Billionaire Novelist's Fiery Debutante (4 page)

“I think it’s great,” he mumbled. “Just swell.”

And without another word, he stalked off, leaving her to stare after him. She had that surprised look in her eyes he’d seen before. Actually, he’d surprised himself. He didn’t want to have dinner with her, did he? He didn’t want to see her any more than he had to, right? Of course not! Then why was he feeling so disappointed all of a sudden?

He didn’t know, and he didn’t care. Yanking open the fridge, he picked the first container that presented itself, dumped the contents onto a plate and shoved it into the grill. Giving the timer a vicious twist, he folded his arms and leaned against the kitchen counter, his face a thundercloud.

He hadn’t waited ten seconds before she came charging into the kitchen.

“Hey!” she yelled, swinging her arms defiantly. “What’s with you all of a sudden? I’m trying to be all nice and cooperative, and you almost bit my nose!”

“I didn’t bite your nose,” he returned through gritted teeth. And what a lovely nose it was. Each time she was mad, it wrinkled into the cutest little button. Which was, of course, none of his concern.

“You did!” She swung out her hip and placed her hand on it. “Look, Josh. You’re the one who said we should stay out of each other’s way, not me. So why you should get all worked up beats me.”

He waved a hand. “Just go away, will you. I will be alone.”

The words had the effect of gasoline poured on a raging fire. “I won’t go away!” she squeaked, her voice almost inaudible to human ears. “First you apologize to me for—for—for—”

“For what?” he growled.

“For being a pompous prick!” she spat.

He shrugged. “I’m just being me, honey. If you can’t stand it, you can always go back to wherever the hell you came from.”

He was being a dick, and he knew it, but somehow he was madder than hell, and he wanted to take it out on her.

Her nostrils flared, and her head was now so red he thought it might explode at any moment. He even imagined he saw smoke pour from her ears.

Just then, the grill dinged, and he grabbed an oven mitt. “Now I suggest you let me eat in peace, huh? Can you do that for me?”

She sputtered something unintelligible for a moment, then yelled, “Phooey!” and stormed out of the kitchen.

He stared after her, admiring the swing of her hips and the sway of her pert buttocks. Dammit. Only a few hours and already she’d managed to get under his skin. He really had to watch himself. Before he knew it, he’d be falling for the wench, and
then
where would he be?

CHAPTER 8

Chloe was so mad she didn’t even know where she was going. It was only when she’d slammed the bedroom door and thrown herself onto the bed, that she realized where she was.

The man was truly intolerable. He simply did whatever he could to make her life miserable. He hated her if she came near him, and he hated her if she didn’t. And all for the sake of his precious writing. Well, she knew that was a big joke. She’d snuck back into his office to clean up the broken vase shards, and the only noise that had greeted her was a persistent snoring. He’d lain there, sound asleep, and hadn’t even noticed her!

If he was a bestselling writer, she was the first lady. Curious to find out more about him, she’d even checked his laptop. The only thing she saw was an empty page. Three days and he hadn’t even written the first sentence!

She hopped off the bed again, and only now noticed his trunk and clothes were gone. So he’d found her little surprise gift. Perhaps that’s why he was so mad? Mister Super Writer didn’t like it if someone touched his stuff?

“Don’t let him get to you,” she admonished herself. “Don’t let him get under your skin. He’s only out to get back at you for disturbing his precious ‘writing time’.”

She was pacing the room frantically, feeling like a caged animal whose warden is just outside the door. She needed to stretch her legs, needed to get away from that horrible man. She dove into the wardrobe and quickly fished out a pair of jeans shorts and a bright yellow tank top. Slipping the tank top over her bikini, she was reminded of the strange look that had come into Josh’s eyes when he’d first walked up to her just now. At first, he’d actually looked pleased to see her, but that had quickly changed when he saw her munching down her dinner all by herself. Could it be that he’d expected them to share their meals? Surely not.

Then a thought struck her. Maybe he wanted her to cook for him. Yeah, right. That would happen the day hell froze over.

She kicked off her flip-flops and slipped into her sneakers.

