The Real Romero(56)

                Except, when was the last time she had thought about Robbie? How traumatised had she really been, exactly? If her heart had been broken, wouldn’t she have still been cooped up somewhere, licking her wounds and thinking about a future that wasn’t going to happen?

                ‘Cling to the prospect of what you’re getting out of this,’ he advised her. ‘And, if it puts your mind at ease, I’m happy to take the couch.’ He’d contemplated the enticing prospect of taking her to bed—before she had discovered who he really was and all the advantages that came wrapped up with him. She might make a big deal of her maidenly virtue, but how long would it be before she began really looking round his mother’s mansion; before she heard about all the other houses he owned, scattered across the globe like unused jewels waiting to be aired when the occasion arose?

                Take one self-confessed romantic, tie it up with a broken heart and then into the mix throw one billionaire with a healthy libido and what did you come out with?

                Complications. It didn’t take a genius to figure that one out. And, when it came to complications of an emotional nature, well, that was something Lucas could do without.

                So if that quirky something about her got to him...if there was something about her unruly hair and sexy little body that got his imagination firing on all cylinders...he would have to put it to rest. He was accustomed to getting exactly what he wanted with the opposite sex but, in this instance, his hands were tied and he wasn’t about to untie them so that he could play with a bit of fire.

                Milly eyed the couch with jaundiced eyes. Okay, so he wouldn’t be sharing the bed with her—the gigantic king-size bed with its gauze canopy—but she would still be aware of him sleeping only a matter of metres away.

                And that shouldn’t be a problem. He certainly didn’t see it as one. Maybe he had flirted slightly with her, in his few days as a ski instructor, but that was then.

                ‘I’m not accustomed to sharing a bedroom,’ she protested feebly and his face relaxed into a disbelieving, mocking half smile.

                ‘You were engaged...’ He drew that one sentence out as though it was explanation in itself that she wasn’t quite telling the truth.

                Milly reddened, mouth dry. ‘You keep reminding me of that,’ she said in a valiant attempt to change the course of the conversation because she didn’t like where it was heading. ‘I guess in a minute you’ll start lecturing me about not facing reality and being a hopeless romantic and burying my head in the sand...’

                Lucas narrowed his eyes on her. ‘You didn’t share a bedroom with the guy?’ he asked, honing in on the truth with deadly accuracy. He watched the way she guiltily glazed over and licked her lips. He knew that he shouldn’t pursue the topic because, frankly, there was no point. This wasn’t a ‘getting to know you’ exercise, after all, although stable doors and horses sprang to mind, resuscitating that unease he had earlier felt. They knew each other... Like it or not, weird though it seemed...

                ‘I don’t think that’s any of your business,’ Milly said haughtily. ‘And I think I’ll have that shower you mentioned...’

                ‘Course it’s my business,’ he told her with just the sort of slow smile that implied that shrewd mind of his was leaping to all sorts of correct conclusions about her relationship with Robbie. ‘We’re in love. Isn’t that what star-struck lovers do—share everything?’

                ‘You...you’re...’ She spluttered furiously at him and he grinned.

                ‘You’re like a little spitting cat.’