. ‘Really? You don’t even put in your PIN?’

  He shook his head. ‘I trust these people. By the time we want to leave the car will be loaded up and ready to go.’

  She shook her head as she climbed the stairs. The jewellery section was right in front of them. ‘Let’s go upstairs for a coffee. Food shopping makes me hungry.’ Now, that she could agree with.

  She wandered through the jewellery department—most of the jewellery didn’t have price tags, which told her everything she needed to know. While she didn’t know how much things actually cost, she could just do her little-girl-in-a-shop state of mind and pretend that they could all be hers.

  She stopped suddenly and Reuben walked right into her. She hadn’t realised he was so close. ‘Sorry,’ she murmured.

  He followed her eyeline to the side and pointed. ‘You’re looking at that?’ His face was screwed up in that a-guy-will-never-understand kind of way.

  She nodded. ‘It’s gorgeous. It’s like something Cleopatra would wear.’ She moved a little closer but resisted the temptation to touch the glass. Interlocked flat panels of white, yellow and rose gold. One of the fashion magazines would probably describe it as a showstopper. And it was.

  She moved further along and stopped and pointed at a large square-cut pink diamond surrounded by white diamonds. She was too scared to even breathe next to it. ‘Bet we’d really need to remortgage Caleb’s house for that.’

  Reuben shook his head and steered her towards the lift. The smell of coffee hit them as soon as the lift doors opened, in perfect timing with a loud growl from Reuben’s stomach.

  She laughed. ‘Trying to tell me something?’

  He nodded. ‘My body is telling you that it’s crying out for another bacon sandwich.’ He pointed to the glass-fronted cabinet filled with tiny cakes. ‘But that’s not what you get here.’

  She turned to face him. ‘Did you want to go somewhere else?’ She got the distinct impression he’d brought her here because he’d thought she’d prefer it. On most days she would be happy with a cup of tea in a local café. Why did she get the impression he was trying to keep on her good side?

  He shook his head. ‘The coffee is great in here. Makes up for the lack of bacon. What are you having?’

  She stared at the board as the barista approached them. ‘I’ll have a skinny, sugar-free caramel latte,’ she said.

  ‘What?’ He wrinkled his nose as the barista waved her hand.

  ‘I’ve got it,’ she said, as she turned to the large metal machine. ‘Triple shot for you, Reuben?’

  He nodded then turned back to Lara. ‘Didn’t take you for one of those mumbo-jumbo crazy coffee girls. Not after the amount of chocolate you consumed last night.’

  She slapped his arm. ‘Hey. Anyway, there’s method in my madness. The skinny sugar-free counteracts the fact I’m going to have four of those little cakes.’ She was feeling quite pleased with herself. The only problem would be choosing. She walked up and down the counter, trying to decide.

  ‘Only four?’ came the deep voice, right next to her ear.

  She jumped. ‘Stop it.’ And turned back to the counter. The barista had finished preparing the coffees and placed them on a tray. She must be able to read minds because she was standing with an empty plate and a pair of tongs in her hand.

  ‘A rhubarb and custard tart, a death by chocolate, a strawberry and vanilla pastry and a pecan pie.’ The words were out before she could stop them and Reuben let out a muffled laugh behind her.

  He pointed in the other direction. ‘I’ll have a piece of apple pie,’ he said, before leaning over towards her ear again. ‘Man-sized.’

  Her head shot around and she felt heat sear into her cheeks. It was ridiculous. He was only winding her up. There was even a dangerous twinkle in his eyes.

  She went into her bag to find her purse but he waved her away. ‘You just bought the shopping. You’ve got to let me pay for something.’

  ‘We’ll talk about it later.’ She sighed and made her way over to a table, pulling out one of comfortable velvet chairs and sitting down.

  Reuben sat down opposite her and put the tray of coffee and plates on the tables.

  She pointed at his apple pie, which was obliterated from view with cream. ‘Would you like some apple pie to go with your cream?’

  He picked up his fork and speared the pie. ‘You can talk. At least I’ve only got one instead of four.’

  She picked up her tiny pecan pie. ‘It’s ridiculous calling this thing a pie. Look, it’s barely bigger than my thumbnail. One bite and it’ll be gone. Two if I nibble.’ She eyed his plate again and couldn’t hide her smile. ‘You, on the other hand, could sink to the bottom of the Thames eating that lot.’