Without deigning Josh a look, she stalked through the living room, feeling his eyes burning holes in her back, and without a word stepped onto the terrace, passed by the writing shack and disappeared into the brush.

She had absolutely no idea where she was going, but she was determined to get there, and fast.

It was only when she’d been trudging through the jungle for five minutes, that she realized she was lost. On every side, thick brush was surrounding her. And was that a big, fat spider crawling up her leg? Yikes! She quickly brushed it off and turned back the way she’d come. Which was… which way exactly? Everywhere she turned, bright green fronds blocked her view.

Impossible. She’d seen the beach from the shack, hadn’t she?

She slapped down some of the fronds in an attempt to get a sense of direction, but beyond the leaves there were more leaves. And then more still.

She decided to duck low—same story. Aim high? Nope.

Heaving a shaky sigh, she waved her arms, slapped the fronds aside, and pushed on.

“March on, brave soldier, march on,” she sang in a reedy voice.

And march on, she did, but that didn’t seem to get her anywhere.

Dang. All she’d wanted was a nice little stroll along the beach to clear her head, and here she was trapped in the jungle from hell. And was that another fat spider abseiling down her arm?

“Aaaaaaargh!” she yelled out when the fat hairy thing was joined by two of its even hairier cousins. She flung the trio away, only to find another spider sailing down from the trees above and making a crash landing onto her nose!

“Get off!” she screeched and started flapping around wildly in an attempt to get the nasty beasties to stay away from her.

Unfortunately, they didn’t speak English, for more of them started flopping down all around her. As they landed, they made soft little thuds, their hairy bodies cushioning the fall.

“Heeeeeeeeelp!” she hollered. “Heeeeeeelp!”

Judging from the itching sensation on her neck and cheek, the eight-legged creepy crawlies were very interested in her. Then, suddenly, a voice called out somewhere in her vicinity.

“Chloe! Where are you!”

“Josh! I’m here! Help! I’m being attacked!”

There was a mighty grunting sound, and some sort of hacking motion that swayed the fronds directly in front of her, and then, before her relieved eyes, Josh came into view, wielding a stick with surprising ease.

He leveled one long look at her, then growled, “Follow me,” and started hacking his way in the other direction.

She could still feel dozens of hairy legs crawling all over her body, even sneaking beneath her shirt, and was glad Josh cut a furious pace. She eagerly followed in his footsteps, and when finally the ocean came into view, she could have cried with relief.

Josh took her by the arm and quickly rubbed his hands across her hair, her face…

“Let’s get you out of this,” he muttered, and before she could protest, had slipped her shirt over her head, then flung his hands across her shoulders, her back, her… chest. When his fingers flicked across her breasts, it was as if an electric current shot through her. And this time it wasn’t the spiders but something else entirely. But then he was stripping down her shorts, so she didn’t have time to examine the sensation more closely. Along with the shorts, the remaining spiders were brushed off her legs.

“I think that does it,” he murmured, then stared up into her eyes, and before she knew what was happening, had picked her up from the sandy beach, and was making his way over to the gently lapping surf.

Clasping her arms around his neck, she just had time to yell out, “What are you—” before he raced in, and she was dunked into the water.

When she came up for air, spluttering and splashing, she was met by his grinning face just beside hers.

“I think that took care of that,” he exclaimed, laughing into her eyes.

As a thank you, she hauled off and slapped him as hard as she could across the face.

CHAPTER 9

Josh couldn’t believe she’d slap him after all he’d done for her. He’d practically saved her life out there!

Furious, he swam back to the beach with strong thrusts of his powerful arms, intent on leaving her out here. If she really hated him that much, she could go to hell for all he cared.

“Josh! I’m sorry!” her voice cried out behind him.

He turned back just when a wave crashed into him. He lost his footing and went under, being sucked into the maelstrom of rushing water. Coughing and spluttering, he rose from the waves and shook his head like a weary dog. When he’d finally wiped the brine from his eyes, he couldn’t see Chloe anywhere.

“Chloe?” he called out tentatively. Wheeling around, he searched around for a sign of her. Nothing. “Chloe!” he yelled.

Was she playing games now? Had she ducked down the moment he resurfaced? Or—the sickening thought entered his mind—was it that she couldn’t swim?

