Total pages in book: 108
Estimated words: 101840 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 509(@200wpm)___ 407(@250wpm)___ 339(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 101840 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 509(@200wpm)___ 407(@250wpm)___ 339(@300wpm)
The call ended.
I was crushed. She was right. I’d overreacted. I’d been so distracted by the goddamned go-go boy in my garden, I hadn’t had my head on straight.
I shot her a text apologizing, but I knew she wouldn’t accept it for at least a couple of days.
Accusing her of doing something our father had been notorious for was unforgivable.
And she wasn’t even the Maris currently sleeping with an employee.
16
JETT
Dinner was awkward as fuck.
Locke seemed off in his head somewhere and uninterested in conversation. After trying and failing for the third time to engage him in conversation, I finally pulled out my phone and started reading through a memoir I’d been enjoying earlier.
Was it bad table manners? Absolutely.
Would Mav have made me do the dishes for a week for reading my phone at the dinner table? Yes. Even at age twenty-six.
Did I feel one shred of guilt? Nope.
The faint scrape of Locke’s utensils was the only noise. I enjoyed the tender beef medallions with one hand while turning my page with the other. The Syrian refugee protagonist was now out of the boat and in the dark water.
“Vraj doesn’t eat meat,” Locke said.
I blinked up at him. “Correct. Neither does Selene Mercier. Roberto has it under control.”
“Mm.” He returned to his meal.
I watched him for another few moments until it was clear he was in his head again. Then I returned to reading.
When he was finished, he cleared his throat. “Did you have a nice day?”
I glanced up at him. “Me?”
His forehead crinkled as he gazed at me. “Yes. You.”
“Oh. Er. Sure? Yes. In fact, I did. This is a lovely property, and you have a kind staff. It must be a joy to come here regularly.”
Locke nodded and looked back down at his now-empty plate. Then he moved his fork around a little. If I hadn’t been put in my place so emphatically earlier today, I might have helped him out of this awkward moment. Volunteered more about the day or asked him about his. But it was clear that wasn’t what he expected of me. Or wanted.
I glanced back out at the sea, forgetting the doors were closed tonight because of a too-strong breeze and a chilly temperature.
My phone glowed from its spot under the table, resting on my thigh.
As soon as I gave up and snuck another glance at the page in the book, he spoke again, nearly causing me to jump.
“I thought about taking a swim after dinner.”
What the fuck was he doing right now? This was excruciating. I tilted my head at him. “It might be cold.”
“The pool is heated.”
“Ah.”
A young woman named Zuri came out from the kitchen, apologizing profusely for the delay. “I didn’t realize you were finished with your meal. Pardon me.”
I waved her off. “It’s fine.”
She shot me a grin. “Are you ready for cake and coffee?”
“Not yet,” Locke said stiffly. “Maybe in about an hour. We’ll let you know.”
There was an awkward moment as her eyes flicked to me as if wondering whether the boss spoke for both of us. I gave her a reassuring smile and a shrug. It was fine. The boss was the boss.
Zuri’s smile dropped as she ducked her head in a combination bow and nod. “Yes, sir. Whenever you prefer.”
Once she’d removed our dishes to the kitchen and was completely out of earshot, I inhaled and exhaled carefully. “Pro tip, Locke. Being an asshole to your staff is an excellent way to lose them or, at the very least, lose their vaunted loyalty.”
Then I stood up and dropped my napkin on the place mat in front of my chair. “Good night.”
He let me get all the way to the end of the adjacent living room before he spoke. “Stop.”
It wasn’t angry or abrupt. It was soft like a plea. I didn’t turn around.
“Please,” he added after too long a pause. “Wait.”
I forced myself to stand still. Not bolt to the bedroom in anger. Not turn and snap at him. Not drop to my hands and knees and beg him to fuck me. And not beg him to tell me why the hell he was so goddamn mercurial.
Locke’s body stepped close enough for me to feel the heat of it through the thin cotton of my shirt. But he didn’t touch me.
“Will you please join me for a swim? I need some exercise, and I’d really like your company.”
The scent of his cologne surprised me. It wasn’t just the scent of his bodywash. It was more. Like he’d made an actual effort.
For sex.
I reminded myself this wasn’t a romance. It was an agreement for sex. Or, at the very most, seduction.
But I had agreed. And to be honest, I wanted it. I’d ached for him all day. I wasn’t proud of it, but that was the truth. I wanted his hands on me more than I wanted to protect my ego or pride.