  He shook his head and kept eating. There was something nice about this. Something easy. After yesterday morning she’d thought the next month would be an absolute disaster. She could write a book on the last twenty-four hours alone.

  But being around Reuben Tyler wasn’t as hard or as uncomfortable as she’d first thought. It didn’t hurt that he was particularly easy on the eye. And that accent...

  She watched him carefully from across the table. She could see a few women giving him a second glance then giving her a second glance too.

  He may not be a footballer but he looked like the kind of guy who’d have a WAG hanging around him and there was no way she fitted the bill.

  ‘So what did you plan to do for the next two weeks?’ He’d finished demolishing his pie.

  She shrugged her shoulders. ‘I was just going to hang out with Josh, preparing for our holiday.’ She wrinkled her face. ‘I guess that won’t be happening.’

  Reuben’s dark eyes were fixed on her. ‘Do you want that to happen?’

  ‘What? No, of course not. Not after what I saw yesterday.’ She shuddered. ‘It’s going to take a long time to get that sight out of my mind.’

  He was still watching. ‘You sounded as if you were a bit sorry.’

  She took a sip of her latte. ‘About Josh?’ It was hard to find the words. ‘Part of me is, and part of me isn’t.’ She picked up her spoon and started stirring her latte. It was an unconscious act, keeping her eyes away from his penetrating gaze. ‘I guess I’ve been looking forward to the holiday for so long that I just pushed the other stuff away.’

  ‘What other stuff?’

  Her insides started to squirm. It was bad enough having to think these thoughts to herself. They’d definitely come to fruition last night. But saying them out loud? That was something else entirely.

  She kept stirring as the swirling coffee was easy to focus on. ‘Probably the fact that Josh hadn’t paid for any of the holiday. Hadn’t paid rent since we moved in together after we got back from Oz, and didn’t seem particularly bothered about finding a job. He was just happy that I was working and paying the bills.’

  Her fingers clenched around the long spoon. ‘Now I just think what an idiot I was. Out working while he was at home, doing goodness knows what.’

  His hand reached across the table and covered hers. ‘Don’t put yourself down, Lara. You’re a gorgeous girl who just got stuck with a loser. Lesson learned. Move on.’

  She g
ulped. All of a sudden her mouth was dry and the rhubarb and custard tart had just stuck midway down her throat. It was his hand. The way it just enveloped hers. The warmth. That little touch of compassion.

  After the rubbish day she’d had yesterday, she hadn’t really expected anyone to reach out to her. To make her feel valued again.

  It gave her a warm feeling. The kind that had always spread over her when she used to be around her gran. Her parents had been great, but she’d always had a special connection with her gran. She’d encouraged her studies in English and had been so proud of her when she’d been accepted at university. But when her gran had died one month later it had all been too much for her. Her mum and dad loved her lots—but had never had the same ambitions for her that her gran had. She’d needed some time away—some space. She’d deferred her university placement and drifted from one bad job and bad relationship to the next, finally ending up in Australia then back here.

  Tears were brimming in her eyes. Thank goodness Reuben hadn’t noticed. Was he getting a tiny pulse shooting up his arm too?

  He gave her hand another squeeze and went back to his coffee. Obviously not.

  She was an idiot.

  It was almost as if he could read part of her mind. See that she was trying to hide the parts of her that were hurt. His tongue ran along his lips, catching some of the sugar from the apple tart, and she swallowed, trying not to stare.

  ‘Caleb’s been good for me.’ It was as if he chose the words carefully.

  She was curious. ‘How?’

  He pressed his lips together. ‘He keeps me focused. Keeps me grounded. Addison might not like me much, but when I go to their house and see Caleb with his son...’ His voice tailed off and he gave a little shrug, ‘It makes me see what a family should be like. I don’t doubt for a second Caleb would give his life for his wife or his son in a heartbeat. They’re his whole world.’

  There was something about the way he said the words that sent a little prickle down her spine. She didn’t doubt for a second her mum and dad would do the same thing for her. Reuben hadn’t mentioned his family at all. ‘Aren’t all families like that?’ she asked carefully.