Her Highland Master (The Dungeon Fantasy Club Book 1) Read Online Free PDF Page A

under wraps as much as possible. Still apprehensive, she cautiously shifted until she was facing Declan. She almost sagged in relief as she watched him wrap himself into a silk robe.
    "Thank you," Zoey responded, feeling grateful. He had made sure she didn't suffer from hypothermia. She really owed him. She hated feeling indebted to anyone. It was owing someone a favor that had tanked her career.
    Declan nodded at her thanks and murmured, "Follow me to the library, Ms. Mills, and we will get the situation figured out."
    She trailed behind him, mindful of the robe, careful that she didn't trip. He had a long stride and she had to take three steps to his one just to keep up. She studied him from behind. Declan was thick in form, all muscled; his body harkened back to another era when men swung battleaxes and broadswords. Declan stopped in front of—she couldn't believe it—an elevator, in a home?
    She followed him into the enclosed space and was acutely aware of his presence. He strutted in front of her with the confident ease of a man who was inherently familiar with acquiring what he wanted and never being told no. Zoey had always avoided wealthy men, on principle. Living with Hollywood practically in her backyard, she had seen what oodles of money could turn a man into, a stuck-up ass who believed he was God's gift to the universe, and who went through women like some men changed socks.
    Zoey never considered herself claustrophobic, but distinctly felt the enclosed space around them shrink as Declan studied her. She knew she must look a fright, like a drowned cat. And what must he think of her, kissing him like that?
    She followed him off the elevator to the right, down a decadently decorated hall with gorgeous works of art. Zoey wondered if they were the real deal, not some reproduced knockoff. They entered a room at the end of the hall that was a sort of multi-purpose room. Grand white shelves lined the ivory walls, housing all manner of books, from dime store novels to hardcover editions. At the opposite end of the room were resplendent leather sofas and matching chairs, set before a blazing marble fireplace.
    The dancing flames of the fire drew her deeper into the room, where she noticed a rich mahogany table with matching chairs positioned next to large windows. She was sure that, first thing in the morning, with the sun streaming in on a cold winter's day, having breakfast next to a roaring fire while sunlight lit the room would be a marvelous experience.
    "Why don't you warm yourself by the fire, while I go get dressed and make a call. I'll have Mrs. Stewart send some food up with Jared, and then you can tell me how an American girl finds herself alone in the Highlands of Scotland."
    "I can do that," she replied. He wasn't going to toss her out on her rear—not yet, anyway—and she might get a meal out of it. Her stomach growled. She had not had time to stop for lunch. In a world of women who dieted and forgot to eat, Zoey rarely skipped a meal. She actually hated women who would take two bites of salad and say they were full. What the hell did they eat, air? She wanted food, and while she was health conscious, keeping her meals to mainly healthy options, she didn't pass up an opportunity to eat a bacon cheeseburger or pizza, either. Maybe she was a bit fleshier in her butt and thighs, but she could still run five miles a day.
    "There's a phone over there if you need to call for a tow or a hotel." Declan pointed to a desk they had passed as he left her alone.
    And with that, her happy delusion burst. She wasn't going to be invited to stay here for the night, but would be forced back out into the storm. She only prayed she could get a truck to come out in this weather.
    Nearly tripping over the robe she made it to the desk, picked up the old style receiver, and dialed the operator, since all of the information for her reservations were in the rental car.
    As far as Zoey was concerned, she never should have left