Free BTW: I Love You (Mills & Boon M&B) (One Hot Fling - Book 1) by Heidi Rice Page B

wanted her. And he didn’t know how to deal with that.
    He didn’t rely on other people—ever—especially women. He didn’t ask for or expect anything and if they asked for anything from him in return, he usually bolted straight for the door.
    He wasn’t interested in anything serious. Anything long-term. And he didn’t want that with Maddy either. He hated that choking, claustrophobic feeling that came with any hint of commitment. A lot of things had changed since the accident, but not that. He needed his freedom. And he always would.
    But how did you ask a woman you barely knew if they would be interested in a purely sexual relationship? He’d been trying to get his head around that one when the thought of Maddy and Phil working in close proximity had sent him crashing through another barrier.
    It wasn’t that he cared about who Maddy had been with before him. It couldn’t be. He didn’t do jealousy. And he wasn’t possessive with women. He expected them to be faithful for the brief time they were together, but he always wore condoms so he didn’t take any interest in their sexual history.
    Turning into the driveway of Trewan Manor, he eased up the handbrake, switched off the ignition and stared into the darkness.
    The need to know about Maddy and Phil had to be another by-product of the accident and the trauma afterwards. His pride and his confidence had been shattered in the last six months and it would take more than one night to rebuild it.
    He dug his thumb into his injured muscles to ease the painful cramp—while keying the beach café’s number into the hands-free phone on the car’s dash. First things first. Before he saw Maddy again and figured out a way of engineering her back into his bed, he had to address a more pressing problem.
    Phil answered on the second ring.
    ‘Phil, it’s Rye.’
    ‘How’s things, stranger?’ Phil’s voice had the easy familiarity of long-time friendship. ‘Still hiding out at Hell Hall?’
    ‘Yeah,’ Rye said drolly, not rising to the bait. ‘I need to drop by the café tomorrow morning,’ he continued, determined to head off yet another conversation about how he needed to get out more. ‘What time’s the early shift start?’
    He wanted to be sure Maddy would be there.
    ‘The breakfast service starts at nine,’ Phil said.
    Rye tapped the steering wheel, surprised by the little spurt of anticipation. ‘Great, I’ll see you at …’
    ‘Wait a sec,’ Phil cut in, suspicion sharpening his voice. ‘What’s the hurry, all of a sudden?’
    ‘I’ve got a bike that belongs to one of your employees I need to drop off.’
    ‘What employee?’
    ‘Madeleine Westmore.’
    ‘How do you know Maddy?’
    ‘It’s a long story,’ Rye stated flatly, not appreciating the third degree—or the tiny tinge of guilt.
    Phil swore on the other end of the line. ‘Please tell me you’re not treating Maddy to the Ryan King Do ‘em and Dump ‘em routine.’
    Rye’s temper sparked. He’d coined that insulting phrase fifteen years ago, when he’d been sixteen, had turbo-charged hormones and thought boasting about all the women he got into the sack made him a man. ‘We’re not in secondary school any more, Phil.’
    ‘Too right we’re not,’ Phil interrupted forcefully. ‘Leave her alone, Rye; she doesn’t play those kind of games.’
    ‘What games?’ Rye demanded, something sour settling in his gut. Since when had free-wheeling Phil become the protective sort? Had Maddy lied to him about the two of them?
    ‘You know what games,’ Phil said, then sighed. ‘Look, mate, she’s a good friend and a great waitress. She worksreally hard and she got dumped on big time last year by some creep called Steve. The last thing she needs is a smooth-talking, over-sexed big shot from London using her for sport.’
    Rye would have laughed at Phil’s insulting assessment of him—the
over-sexed
reference being particularly ironic—if the sour something in his gut hadn’t