Her Three Entrepreneurs [The Hot Millionaires #8] (6 page)

Athena’s expression was remote as she dwelled upon events she would probably prefer to forget. It couldn’t be a whole lot of fun knowing the woman who’d given her life viewed her as an inconvenience. But she’d gotten over that and dedicated herself to the one person who had truly loved her. Seldom had Bay admired anyone more. She’d given up all aspirations for a career of her own simply because her grandfather needed her. Bay couldn’t imagine inspiring that sort of loyalty in anyone. Her violet eyes glowed in the dimly lit room, and her lips had never seemed more kissable.

He stood up and cleared the dishes, crashing them together in his haste. It was either that or make a move on her. He wanted her a damned sight more than he’d let on to his buddies, more than he’d wanted any woman in a very long time. But he wasn’t about to take advantage of her vulnerability. The ancient kitchen didn’t sport a dishwasher, so Bay stacked the plates in the sink and poured hot water onto them.

“Leave that,” she said.

“Best do it now. It won’t take a moment. Then we’ll sort one of those spare rooms for me. You look exhausted.”

“Yes,” she said. “I am a bit.” She stood, picked up a cloth, and started to dry the dishes. “Thank you, Bay,” she said, avoiding all eye contact.

“What for?”

“For being here. You’re right. I wouldn’t have wanted to spend the night alone.”

Geez, she wasn’t making this easy for him. “No problem,” he said, washing the last of the plates and turning away from her before he gave in to temptation and kissed her senseless. “Let’s get those beds made up, shall we?”

“It looks like the linen closet survived more or less intact,” Athena remarked, just for something to say.

“Looks that way,” Bay agreed, taking a pile of sheets and towels from her hand.

“This is probably the best.” She led him into a large room dominated by a high, old-fashioned bedstead. There was a far-reaching view over the surrounding country. Athena struggled with the warped window and threw it open. “These rooms haven’t been used for years, but at least there was nothing in here for the burglar to trash.”

She felt tension crackling in the atmosphere as she bustled about with a duster and can of spray polish, filling the air with the fresh smell of lavender. Although large, the room seemed too small for both of them, and they kept bumping into one another. Or rather, she appeared to be getting in his way.

“Sorry.” She collided with his hip and jumped back as though contact with him had scalded her.

He chuckled. “There’s no need to be nervous,” he said, spreading an old cotton sheet, worn smooth by years’ worth of laundering, across the mattress. “I don’t bite.”

Athena tried to look indifferent. “Who’s nervous?”

He chose a couple of pillows and shot her a confident smile. “You are.”

His disgusting self-confidence was more than she could handle right now. Her head was swamped with a thousand different reactions to the events of the day. She absolutely didn’t need a not-entirely-civilized male with taut muscles and a tantalizing smile messing with her already overloaded brain. Perhaps this wasn’t such a good idea after all.

“You seem to have everything under control here, so I’ll leave you to it.” She headed for the door. “The bathroom’s down the hall.”

“Hey, what did I say?”

“Good night.”

She closed the door softly behind her, aware of his bemused expression. Athena felt rather pleased about that. She might not be able to get the better of him when it came to verbal sparring, but at least she’d managed to walk out on him. She doubted if many women invented reasons
not
to stay in his bedroom.

Athena badly needed a shower, but the house only had one bathroom. She didn’t intend to make prolonged use of it and find him lurking outside the door when she was done. Not that he’d given her any reason to suppose that he
was
thinking along those lines. If she was honest with herself, in her current state of frustration, she was probably more of a danger to him.

“Get over yourself,” she muttered, making a dash for the bathroom.

She washed in record time, brushed her teeth, and made it back to her room before Bay emerged from his. That was a good thing, wasn’t it?

Athena was exhausted, but sleep eluded her. Her mind whirled as she tried to figure out who was behind the attack on her grandfather. As far as she was aware, all the locals liked and respected him. If he had any enemies, she didn’t know who they were. The Americans were the obvious culprits, but she knew now that they weren’t guilty. She tossed and turned, feeling lonely and restless in her solitary bed. The lack of regular male company hadn’t bothered her that much since moving back to the farm, and she blamed the three Yanks for changing that situation. They’d messed with her head, reminding her there was more to life than working her fingers to the bone. Reminding her that she was a woman with needs and desires, just like the rest of her sex.

They had no business being such hunks, crowding her out, making her feel there was something missing in a life that up until today had suited her perfectly well.

Rowan, lying on the rug next to her bed, appeared to be as restless as she was. He must be missing Gramps, too. She reached out a hand and carefully tugged his ears. He whined softly, turned in several circles, and appeared to nod off.

Athena tried to do the same, but it was no good. She glanced at the clock. An hour had gone by and she hadn’t slept a wink. Usually she went to bed and died. That was the upside of living such a physically active life. She hauled herself out of bed and headed back down to the kitchen. She’d finish tidying up the mess downstairs. That ought to do the trick.

Wearing just an oversized T-shirt, she crept down the stairs, careful not to wake Bay. The dining room, which they seldom used, housed all her grandmother’s best china. She had only glanced round the door up until now, but that was enough for her to know that the room had been trashed. Seeing the broken china would upset her but not nearly as much as it would upset Gramps. She needed to salvage what she could before he came home.

Athena steeled herself and opened the door. It was worse than she had previously realised. Broken china crunched beneath her slippered feet, and she walked across the rug, causing her anger to erupt.
Why?
She and Gramps had so little to show for their hard work. These few pieces of china held precious memories. What had either of them done to deserve this?

She picked up a sugar bowl that she recalled her grandmother lovingly producing on special occasions. It was still intact but badly chipped and cracked. Suddenly it was too much for her. Athena sat cross-legged in the middle of the mayhem and, for the second time in one day, gave way to a bout of frustrated tears.

