Caribbean Crush Read Online R.S. Grey

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Billionaire, Contemporary Tags Authors:
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Total pages in book: 103
Estimated words: 98345 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 492(@200wpm)___ 393(@250wpm)___ 328(@300wpm)
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“Smart. We’re so early on. Barely one destination in! Best to get it checked out so you can be on the mend.” She steps closer and lowers her voice. “I was hoping we’d still manage to go out on the town tonight with Ricardo, but if . . .”

“I’ll keep you posted,” I promise. “I bet I’ll be good as new in no time.”

She grins. “Want me to come with?”

“No. Stay. Go enjoy the rest of the picnic. I’ll knock on your door later.”

She doesn’t look convinced, and I’m actually touched that she’d be willing to forfeit all the fun of the afternoon to be by my side, considering we only met yesterday. “Are you sure?”

“Positive.”

Phillip touches my shoulder in an effort to get us going again. I slip off to collect my things, and then we walk the last leg of the journey back to where the golf carts are parked. He points to the black one nearest us.

“This is Ricardo’s cart,” I note, like it matters.

“Ricardo?”

“My tour guide for the day.” When he doesn’t say anything, I tack on, “He was nice. Is he employed through your company?”

“We hire local vendors at all the ports. It ensures a more authentic experience for our guests. We try to ensure they’ve really got the lay of the land.”

When we’re beside the cart, I drop my bag on the seat and rifle through it for my sundress. I feel Phillip’s gaze on me, watching me as I unfold it and slip it on. I adjust it at my waist and look up just as he looks away.

“Are you ready?” he asks, a tight set to his jaw.

“I’m happy to drive myself.”

He ignores this and takes the seat behind the wheel. I have no choice but to slide in next to him. All day, I sat beside Ricardo as he drove us around, but it didn’t feel like this. There’s half a foot of space between Phillip’s thigh and my leg, and it’s like I’ve just been slid into a furnace. It doesn’t help that we’re alone.

“For the record, I don’t think this is necessary.”

He doesn’t take his eyes off the road. “I do.”

“And what you say goes?”

“Usually,” he says, not even bothering to conceal the beginnings of a cheeky smile. He likes his lot in life, that’s for sure.

“Except when pesky little journalists come knocking?”

He throws his head back with a laugh. “Exactly, Ms. Hughes. Exactly.”

“I’m hardly the first person to give it to you straight, I’m sure. Tyson seems to have an open, honest relationship with you.”

His gaze seers me, though I don’t get the sense that there’s much anger behind it, just curiosity. “Did you enjoy picking his brain at breakfast? Trying to gain information on me?”

“I did, actually. All of the social prowess you lack, Tyson seems to have in spades.”

“Watch it.”

“Or what? You won’t give me an interview? That’s already off the table. It seems like there’s nothing left to do but to needle you, and it just so happens that I enjoy it immensely.”

“Are you always so difficult?”

“Pfft. Never. At work? I’m a wallflower.”

“Impossible.”

I nod to prove my point. “I barely say two words. When I make it into the office, I’m stuffed in a tiny cubicle.”

He turns a corner, and a car veers slightly into our lane. With lightning-fast reflexes, Phillip reaches out to band his arm in front of me, a human seat belt. Though it wasn’t necessary. He barely had to swerve.

He hisses a curse under his breath and takes ahold of the steering wheel with both hands before asking, “And how are you with your friends? The ringleader?”

It’s hard not to bristle at the word friends. “I’m a lone wolf these days.”

We could leave it at that. We’re venturing into personal territory, and he’s the one who’d rather keep things surface level between us. Instead, he studies me out of the corner of his eye, as if this reply doesn’t quite sit right with him. “Why?” he presses.

“It just sort of happened that way. Just . . . the phase of life I’m in.” I could put the kibosh on this entire conversation, but instead, I make a conscious decision to proceed with caution, to open up in a way that might be reciprocated down the line. “My friends are mostly settled, married, expecting children. Meanwhile, I’m not. More than that, I’ve found myself in a tricky spot, not that you’d understand.” I can’t fight the urge to roll my eyes. Envy bleeds into my tone. “You couldn’t even imagine my life at the moment, living out of hotels.”

His brow furrows as he tries to keep up. “Because you travel so much for work?”

Now I’m the one laughing. “Oh, I wish it were because of that. No, I’m not moaning about too many exciting travel assignments. I’m currently homeless, I guess, for lack of a better word.”



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