“Yes, but as the guest, you’re under no obligation to conduct yourself according to a code of servitude,” he answers, narrowing his eyes at her in a way that makes me want to punch him. “Ms. Banks, however,is.”
“That will be all, Alfred,” I say, matching his tone.
We both stand perfectly still waiting for him to leave. When the door closes behind him, Emma lets out a long sigh and covers her face with one hand. “This is bad. Very bad.”
I stride over and take her hand away from her face, then gently lift her chin so she’s looking up at me. Giving her my best rogue smile, I say, “Is it really so awful for someone to know you slept with me?”
“This is serious, you big dope,” she says swatting my arm. “I’m supposed to be showing how responsible I am, not…doing very naughty things with our most important guest. If my brother finds out, he’s going to be furious with me.”
Wrapping my arms around her waist, I pull her near. “So what? My brothers and I spend most of our lives being angry with each other. Is it really worth giving up the greatest sex of your life for?”
Emma grins in spite of herself. “I said better than expected.”
“But you meant it was the greatest sex of your life. It was in the subtext,” I say, happy to see her smile again.
All too quickly, the line of worry reappears between her eyebrows. “We should stop,” she says, breaking away from me and pacing the room. “First of all, you really can’t afford to waste even a moment right now. It’s coming down to the wire here. You’re in a race to the finish, and if you lose…well, I don’t even want to think about that possibility. Those NBO hacks will ruin this perfectly amazing series,” she says with an indignation I can’t help but adore.
“See, when you say things like that, it makes it damn near impossible for me not to want to get you back into bed.”
“I’m trying to be serious here, Pierce. I didn’t spend the last two weeks typing until my wrists are killing me just so the world will get some third-rate version ofClash of Crowns. No, thank you. There’sno wayI’m going to let that happen, even if it means cutting you off from the most magnificently grand sex on the planet.”
“Do we really have to stop completely? There’s only so long each day I can write,” I say, but I can see my words aren’t registering, not with the look of panic on her face.
“Oh God, if anyone else finds out about this, I’ll never hear the end of it. I don’t know if I can trust Alfred and Phyllis farther than I could throw them. They might be a pair of old gossips for all I know. Shit. How am I supposed to convince my brother to hand over an entire restaurant to me if he thinks I’m going to be some loosey goosey rule breaker? I had this whole plan to get myself off this hellhole island and now…” She trails off, biting her thumbnail for a moment, completely lost in thought. “He did not put me through culinary school so I could end up in bed with every guest that happens to fancy me.”
Every guest?“Emma, do you think you might be panicking a little bit unnecessarily here? I highly doubt you’re going to end up in bed witheveryguest.”
Emma stops pacing and looks up at me. “Oh yeah? So far, I’ve slept with 100% of the guests I’ve served since I finished culinary school!100%, Pierce. Those are not good odds!”
I walk over and put my hand on her shoulder. “Emma, stop. It was one night. I promise you, you haven’t ruined your life. If they talk, you can always deny it. Big deal. We both walked out of the bedroom. So what? It’s not like he has video proof of us doing it on the counter or something.”
Emma points to her crumpled dress. “He saw that! He knows.”
“Maybe you’re messy. It’s his word against yours. And he may not say anything at all,” I say. “He doesn’t strike me as the type to gossip. He gets off on being a pious perfect servant. There’s no way he’s spilling anyone’s secrets. He’s more likely to hold his disapproval over you until the end of time.”
“Oh, much better,” she says sarcastically.
“It’ll be fine. You’re not planning to stay out here anyway.”
“True,” she says, nodding quickly.
There’s a shift in her mood and a budding hope rises in me that we can pick up where we left off before Alfred arrived. I lower my face to hers. “Everything will be okay, I promise.” I take her hand in mine and rub her wrist with my fingertips. “Did you say your hands are sore?”
She nods, looking up at me and shrugging. “A little, yes.”
“Here, let me help,” I say in a low tone, massaging her hand.
“Pierce. I’m serious, we can’t do this anymore.”
“I know. I heard every word you said, Emma, and I promise I’m not trying to get you back into bed,” I say, glancing at her pouty lips. “This is a professional courtesy hand massage.”
“It better stop at my elbows. I’m serious,” she says, her voice thick with lust.
“I promise not to give you a happy ending,” I answer, licking my lips.
“Good. I hate happy endings anyway,” Emma says, gazing into my eyes in a way that says she absolutely adores happy endings. “We’ll chalk last night up to cocktails and…the residual effect of working on a sex scene together.”
“Absolutely. We’ll take a giant step back to strictly business territory.”
