Billionaire: Billionaire Romance: Billionaire Tiger (A Billionaire New Adult Shifter Contemporary Romance) (25 page)

“You needn’t worry about funds, Ms. Evans. Your grandmother left a small inheritance at your disposal. I can lend you a few pounds until the proper paperwork is filed with the bank.”

“Thank you.” Blair leaned back, trying to absorb the face that she had money. “Is there enough for school, Mr. Haines?”

“I think so. Why?”

“I wanted to enroll in culinary school. I had to cancel the whole semester because I didn’t have the money.”
“Well,” he said kindly. “There is always spring and summer.”

“That’s right,” she laughed.

Blair spent the rest of the afternoon pouring over the guidebook while Mr. Haines napped and drooled on his lapel. She reached for a tissue and wiped it off.

The train pulled up at Penwith shortly after three and a cab dropped them off at a hotel where Mr. Haines checked them into two suites, each with its own private bath. He left her to make arrangements for a car to drive them up to Pennhalow in the morning.

Blair was exhausted. She kicked off her shoes and jumped into bed, revelling in the luxurious comforter and scent of lavender. She fell into a deep sleep and dreamt of a man.

He was tall and dark, his face obscured in shadow. Blair backed away, feeling both frightened and intrigued. He reached out and caught her hand pulling her towards him.

Blair opened her eyes as his lips touched hers…

Two

Blair shook off the strange dream and took a long, hot shower. It was a relief not having to worry about the water bill. She laughed and lathered up with the samples of scented bath gels and shampoo. After towelling herself off she ordered room service and indulged in Scottish smoked salmon and poached eggs.

She pulled on a pair of camouflage army pants, T-shirt, and hoodie for the ride up to Pennhalow. Mr. Haines thought it might rain so she tugged on a pair of hiking boots as well. Blair brushed her hair and glanced outside. It did look like rain with an ominous gathering of black clouds over the village.

At nine o’clock, Mr. Haines came to fetch her and they huddled inside the taxicab trying to get warm. “It’s freezing!” Mr. Haines admonished. “Please turn on the heater.”

“Can’t,” the driver grunted. “Heat’s broken.”

“This is unacceptable!” Mr. Haines sputtered in outrage. “I will file a formal complaint!”

“It’s okay,” Blair said, trying to calm him down. “Let’s just go and hurry back.” Mr. Haines turned away in a huff and glowered at the driver during the hour and half journey to her grandmother’s house.

Blair was so miserable she couldn’t enjoy the scenery as they drove along the coast and pulled her jacket closer about her. Mr. Haines scowled and brooded the whole way to Cape Cornwall and made no apologies for the lack of a proper tip after the driver sped off.

“Wretched man,” he swore. “Did you see the way he looked at me? I’d swear he was Jack the Ripper in a former life.”

Blair laughed. “Nonsense,” she scoffed. “He hasn’t had his pint yet.”

Mr. Haines pulled out his umbrella and shielded them from a light drizzle and damp gusts of wind pouring in from the cove. “Well,” he said, teeth chattering. “What do you think of the property?”

She nodded in approval. “It’s huge.” Blair wanted to inspect the garden but the wind was kicking up something fierce and threatened to send them pitching over the cliff. “Can we go inside?” she yelled over the din.

“This way,” he shouted back, taking her hand and escorting her up the stone path to a wrought-iron door. He handed her the umbrella and fumbled in his pockets for the key. His hands shook as he inserted it into the keyhole and turned the knob. They stumbled forth and the door slammed shut behind them.

Blair shook out the umbrella and squinted in the semi-darkness. “Is the power on?” she asked, trying a switch. “Don’t tell me she forgot to pay the electric bill!”

“I’m afraid so,” Mr. Haines said with a shudder. “They turned the power off years ago.”

“That’s nice to know.” Blair followed him into the kitchen. “We should have brought flashlights.”

“There are candles somewhere,” he told her, rummaging around in cabinets and yanking out drawers. He found a few tapers and placed it into a lantern he found beside the sink. Blair struck a match and an eerie glow lit up the room.

“It’s so small,” she said, her eyes taking in every detail. There was a small old-fashioned icebox, whitewashed cabinets, stencilled drop-leaf table and matching chairs. The quaint interior was marred by years of neglect. Everything seemed grimy and old with inches of caked on dust and burned grease. “It looks like it hasn’t been cleaned in years.”

