BILLIONAIRE Island: Idyllic Mischief by Savannah May Read Free Book Online Page A

night then.” Damn Damien, got back into his truck and started the engine with the door still open. Heart plopped back into gut, Indie turned to get into the car, wishing she could think of something, that her mind hadn't totally wiped out.
    “Hey Sasha, how's the skiing?” Damien suddenly looked up from the wheel and called through the door.
    “Bit out of practice since Tolar smashed up the boat.”
    “Bad luck about that. Do you fancy going out tomorrow?”
    “I, er, sure.” Sasha was really confused now, very unlike her normal stance.
    “Great. Come over tomorrow about four.”
    “To the hotel?”
    “No, come to the house. And bring your friend.” With that instruction Damn floored the gas and wheeled the truck around before remembering to pull the door closed.
    “Trust you,” Sasha said as she wheeled her own car around toward the deserted road. “First day here and you reel in the hottest guy on the island.”
    “Him? He's hot I guess, but he works in a hotel.”
    “He owns a hotel. Or twenty. And his father is the most powerful man in Mauritius. Oh, I can't wait-I've never been invited to his beach house. No one ever gets inside those hallowed portals.”

 
     
    Chapter Five
    Damien
    Merde . What the fuck is wrong with me? I'm so pissy about that woman I can hardly think and I never get wound up about women. Women are good for one thing and I don't care if that sounds harsh, I can't help it, I just don't want them close to me. But that one, Polly-Anna, she got me so riled up in that slink of tiny dress covering that steaming body, I'm still fucking pissed. I should have pulled her back into the stall and got between those naked thighs because then I wouldn't have been imagining it the rest of the night. I was so angry about I don't even know what, I virtually shoved Laurent out of the cab when I dropped him off at his place. Fuck that too, what am I going to do about him living in that house? She's got me so tense my jaw is actually aching. There are a thousand women on the island, what's the big deal about this one.
    She's just so- I dunno- real. She's as gorgeous as heaven on earth but she doesn't know it. I love how she says she's just a clothes horse, standing around all day having pins stuck in her, downplaying the New York model thing that most of them play up. Fuck it, that one I met on the beach last week doing a shoot for Vogue, what was her name, Camber, or something, could not stop looking at herself long enough to look at me. Even when I was fucking her, she was looking at herself over her shoulder in the reflection in the glass door to the terrace. Then she walked around the house like an auctioneer, pricing everything up as though she was planning her divorce payout already. Fat chance little bitch. Great tits, tits you just wanna mound in your fist and grind, but the rest of her bored me stiff, not in a good way.
    Polly is different alright, but there was something about her, something held back. She was hurting somewhere inside I know it. I got the delicate sense of a person wounded and moving tenderly through the world to keep themselves safe. And for once I loved that, it was so adorable. I didn't want to take it and crush it, just the opposite, I had the overwhelming and uncomfortable urge to put my arms around her and protect her from everything forever. I have never in my life looked forward to seeing a woman like I'm dying to see her tomorrow, at least not that I can remember.
    So when Faustine tapped lightly on my door and whispered was I awake, I should have kept quiet, let her think I was asleep already. But I was too mad. Mad at everyone and everything without knowing why so I told her to come in, even though I knew what her game was. She sat down casual enough, although the bottle of tequila in her hand should have been a bit of a clue.
    “How's it going?” I asked, casual as next Tuesday. “Liking the new job?” Fuck, I wished I hadn't brought that up. Right now, the last