* * * *

The bed was a lot more comfortable than it had looked, but Bay couldn’t sleep. He kept the window wide open and a gentle breeze wafted the scent of honeysuckle and rambling roses into the musty room. Bay wasn’t used to the absolute quiet of a remote country farm. He found it soothing and unsettling at the same time. It also made him wonder what Athena did for recreation. Buried away here, any sort of a social life was going to be a challenge.

No possessive boyfriend had come running to her aid following the break-in, and as far as he knew, she hadn’t phoned anyone. That didn’t mean that she didn’t have a significant other. It was unlikely that someone as attractive as her would be left alone for long. So why hadn’t she called him? Unless she’d given someone the elbow and this was his revenge. A man scorned, and all that. It seemed extreme, but Bay had heard of stranger things happening.

Then there was George, the protective farmhand, to consider. He, at least, seemed to care about her. But Bay got the impression that she merely looked upon him as a friend. He might feel peeved enough to trash the house, but would he brutally attack his employer? If his intention was to impress Athena, it was hardly the right way to go about it. Bay had been here for a few hours and already knew how close she was to her grandfather. George must be well aware of their tight relationship, seeing them together every day. Still, he’d check him out, as well as the other guy who worked here. He couldn’t imagine either of them influencing the bank’s lending policy, but for want of any better leads, he might as well start there.

And then the mother… What was that? Someone was downstairs. Bay sat up and listened. Yep, there was definitely the sound of broken crockery being moved about. Why the hell hadn’t that useless dog barked? He slipped out of bed, pulled a pair of boxers over his naked body and slipped quietly down the stairs, hoping Athena hadn’t heard the noise and gone down to take a look herself.

The door to the dining room was open and a light spilled out. Bay expelled a frustrated breath, already guessing what he was going to find. It would certainly explain why the dog hadn’t barked. He poked his head round the door and, sure enough, Athena sat in the middle of the chaos, quietly sobbing. She wore a T-shirt that had ridden up her slim thighs, leaving little to the imagination. The dog was there, too, resting his head against her knee in a gesture of doggy solidarity.

Bay didn’t know whether to carry her back to bed—his bed—or creep away again and give her some space. It was beyond him to leave her alone. Her despondency cut him to the quick, and the desire that he’d been fighting all day to fuck her senseless was replaced with an even greater need to make her feel better about herself. Bay was mildly surprised by the change in his priorities. Before he could decide what to do about them, she glanced up and saw him there.

“Sorry if I disturbed you,” she muttered through her tears.

“What are you doing up?” he asked at the same time.

“I couldn’t sleep.”

“Me neither.” He held out a hand and offered her a gentle smile. “Come on, this is no time to do the housework.”

He noticed a roll of kitchen paper beside her. She tore off a strip and blew her nose. Then she looked up at him again, as though seeing him for the first time, and blinked. Only then did he realize that he was standing there in his underwear. She didn’t appear to mind. In fact, she got up, took his hand and meekly allowed him to lead her from the room.

He closed the door on the devastation, making a mental note to sort it out for her when he could. This room obviously held memories, and he’d do what he could to salvage as many of her family’s possessions as possible. When he got his hands on the cowardly bastard who’d done this to her, he’d break the jerk’s neck with his bare hands. The violence of his thoughts surprised him, but he didn’t stop to analyze the reasons why he felt so strongly.

“You sure you haven’t got anything stronger than tea in this house?” he asked. “We could sure do with something to help us sleep.”

“Was the bed
that
uncomfortable?” she asked, with a glimmer of her feisty personality shining through the tears.

“It’s too damned quiet,” he said, unconvincing even to his own ears.

“You townies are too soft.” She rummaged at the back of the pantry and let out a triumphant shout. “Emergency supplies,” she said, triumphantly brandishing a half bottle of brandy.

“Just what Uncle Bay ordered.”

He took the bottle from her, found a couple of glasses and poured them each a healthy tot. She sat at the kitchen table and watched him, an unreadable expression gracing her features.

“Thanks,” she said. “I should have thought of this myself.”

He handed her glass to her and took the seat opposite. It was probably better to keep the table as a barrier between them. “Cheers,” he said, clinking his glass against hers.

They each sipped their drinks warily, watching one another over the rims of the glasses. Her violet eyes, still rimmed with tears, were now wary with…with what? Anticipation, curiosity? They were both virtually naked, presumably accounting for the air of expectation that hovered between them. The room was cool and he could see her nipples, ripe and firm, pushing against the fabric of her T-shirt. Hell, he wanted her! He also knew better than to make a move. She was an emotional wreck and he didn’t intend to take advantage of her vulnerability.

“You, Dex, and Marty seem pretty tight.” The sound of her voice broke the tense silence, temporarily diverting his mind away from thoughts of fucking her. “How come you’re in partnership? Did you grow up together or something like that?”

“No, we’re from different states and only met one another about ten years ago. I was managing a country club back in Boston and Marty was employed as the golf professional.”

Her eyes widened. “He’s a professional golfer.”

“He’s a golf teacher.” Bay smiled. “He’d be the first to tell you there’s a big difference. Between you and me, he’s a damned good golfer and could probably have made it as a pro, but he didn’t want to go down that route.”

“Why not?”

His gaze was fixated on her lush mouth and the way her lips parted, shiny and moist, whenever she spoke. If ever a mouth was designed to be kissed, it was hers. It was a criminal waste.

“Sorry.” He shook his head to dispel the forbidden thought. “What did you say?”

“I asked why Marty didn’t want to go on the professional golf circuit.”