“Sorry about that,” Mr. Haines said, taking off his hat and giving it a shake. “Your grandmother had a maid but had to let her go.”

“Why?” Blair rubbed her finger on the stove and grimaced. “She could have at least scrubbed the place before she left.”

“The woman was very difficult, I’m afraid.”

“No kidding.” Blair opened a few cabinets and shrieked when a mouse jumped out. “She left a few mementos,” she said, gagging at the fetid piles of mouse droppings. “It makes me want to take a bottle of bleach to the place.”

“You’d be wasting your time,” Mr. Haines said dryly. “The house has a tendency to keep its dirt. Don’t ask me why.”

“Is that so?”

“Come,” he said, lighting several more lanterns. “We’ll have a look at the living quarters.”

“Okay.”

Blair held up the lantern and followed obediently as Mr. Haines gave her the grand tour. There was a living room, library, and a reception room on the first floor. They went upstairs and found five bedrooms full of dusty and molding furniture. Drapes covered dirty windows, toilets were either smashed to bits or broken in pieces, and there was a massive hole in the ceiling in the master bedroom.

Blair felt like weeping.

“There’s nothing left,” she croaked. “I have nothing.”

“Don’t take on so,” Mr. Haines soothed. “The property is salvageable.”

“Salvageable?” Blair repeated numbly. “How? I’ve got a house full of junk. I’m leaving.” She ran downstairs and flung open the door. A violent gust of wind pushed her back inside and slammed the door shut. Mr. Haines came running after her and saw the frightened look on her face.

“What is it? What’s happened?” he asked in alarm.

Her eyes widened as she glanced wildly about. “Is this place haunted?”

“Haunted?’ he scoffed. “Of course not!”

“Are you sure?”

“I’m perfectly certain the house doesn’t come with spirits,” he chortled. “Why? Have you seen one?”

“Just now,” Blair said shakily. “I opened the door and it was as if something shoved me back inside and shut the door.”

“The wind,” Mr. Haines surmised. “There’s a storm coming. We should leave before it gets worse.”

“And how do we get back?” Blair demanded, feeling something cold and unpleasant crawl up her spine. “You sent the driver away.”

Mr. Haines pulled out his phone. “That is easily remedied.” He punched a few numbers and called for another taxi. “They will be here within the hour.”

“And what do we do until then?”

Mr. Haines shrugged. “We could see the guest house. It has a working fireplace.”

“Show me!”

The guesthouse was a small brick cottage that held a kitchen, three bedrooms, and a fireplace. Mr. Haines found a few scraps of firewood and soon a warm fire blazed forth and guarded against the damp chill seeping in from a broken window. Blair found cups and saucers and teabags. For water, there was a hand-pump in the kitchen and it eked out enough water for two cups of tea.

There was no sugar.

Blair sipped hers and warmed her hands at the same time. “What was she like?”

“Who?”

“Grandmother.”

“She was a kind woman. Had a naughty sense of humor though.” Mr. Haines set his cup down. “Did you know she swore like a sailor?”’

“No.”

“And that she drove an ambulance during the war?”

“No kidding?” Blair was impressed. “I wished I’d been able to say goodbye.”

“She understood.”

“There was no excuse.” She sighed. “I had no idea until I got your letter that she died in that awful place.” Her eyes filled with tears. “I just wish I’d been there for her.”

Mr. Haines handed her a handkerchief. “She didn’t know how hard it was for you either. Finding out what happened to you broke her heart. She tried to get money to you, but Randall intercepted the letters and took the checks.”

“Selfish bastard,” Blair spat. “She shouldn’t have left them anything.”

“She didn’t.” Mr. Haines chuckled. “The ten pounds goes to me. After everything is said and done, they wind up with cab fare and nothing more.”

“Well, that’s something at least.”

“Of course.”

Blair peered outside. “Where’s the cab?”

“I’ll check.” Mr. Haines punched in the number but all he got was a busy signal. “Bloody hell!” he swore angrily. “I don’t think they’re coming.”

“Great.” Blair set her cup aside. “I guess that means we’re staying the night?”

“I think it does.”

“Good thing I had a big breakfast,” she quipped. Mr. Haines rolled his eyes.

“I didn’t. All I had was cereal.”

She searched the cupboards. All she found was a stale packet of crackers. “Five years-old,” she informed him dryly. She tossed it on the table. “Eat up.”

“I think I’ll pass.”

“What time is it?”

“Half-past six.” He glanced up at the ceiling. “I wonder what the accommodations are like?”

