“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 Ihadagreed. 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.
“I’d like that,” I admitted.
He surprised me by moving up beside me and reaching for my hand, pulling me along to the suite, where we separated to change into swimsuits.
We moved together without speaking, out of the suite and down the nearby stairs to the terrace level, where we could exit through the fitness room doors to the pool deck. I’d spent plenty of time today touring the house with Concetta, so I’d already learned this shortcut. Watching him take it reminded me of all the times he’d been here before.
I imagined him as a kid, sneaking into hiding spots in a game with his sister. As a teen, lifting weights to impress a girl. As a young adult, most likely bored to be with the older set instead of somewhere more exciting.
It was almost impossible to see Locke as someone other than who he was. A too-serious businessman hell-bent on ruling everyone and everything around him. Someone too rigid to enjoy himself and let go, even for a little while.
Fuck. That.
“Best cannonball wins!” I declared, dropping my towel, yanking off my shirt, and taking a flying leap into the air off the edge of the pool deck. I soared into the cool night air, feeling the chill against my skin and hoping like hell he hadn’t been lying about the pool being heated. When I reached the apex of the jump, I curled into a ball and flipped, wrapping my arms around my wide knees as quickly as I could before hitting the water with my shins and face.
Over-rotated.
When I came up for air to assess the damage my splash caused, I saw Locke standing at the edge of the pool with his mouth open in shock.
I let out a wet laugh, flicking my hair back and wiping my face. “Don’t tell me you don’t know what a cannonball is.”
