Page 30 of The Billionaire's Runaway Bride

“Why?”

“Hey, I didn’t ask you why you slept around and earned yourself a scandal. I didn’t ask why you lost property.”

“What did he do?” His question should’ve been a simple one, but with the way he growls it so menacingly, I can’t help but furrow my brow at his tone and the scowl that accompanies it.

I swallow, my mouth suddenly dry. I won’t tell him. I told Marian, and I refuse to believe for one second that she would have betrayed my trust and told Caleb such personal and private information like that. She seemed so worried at the campfire, though, that Jeremy could come after me with the intention of hurting me. I wouldn’t have put it past her to tell Caleb about her concerns, but not without getting my approval first. It’s my story to tell, not hers.

She wouldn’t have. I know that, just like I knew from the moment I met her that I could seek comfort and solace here.

But Caleb? I’m not nearly as certain I have any business trusting him. Not with my past, not with my body, and not with my heart. No matter how pissed he looks, like he’s figured out the reason why Jeremy is the enemy I ran from, I can’t tell him. Not until I know he’s not a threat too.

He stalks over to me without waiting for my reply. His patience has run out.

I stand still, watching him close the distance between us. My heart thumps wildly, and I breathe faster, suspended in anticipation for him to reach me. While my mind races, wondering what he’ll do or say after such a tense and explosive argument, I’m eager to be close again. I can damn it all I want, but knowing he’s approaching me with a serious, yet stern expression is my undoing.

Sweat drips from him and in the bright sunshine, he’s gleaming. All that tanned skin glows, emphasizing every chiseled muscle he’s sporting. It’s illegal how hot he is without a shirt, and just witnessing him chopping wood like a manic powerhouse is too much. It’s way too much to handle, and that’s why when he stands in my space, I gulp. I tense, schooling myself to refrain from reaching for him and closing the gap of mere inches between us.

He’s right there, so close I feel the heat radiating from him. The smell of soap and sweat mixes with the grittier scent of wood, and I stop myself from sniffing deep.

I narrow my eyes, daring him to push my buttons any more today. Not right now, at least, when I’m half tempted to jump him as much as I’m eager to throttle him.

When he lifts two fingers and presses them to the underside of my chin, I damn near whimper. He raises my face and leans closer, hovering over me.

I lick my lips, and I catch his gaze dropping there, tracking the movement of my tongue.

Time stills. Sounds cease to enter my ears. All I can do is stare up at him, both daring and cursing him for invading my space like this.

“You don’t know me, sweetheart.”

I slit my eyes more at the endearment. I loathe the way I want to hear it again, especially in that gravelly voice.

“You think I’m just a rich guy who belongs in a suit, like your dad. But if anyone comes here to mess with you, they’ll have to get through me first.”

My heart thumps faster. I blink, willing myself to remain strong and not react.

But then he slants closer and I shut my eyes, wondering if he’ll close the gap. I wrench them open, chiding myself for wanting him to step toward me and push me just a little more and to kiss me.

“Your little secret is safe with me,” he promises.

I frown as he releases me, retreating with a quick lunge backward, as if he can’t trust himself to linger another moment longer.

Then he walks away, leaving me standing there and staring after him, bewildered.

And so turned on I can’t begin to make sense of what just happened.

Chapter 12

Caleb

After I yank my control back into my hands and leave Lauren outside, I hurry upstairs. I have to reclaim distance from that woman. She’s too tempting, especially when she’s mad; when her eyes are glittering a sharp, crystalline blue that sparks with her temper. She’s bold. I know that. But when she’s mad, she’s passionate and raw.

I groan at the memory of her glaring at me, and I know I’ll never forget the way she seethed at me.

I shut the door to my suite as calmly as I can, then go into the bathroom. Even if I wasn’t sweaty from the exertion of chopping firewood, I’d need an epic cooldown after facing Lauren like that.

Once I shuck my clothes and crank on the water, I seek solace under the pounding pressure from the showerhead. When I pulled up to the bed-and-breakfast, I was skeptical. Marian more than makes up for the original lackluster exterior with the excellent showerheads that feel like a punishing, kneading massage that tenderizes my muscles. I turn, rinsing off the sweat and wishing I could let the aggravation and questions join the water down the drain.

What happened? Lauren didn’t miss her wedding, she left it. She left that jerk-face at the altar and wound up here, of all places, and I need to know why. Maybe she was right. It might not be my business, but with a startling realization, I admit that I want her to be my business. Lauren has come to matter to me, and while I’ll procrastinate explaining why she does, I just accept it as a fact.

---