“Only one way to find out.”

They found three bedrooms in varying stages of decay. One had no bed, one had a cot, and the last one had a massive four-poster with velvet drapes. Blair and Mr. Haines flipped a coin.

Blair got the four-poster.

“I’ll take the sofa,” he sighed. He wished her goodnight and shut the door.

She placed the lantern on a bedside table and tugged off her boots. The satin duvet was covered in dust, but the blankets and sheets looked all right. Blair found a clean pillowcase in a dresser and slid into bed. The mattress was soft and cozy and she found herself drifting off to sleep.

He was waiting for her.

“What do you want?” she cried, running from the tall figure. In her dream he’d chased her through the garden. “Don’t hurt me,” she pleaded.

“I would never hurt you,” he breathed as he caught up to her and yanked her against him. She gasped and tried to pull away. “No,” he whispered against her cheek. “Don’t be afraid. Let me love you, Blair.”

“How…do you know my name?” She was confused and frightened. Especially when he trailed warm kisses along her cheek and curve of her chin. “What…are you…doing?”’

“Hush, sweet Blair,” he murmured against her throat, sending delicious tingles down her spine. “Let me love you.”

“How?”

In her dream he was a tall, handsome rogue with dark, piercing eyes and raven hair. She couldn’t see his face. “How do you want to love me?”

“Like this,” he breathed, kissing her lips. She melted in his arms and gasped as his tongue slipped inside her mouth to tease and seduce. “Lovely Blair,” he said thickly. “Open for me.”

She didn’t understand. In her dream she was wearing a nightgown that tied with a ribbon at her throat. “Open?”

He laughed softly and toyed with the ribbon. “This,” he told her. “Untie this and let me see you.”

“I—I can’t.”

Blair’s head fell back as his lips caressed her throat. He reached and untied the ribbon and her breasts spilled forth into his hands. She moaned as he cupped and massaged the aching mounds, spreading warm fire through her body. “Like this, my love?” he asked, darting out his tongue to lick the salty sweetness of her flesh.

Her hands gripped his shoulders and whimpered as his lips settled over a nipple. pulling it into the hot cavern of his mouth. Blair’s fingers twisted in his hair. “Oh, my love,” she whimpered, trying to breathe through the sweet agony. “More!”

“Yes,” he growled, tugging the nightgown off her shoulders and sucking wildly on her breasts. Blair moaned and did not struggle when he urged her down on the soft grass. He pulled her beneath him and tore off his own clothing. “I will take you now,” he said softly.

Blair gasped at the feel of his muscular body against hers and slid her arms around his neck. “Will it hurt very much?” she panted, eyes widening at the size of his cock. “I don’t think it will fit…”

“Hush, darling,” he soothed, lowering his hips between her trembling thighs. “You’re so sweet,” her dream lover breathed against her lips as he slid into her. Blair cried out in pain. She wasn’t a virgin. But he was so big. “Forgive me, darling Blair.”

“It hurts,” she whimpered, biting her lip in agony. “Make it go.”
His head swooped down as he ravished her lips with is own. “I will,” he swore, beginning to move. Blair moaned and clutched him tighter. “You are mine,” he rasped. “Say it!” he growled, plunging hard and fast. “Say it and it will be so.”

Blair arched her hips and cried out, “I’m yours!”

Three

The orgasm tore through Blair’s body and she gasped, thrusting her hips against the sheets. When she could breathe again she lay panting and frightened. She’d never had such dreams and now they seemed to be gaining in strength and intensity.

She shook it off and thought it might have something to do with the sea air. Blair went back to sleep and rose just as sunlight filtered through the moldy curtains. She yanked on her boots and went downstairs to where Mr. Haines had spent a fitful night on the sofa.

Both the worse for wear, Mr. Haines called for a cab and this time they were picked up in under an hour and driven back to their hotel where they slept off the restless dregs of a night spent in hell. This time Blair got her sleep.

When she awoke, it was late in the afternoon and she ordered a light lunch and took a long, hot bath. Blair took the opportunity to think about the house. It needed quite a bit of work. And she had the money…

“I don’t know,” she muttered to herself. “Is it worth it?”

One thing was certain: Blair wasn’t going back to that house alone. She didn’t care what Mr. Haines said. It
was
haunted! All the time she was there she could feel eyes burning into her, roaming over her body, and she could have sworn she heard a man’s laughter after the door slammed in her face.