Page 34 of Bargain with the Bachelor
Chapter Nine
Friends and Housemates
Kristal
What a stupid plan.
My bike glided to a stop, and I set my feet on the ground, standing astride the bicycle and giving the billionaire bachelor house an uneasy once-over.
The mansion itself was gorgeous, a brick Tudor revival. An impressive arched alcove entry was surrounded by historic stonework and topped by an intricately carved stone crest.
On either side of it, rows of tall, leaded glass windows let in the light and featured colorful stained-glass inserts.
Though from the outside the spectacular manor home looked like a single residence, I knew it had been divided into five condominiums with a shared central gathering space for parties, or in the case of these guys, for use as a common work area.
They must have all been home at the moment because it looked like I’d stumbled upon a luxury car show or a billionaires’ convention with all the pricey, flashy sportscars parked in the circular front drive.
What was I thinking?
My belly swam like a tide pool full of minnows. Was I really doing this? Perhaps the more important question was… could I affordnotto? Inexpensive accommodations in this town were rare—free was a godsend.
Not that Hunter was a god.
He mightlooklike one, but he was definitely human and in possession of flaws just like everyone else. I just hadn’t located his yet, unless you counted overt confidence.
Brilliant, charming, and incredibly good looking, he must have hadsomenegative qualities.
No doubt living with him would reveal them in short order. Familiarity bred contempt, right?
Very few people gotbetterupon closer inspection—I’d learned that lesson well thanks to Harry.
And skyrocketing from modest means to having billions of dollars at your disposal didn’t typicallyimprovesomeone’s personality, though I had to admit, Hunter had been pretty darn charming Friday night.
As we’d sat together in the deserted restaurant, chatting and sharing the obscenely priced wine, I hadn’t been able to prevent myself from marveling over the changes the years had made in him.
Like a master artisan, time had layered just the right amount of weight onto his frame, turning tall and thin into muscular and manly, and chiseling the most appealing laugh lines at the sides of his eyes and mouth.
I hadn’t consumed nearly enough wine to affect my judgement, so I could only blame my extreme attraction to him for knocking me off kilter long enough for me to say “yes” when I probably should have said “no” to his absurd suggestion.
I’d gone home that night and promptly dreamed about the amazing kiss we’d shared—in glorious detail—and had done so every night since then.
In fact, some of my dreams had taken it farbeyondkissing.
It was mortifying and completely inappropriate, but what could I do? Dreams were dreams.
I banished the butterflies that insisted on parading a circle around my belly button every time I thought of that look in Hunter’s eye when he’d declared Harry an idiot.
What had he meant? Was he speaking in general terms? (In which case I wholeheartedly agreed) Or had he been referring specifically to the kissing thing?
It doesn’t matter.
When I got to know Hunter better, this ridiculous crush I seemed to have developed would pass, and we’d live platonically ever after—or at least for the next few weeks.
We weren’t likely to see a ton of each other anyway—he was busy running a company.
I would stay busy as well, working at the Cliffhouse, looking for a new job, and trying to squeeze in some photography. I was still trying to help the Guild’s interim director get up to speed too, so all my free time would be filled.
Besides, we might be sharing a house, but it was abighouse—seventeen thousand square feet divided into five individual units. It wasn’t like we’d be under each other’s noses all the time.
