Tempted By The Billionaire Next Door. Therese Beharrie

Tempted By The Billionaire Next Door - Therese Beharrie


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CHAPTER THIRTEEN

       CHAPTER FOURTEEN

       CHAPTER FIFTEEN

       CHAPTER SIXTEEN

       CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

       CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

       CHAPTER NINETEEN

       EPILOGUE

       Extract

       About the Publisher

       CHAPTER ONE

      JESSICA STEYN HADN’T deliberately sought out the half-naked man who’d entertained her over the last week. But she couldn’t deny that watching him had fast become her new favourite hobby.

      She watched as he bent over to pick up another stack of logs—watched as the muscles of his naked back rippled, the lightest sheen of sweat defining them even more—and conceded that it was definitely top-notch entertainment.

      Guilt poked at her, but she ignored it. It wasn’t her fault that he wasn’t wearing a shirt. Nor was it her fault that he’d made a routine of cutting up the trees in his yard. Every day at noon he emerged from the house—wearing an old T-shirt that inevitably got tossed aside about five minutes into his task—and hacked the trunks he’d cut down the day before into logs. He then placed them in a pile, before carrying them over to an enclosed area where he’d set them down and start all over again.

      So, ever since she’d noticed there was a routine, every day at noon she would settle in front of the window that overlooked his property to enjoy the show.

      Thank goodness she’d discovered him, she thought as he gulped down a bottle of water. Water that dribbled over his chin, creating an enticing path down the column of his throat, between his pecs and the impressive ridges of his abs. Her heart rate immediately skyrocketed, and she thought that maybe she needed a glass of water, too.

      He was a pretty decent distraction in an otherwise boring day. Now that her friend and boss, Anja, was away with her husband, Chet, on business, Jess’s days were mostly free. Apart from watching Mr Sexy-Next-Door.

      And, of course, thinking about the child she carried.

      Before her mind could take that detour—about how this child made Jess feel as if her life was actually worth something for the first time—she thought about how annoyed she was with Anja for not telling her that there was a Mr Sexy-Next-Door.

      She’d been helping Anja manage her yoga studio for almost two years now, and this was the first time Jess had seen him. Though, to be fair, it was also the first time Jess had stayed at Anja’s house for longer than a few days. But she still expected Anja to tell her about the man. Perhaps not as her boss, but as her friend.

      And definitely as her best friend.

      But all thoughts of that vanished when the top log of the stack Mr Sexy had set down started to roll. He’d already turned away, so didn’t see the snowball effect of that one log. Jess pushed out of her chair, a wordless cry of warning on her lips, but it was too late. The logs had rolled under his feet and she watched in horror as he fell to the ground, twisting his body so that he landed on his hip.

      Before she knew it, she was out of the front door. She had to turn back when she realised she hadn’t locked the house and, after she did, she ran as fast as her swollen body would allow to her temporary neighbour’s house. She said a silent prayer of thanks when she found his gate open and then she was kneeling beside him, her hands running over the chest she’d admired only minutes before.

      She ignored how the grooves of his muscles, his abs, felt beneath her hands and focused on identifying whether anything was broken. She realised that he’d turned over onto his back then, but it only made her pause for a second. Then her hands were on his ankles, his calves, but, before she could feel his thighs or hips, two large hands gripped her wrists.

      ‘I’m not opposed to having a beautiful woman run her hands over me, but maybe we should leave that particular area for when we know each other better.’

      Jess felt her face burn and quickly pulled back. But her balance was off and she landed on her butt. Her hand immediately went to her stomach, but she dropped it just as quickly. Not because his eyes had followed the gesture, and the way the interest there had cooled reminded her of the dismissive looks her parents had used to give her, but because she was fairly certain the baby was fine. She hadn’t fallen very hard. Though she really had to remember that pregnancy had made her clumsy.

      ‘I’m assuming that response means you didn’t knock your head on the way down.’ She debated not saying anything else, but she knew she would worry if she didn’t ask. ‘Are you okay?’

      ‘Yeah, I guess so. Well, as okay as you can be when someone witnesses a couple of logs trip you.’ He moved to push up to his forearms, but she crawled forward and set a hand on his chest, pushing him back down.

      ‘You should stay still until we’re sure you’re really fine.’

      ‘I am sure. I’m fine.’

      Realising he was the stubborn sort, Jess pressed a hand against his hip and nodded when he winced. ‘You’re not fine. I’m calling an ambulance.’

      Before she could move to her feet, he grabbed her wrist again. This time, she felt the heat of his hand on her arm. Felt the callused bumps at the base of his fingers rub against her skin. She wasn’t sure why it sent a flush through her body, but she stilled and then gently pulled her arm out of his grip.

      His expression didn’t change, though something in his eyes flickered. ‘I really am fine. I’ll probably have a bruise on my hip tomorrow—and my ego will probably need to be resuscitated since it was murdered so cruelly—but I promise you, I’m fine.’

      He sat up then, and she let him. ‘Besides,’ he continued with a smile that made the flush in her body go hotter, ‘if I’m not fine, maybe you’ll come to my rescue again.’

      ‘Unlikely,’ she replied, ignoring the way her lips wanted to curve at his words. ‘I just happened to be looking out of my window when you fell.’

      It sounded legitimate, she thought, and almost patted herself on the back when she saw he’d bought her excuse. Good thing, too. She wasn’t sure how she could explain the real reason she’d seen him.

      ‘I appreciate you wanting to help me. Are you a doctor?’

      ‘No.’

      ‘Nurse?’

      She shook her head.

      ‘So, you just ran over when you saw me fall without any medical skills whatsoever?’

      ‘I was a lifeguard when I was a teenager.’ A choice her parents had disapproved of heartily. Funny how they’d chosen to be interested in something so insignificant when they’d ignored everything else in her life. When they’d ignored her. ‘I have first-aid experience, and falls were the first thing they taught us to deal with.’

      ‘I


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