The Billionaire Takes All (The Sinclairs #5)

“I think I need to feed you,” Julian remarked with mirth in his voice.

Kristin wasn’t sure she was hungry, but as Julian carefully untangled their bodies and stood, she took his extended hand to let him get her on her feet.

“Whoa,” she murmured as she felt the effects of the alcohol she’d been consuming all night. Her balance was still off, but she felt a burst of euphoria as she leaned against the hard, male chest in front of her. “Sorry.”

“Shower time,” Julian pronounced as he swung her naked body up into his powerful arms. “Then food.”

“Okay,” she happily agreed, snuggling into his warmth as he headed for the bathroom.

On the way across the bedroom, Kristin noticed that the sun had fully risen, daylight flowing into the bedroom. It had to still be early morning, but she had no idea what time it was. But while she was being held by Julian, she couldn’t bring herself to care.



Somewhere between sleeping and waking up, Kristin figured out she was going to die.

Her gut rolled, and her head felt like it was in a vise. Everything hurt, and her mouth was as dry as the Sahara.

Okay . . . maybe she wasn’t going to die, but she certainly felt her body circling the drain.

“Oh, shit,” she groaned, trying to open her eyes, only to have the blinding sun make her slam them shut again.

Her scrambled mind tried to figure out where she was and why she was so sick.

The wedding.

Julian.

Alcohol. Lots and lots of alcohol.

Hangover?

She suddenly understood why she never drank to excess. Last night, she’d thrown every rule she’d ever made for herself right out a proverbial window along with her clothing.

She was stark naked, which, by itself, was alarming. She tried not to think about why she was minus her clothing, but she was pretty sure that answer would be terrifying. Some muscles in her body hurt that hadn’t been used in a very long time.

Forcing her eyes open, Kristin looked around the bedroom.

Julian’s room.

Memories came flooding back to her as she noticed a large bottled water on the bedside table and a couple of pills. She propped herself up on her elbow painfully and scooped up the handwritten note.

Kristin,

Lots of water to hydrate, and take the pills for your headache and body aches if you wake up feeling hungover. I left your pills for travel in the living room. Take two before you fly. I didn’t want to wake you, so I hitched a ride with Jared since I have to be on location very early in the morning on the East Coast.

We’ll talk as soon as I’m done filming and wrap this movie.

Don’t be stubborn. Take the pills and drink the entire bottle of water before you get up.

The only other thing in the missive was the number for her to call his pilot when she was ready to leave.

“What the hell time is it?” she wondered, glancing around for a clock.

Her eyes landed on the alarm clock on the dresser, and she squinted through her blurred vision to see the numbers.

“Four o’clock. Four p.m.,” she whispered in a startled voice, suddenly panicked because she knew she had to be back to work in the morning. “Everybody is gone.”

She opened the water and slammed back the pills, knowing she needed to get her wits about her as soon as possible.

“Coffee,” she said urgently, getting up painfully to go fix herself a cup in the small convenience kitchen.

Alternating water and coffee, she sat on the bed, trying to ignore the twisted bedcovers and the scent of sex that seemed to permeate Julian’s bedroom.

Calculating the time difference and how long it would take her to get ready and then fly home, she came to the conclusion she’d make it in plenty of time to get to work. But it didn’t stop the painful ache in her chest caused by not seeing Julian again before he left.

Honestly, she knew he had to leave or be late for his film shooting. The location was several states south of Maine, but the trip would be just as long. And saying it was early morning was putting things kindly. He had to be there for makeup by three a.m.

“The fairy tale is over, Cinderella. Time to turn back into a pumpkin again.”

She rose and drained her bottled water, tossing the container in the trash before picking up her coffee and heading toward her own bedroom.

There, she wouldn’t be reminded of what had happened in this bedroom.

There, she could escape the lingering smell of one hot encounter that had rocked her world.

There, she could transform herself into the woman she was really supposed to be.

She exited the room without looking back, firmly closing the door behind her.





CHAPTER 9




Three Weeks Later . . .

“I don’t know how to thank you for everything you’ve done here,” Kristin told Carl and Sandie sincerely.

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