The words come out defensive. But all I can see is Georgie in the Land Rover, looking at me like she couldn’t understand what she’d done wrong.
She hadn’t done anything wrong. I had.
Mary hums, still sorting cards. “Well, it’s good she’s keen. Linda from housekeeping hasn’t shut up about that demo. Means we’ll get it sooner if she keeps at it.”
I frown. “The housekeeping demo went well?”
“We were impressed. Much better than that disaster with the kitchen.” She glances up. “Though I heard she sorted that too eventually.”
I’d been so focused on keeping my distance that I’d missed how the work was progressing. I’d convinced myself the sooner she finished this project and left Skye, the better off we’d both be.
But the memory keeps ambushing me. Her hands on my skin. The sounds she made.
I’d pounced like a starving wolf on someone who deserved better than my appetite.
Like I had any right to put my hands on her.
There aren’t many women I’ve wanted who I’ve had to wrestle myself away from. Maybe that’s the worst part—I can’t tell if I wanted her more because of how she made me feel… or because the challenge lit up some rotten part of me that likes what it can’t have, despite all my fucking so-called morals and bro-code to Jake.
“Right,” I grunt. “Better check how she’s getting on.”
That’s what any responsible boss would do.
Five minutes later, I’m standing outside what I generously call her “office.” Now that I’m looking at it, the damn thing’s barely bigger than a broom closet. She’s wedged between filing cabinets and toilet paper inventory.
When the hell did I approve this?
I rap my knuckles against the open door.
She glances up from her laptop, and her eyes go wide. Then she pastes on a tight smile.
This woman—thisemployee—had her small hand wrapped around my bare cock. I suppress a groan. At least I didn’t come in her palm.
“Hey.” I clear my throat, feeling like I’m crowding her space just by standing here. “Mary says you’ve been working hard back here.”
“Mary’s lovely.” She swivels to face me fully, hands folded in her lap. “Very generous with her praise.”
She waits, eyebrows raised politely. Making me work for whatever I came here to say.
“What can I do for you, Patrick?”
“The housekeeping team’s thrilled with the system. Mary says it’s made an impression.”
“That’s wonderful.” Another polite nod, another practiced smile.
Bloody hell. When did talking to my own employee become torture?
Stupid question. I know exactly when—right around the time I shoved my tongue down her throat.
I shift against the doorframe. “What are you working on?”
She glances at her screen, bites her lip, then looks back at me. “I’m finalizing the implementation plan. All deliverables are aligned with Craig’s specified timeline. We remain on schedule.”
There’s a bite in the way she says his name. Probably not even deliberate. But clear enough. She doesn’t like him.
“Can I see it?”
“According to the project hierarchy, demos go through Craig. I wouldn’t want to create confusion about the chain of command… or risk overstepping.” Her fingers tremble as she taps the trackpad. But she still looks me dead in the eye.