As the truth hit home, he dove into the surf once more, making his way over to where he’d left her and searching around in vain for a sign of life. Oh, God. Had he dumped her into the deep only to let her drown? He couldn’t have that on his consciousness! With renewed vigor, he splashed beneath the crashing waves once more, eyes wide open, searching for a sign of Chloe.

Nothing!
 

In a panic, he dove again and again, searching left and right for the woman he’d just saved from the jungle only to deliver her to her watery grave. Then, suddenly, just when he was about to plunge in again, he heard it.

“Yoo-hoo!”

As if stung, he whipped his head around. The sound had come from the beach—the only place he hadn’t cared to look.

“Yoo-hoo! Josh!”

And then he saw it—saw her. She was languidly relaxing on the beach, catching some rays, and giving him a big smile.

“When you’re done playing around, could we go back to the house? All this sun and surf has given me an appetite!”

With an animal cry, he launched himself for the beach, and when he finally emerged, all wet and bothered, it was all he could do not to give her a good thrashing before dumping her ass back into the ocean.

“Didn’t you hear me call your name?” he cried, standing before her like a wide-legged colossus.

“I did, but you seemed to be having so much fun I didn’t want to interrupt you,” she offered, coyly gazing up at him.

With a disgusted snort, he tore his eyes away from her and started up the beach in the direction of the tree line.

“Hey! Wait up!” she yelled, and he could hear her trudge after him.

Without deigning her another look, he marched on. This woman was going to be the death of him.

“I’m sorry, Josh,” she panted, trying to match his long strides with her own short ones. “I guess I was mad at you for being such a dick to me earlier.”

He merely grunted something under his breath and kept on walking.

Trotting beside him like a hobbit trying to keep up with a giant, she argued, “You have to admit you were being a dick. Though saving my life from those horrible spiders did much to make up for your behavior. You’ve redeemed yourself. A little. Just a little bit.”

“Grmph,” he grumbled, eyes straight ahead, arms and legs pumping.

She gave an exaggerated sigh. “Thank you, Josh, for saving my life. And I apologize for slapping you. All right? Better?”

He turned to her, furious. “I can’t work like this, Chloe. I’m supposed to be writing and with all your…
drama
—” He threw up his hands. “—I just can’t focus!”

“Look who’s talking,” she countered. “This was supposed to be a quiet getaway, and instead I’ve landed myself in some version of world war three!”

He controlled a strong urge to grab her by the shoulders. “We have to find a way to get along. For both our sakes.”

“I couldn’t agree more.”

“So I suggest that from now on we stay as far away from each other as humanly possible.”

“Fine!” She tilted her chin defiantly. “If that’s what you want.”

“That’s exactly what I want.”

She flapped her arms like a chicken trying to take flight. “Then that’s what we’ll do. From now on, you won’t see me. I’ll be a ghost to you. Each time you wonder, Where’s Chloe? you won’t find me. I’ll be invisible. I’ll be the shadow on the wall. I’ll be the whisper on the wind. I’ll be—”

“Stop babbling!” he hollered, raising his face to the sky.

She looked up, confused, then seemed to realize he was talking about her and gave him a defiant glare. “From now on, you’re dead to me.”

He gritted his teeth in exasperation. “Great. That’s all I ever wanted.”

And with those words, he strode off, leaving her to stew in her own juice.

CHAPTER 10

Chloe looked out across the pool. She’d been lounging on the deck chair for the better part of the morning, keeping well in the shade cast by a large parasol and furiously nibbling on her pencil as if somehow hoping to draw inspiration from it. On the side table next to her lay her notebook with the ideas she’d been scribbling for the past fortnight. It wasn’t that she didn’t have ideas for her next novel. She had plenty. It was that she didn’t know which ones to choose from. She really wanted to write the best novel she could ever write, and from reading over her notes, she just knew that the one brilliant idea that would shoot her to the top of her chosen profession simply wasn’t there.

She needed a catchy set-up, a high concept idea that would explode her name onto the scene with a bang.

She groaned and sucked harder on her pencil, pushing her sunglasses higher up her nose.