Carrying Her Millionaire's Baby. Sophie Pembroke
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to be better than water right now.
As they grew closer, Ash could make out the outline of a wooden villa at the water’s edge, the traditional stilts meaning it was half over the ocean and half on land. The roof looked to be the usual thatch, and he recognised the terrace layout from the photos of the recently acquired property he’d been looking at a few days before. This was the place they’d been searching for.
Best of all, there was even a mooring point for the boat. Ash just hoped it would hold overnight.
Once the wedding was over, Zoey was going to want to leave again, after all. Well, eventually, anyway.
Getting the boat moored securely was a battle in itself as the threatened rain began to fall.
‘Run up to the house,’ he yelled at Zoey, his throat sore with the effort of getting her to hear over the storm. But Zoey shook her head, her wet hair whipping around her as she held on tight to one of the stern lines as he crossed them to tie up.
Stubborn. Just like Grace. No wonder they’d been such good friends.
Finally, finally, the yacht was as secure as he could make it. He’d just have to hope that was as secure as it needed to be. It was too late to do any more. The wind that had been steadily rising had reached a screaming pitch now, whistling and screeching through the trees and across the water. Looking back out to sea, Ash couldn’t tell where the rain stopped and the waves started.
‘Come on.’ Grabbing Zoey’s hand, he dragged her up from the small jetty towards the front door of the villa, already dreaming of what they’d find inside as he fumbled for the hidden key and tried to recall the security code he’d saved on his phone.
This place was perfect. Ash had read all the specs on the flight out. The villa was the newest jewel in his father’s property crown, freshly refurbished to Arthur Carmichael’s exacting standards. If a person had to take refuge from a storm and a potentially furious bridegroom, this was the spot.
He flung open the doors.
Zoey crashed into his back as he stopped, still on the threshold, and stared in.
Okay. So this place would be perfect. Once the renovation was actually finished.
‘Can we get inside already?’ Zoey asked. Ash could feel her shaking, shivering with cold as she pressed against him.
The storm was on them. There was no going back.
‘You might wish you’d stayed and married David,’ he muttered as he moved aside to let her in.
Zoey pushed past him, then stopped in the middle of what Ash assumed would be the lounge. Eventually.
‘So, when you said that this place had just been refurbished...’ She turned around slowly, taking in the room. Ash winced. Even in the darkness of the storm raging outside, he knew this didn’t look good.
‘I might have been a little optimistic.’
He tried to see the villa through her eyes. The half-built kitchen area off to one side. The random pieces of wood stacked up against the far wall. The windows still covered in tape but no blinds. The complete lack of furniture.
Zoey sighed. ‘I suppose it’s too much to hope for a fully stocked drinks cabinet, then?’
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