Helen Brooks - The Billionaire's Marriage Mission

The piercing gaze homed in. There was an ear-splitting moment of silence before he said, very quietly, ‘I see.’

She wanted to run but she kept her voice low as she stared at him defiantly. ‘What does that mean?’

He took up the challenge immediately. ‘It’s the answer to why a young woman with your looks and brains is burying herself in the back of beyond for a while,’ he said calmly.

Arrogant, self-opinionated, supercilious swine. ‘You know nothing about me, Mr Black, so don’t pretend you do.’

‘The name’s Travis,’ he said mildly, glancing at his watch before adding, ‘And we’d better be making tracks if we’re going to meet John. I’ve dug out a pair of old flip-flops my sister left here some time ago, by the way. I presume you don’t want to wade through mud if you don’t have to?’

It was through gritted teeth that she said, ‘Thank you.’

‘You’re most welcome.’ He bowed his head, his eyes on her.

He was enjoying this. She just knew he was enjoying the whole situation. Beth rose with what she hoped was a good deal of dignity. ‘I’ll go and fetch my things from upstairs.’ She paused. Much as she hated to ask, she couldn’t very well let her pyjamas and slippers drip all over his carpet. ‘Do you have a carrier bag I can use?’ she added tightly. ‘I left my clothes in soak last night.’

‘Very wise.’ He reached into a cupboard and fetched out a bag. ‘And the flip-flops are by the front door.’

She nodded and then sailed out of the room with her nose in the air. Once in her bedroom, she closed the door and leaned against it, shutting her eyes for a moment. All this because she had made the mistake of following Harvey outside to make sure he was all right. She must have been mad. If ever a dog could look after himself, Harvey could.

Levering herself upright, she marched into the bathroom and retrieved her sodden pyjamas and slippers from the basin. They still carried a faint whiff of something unmentionable.

‘It doesn’t matter,’ she told herself out loud. ‘Just keep calm and ignore anything he might say. In a little while you’ll be back in the cottage and you need never see Travis Black again in the whole of your life.’

And that couldn’t happen a moment too soon as far as she was concerned. He might have rescued her—in a fashion—and in a way she supposed he was something of a good Samaritan, albeit a slightly sarcastic and head-on challenging one, but he was right. She didn’t like him. He was too self-assured, too high-handed, and that amusement with which he seemed to view her was downright insulting.

She was a capable and experienced professional woman who held down a good job and took care of herself just fine. Well, usually. Admittedly last night had been something of a hiccup but everyone had those now and again. He seemed to think she was an empty airhead.

She stuffed her wet things into the bag, frowning fiercely. And now she had to face this John Turner, who undoubtedly would also think she was a dizzy female who had lost the sense she was born with. Life was so unfair sometimes…

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