The Billionaire's Masquerade Page 0,3

from the blood rushing through her body at a crazy, pulse pounding rate.

That was when she realized that she’d stopped breathing and she took a gasping breath, trying to quickly regain her equilibrium. She was just starting to find her balance when she realized how tall he was. As he approached, she had to lean her head back farther and farther until he was standing about a foot away from her, towering over her with crystal blue eyes that were so startling, she thought she might just melt into a pool of lust right there on the gravel driveway.

When she realized she was just staring at that gorgeous expanse of tanned, muscled chest with her fingers and palms itching to touch all that glorious skin, she closed her eyes and shook her head. “I’m so sorry,” she whispered, her embarrassment painful.

“What are you sorry for?” he asked softly, feeling cold now that her heated eyes weren’t traveling up and down his body.

She didn’t like the breathy sound of her voice, but she really didn’t like the way she’d objectified this stranger. She’d treated him abominably and she was ashamed. “I was looking at you inappropriately,” she admitted, stiffening her shoulders and trying to look anywhere but at his chest. Didn’t the man have a shirt?

His soft laughter melted over her tense shoulders until he said, “Don’t worry about it. I was doing the same to you before you realized I was here.”

She humphed at that and looked at the cottage, at the beaten up old truck with all the painting equipment and tools piled in the back. She wasn’t exactly sure how to react to that, but wished she hadn’t blushed so brightly. “Well, still….”

“What brings you out to Cape Elizabeth?” he interrupted gently.

Rachel stared at her hands, then back at the cottage again. “I’m…um…” it took her several seconds to remember why she’d actually come here. She looked around…the bushes, the gravel drive, the cottage…none of it made sense with this gorgeous, muscled stranger standing in front of her. All her mind could think and wonder about was how much she wanted to touch his skin, to taste him and bury her nose….

Good grief! She’d never reacted to a man like this before and she was horrified at her undisciplined behavior!

Focus! She wasn’t here to gawk!

What was she doing here? And where was the man’s shirt?! “Oh…I’m looking for someone,” she answered, relieved when her memory returned. Was that piece of fabric draped over the bannister of the front porch his shirt?

She stepped around the extremely large male and walked over to the piece of fabric and picked it up, refusing to lift it to her nose to smell it. Surely it smelled awful, wouldn’t it? But the man didn’t smell. At least not bad. There was something….just right about the way he smelled despite the sweat covering all those fabulous, taut muscles.

She handed the shirt to him delicately, silently indicating he should put the shirt on and cover himself in front of her.

Unfortunately, the subtle hint didn’t really work because the obnoxious man just tossed that shirt over his shoulder. Rachel wasn’t sure if she was irritated that he hadn’t covered up some of those muscles or if she was relieved that he hadn’t put the shirt on and covered all of them so she could speak with him intelligently. His exposed chest was making her stupid!

“Who are you looking for?” he asked, wiping his hands on a rag he dug out of the back of the truck.

“He’s probably your employer,” she said carefully, looking down to check her red shoes. “Mr. Emerson Watson.”

“Why do you want to talk to him?” the stranger asked.

Rachel looked at him curiously. Why had he gone tense for that fraction of a second? He must not like his employer, Rachel sighed. If everything she’d heard about Mr. Watson was true, she wasn’t going to enjoy working for him either.

She looked around, desperate to focus once more on her mission but she was having trouble with him standing there with his bare chest looking so enticing! “Could you please put that shirt on?” she snapped, glaring at him.

Emerson suppressed his chuckle, enjoying her discomfort. “Why? It’s hot and I have a lot of work to do today.”

Her hand covered her stomach which refused to stop fluttering like a silly school girl in front of her first crush. “It isn’t appropriate!” she almost growled. She flung her hands behind her back, afraid she might