When he didn’t answer, Helen opened her mouth to speak but aborted several times.Good. She’d gotten the not-so-subtle hint and remembered his warning that his father’s death wasn’t ever to be discussed. Now, all Seb had to do was remind her they werepretendingto be a couple, and that it would only be for a few more weeks before he—
“Sebastian, I was devastated when my dad died. Not a day goes by that I don’t think about him … or Ada. I know what it’s like to grieve someone so if—”
“Leave it, Helen.” His words came out harsher than he intended and she recoiled like he’d slapped her. “I don’t want to talk about it.”
They drove the rest of the way in silence, and by the time he parked the car, Seb’s knuckles were white and cramping.
He took a deep breath. “Look, at some point over the past few weeks, we’ve lost sight that we’re supposed to be working together. We shouldn’t get personal.”
“We’ve had sex a million times, Sebastian. We’re already pretty personal.”
“Well, we shouldn’t anymore. Things between us are getting too … unprofessional and we need to focus on the job—”
“The job? We’re back to that now? Okay. Fine.” She pushed the door open. “I’m the hired help and you’re my source of income.”
“I didn’t mean it that way.”
“Then what did you mean? That it’s okay for you to get to know me but I can’t get to know you because you’re the boss?”
“No.”
“Bollocks. That’s exactly what you mean.” She got out and slammed the door.
He did the same and strode after her. “All thistalkingandfeelings. We agreed to just sex.”
“And we also agreed to remain friends and treat each other with respect.” Helen jabbed her key in the lock and pushed through to the kitchen. “You’re brushing me off. Waving your contract and rules in my face like … like what we’ve done together didn’t mean a thing to you. If you want to end it, fine, but respect me enough to give me a proper explanation.” She headed out toward her bedroom, then stopped halfway. “Or are you afraid I’ll charge you overtime for the sex?”
Seb grit his teeth. “Now, you’re insulting both of us.”
“Yes, and now you know how it feels.”
She disappeared down the hall, leaving Seb desperate to ram his fist through the table.
Fuck.
She was fucking impossible being fucking right all the fucking time.
He stalked upstairs to his room then realized all his stuff was in Helen’s.
How had he slipped into her life so easily?
And how had he let things get so damned messy?
Cursing his own foolishness, he paced his room then pressed his forehead against the cool window when he saw Helen storming through the garden to lock up her hens. On the way back, she headed into the old building where she kept her punching bag.
The quiet of his room blared in his brain.
Now what?
When Seb was a child, he’d hated that deathly silence that followed a shouting match between his parents. He’d sit on his bed, frightened and alone. No one addressed the fights with him. No one told him they weren’t his fault. No one explained.
Right. An explanation.
Seb did respect Helen. So much. And yet—he’d thought he could simply set some rules and expect her to simply obey, no questions asked?
He headed downstairs and through the garden to the old building, peered inside. Helen was bouncing on her toes, guarding up as she evaded an invisible attack. When she clocked him, she drove a hit hard in the sack’s center.
“I guess I deserved that.”
