“And did you tell him no parties, or that he can’t have people over? Because it looks like it’s all off-duty men of ours, so nobody would have had to come through the gates.”
Pulling the curtains closed, I try to channel my annoyance into a more productive emotion, to no avail.
“Why are you encouraging him?” I finally manage to redirect my anger to Misha, who’s backing out of the office slowly but still smirking.
“I’m not encouraging him.”
“Youare,and—”
“Ido, however, find him amusing, mainly because I think he’s going to annoy the fuck out of you while he’s here.AndI think you’ll be better for it. Besides, you’re too tense. You need to let loose. It’s been too long since you’ve been to the club.”
Hecannotbe suggesting…
“Use him for some stress relief. He followed you around every chance he got in Florida. See if he’ll let you—shit!”
Finally, I hit my mark, and Misha leaves, nursing his temple where my stress ball connected. Sighing, I turn back to the window, the muffled sounds of frivolity growing louder as the party gets thoroughly underway. I have emails to reply to, and I’ve been wanting to take advantage of the huge bathtub in my suite anyway. I’ll give them the few hours it should take me to finish before I confront the troublemaker.
“Nice party.”
“Ah!”
I step back to avoid the splash from Thatcher falling into the pool, biting back a laugh. It wasn’t myintentionto startle him, per se, but I’m not displeased at the outcome. He hops back out with the agility Misha was so complimentary of and shakes himself off. The effect isn’t unlike a golden retriever, with his blond curls and dimpled grin.He’s not a dog, Mila. He’s a thorn in your side.
“Hi, Boss.”
“I’m not your boss.”
“Misha said while I was here, you were, and that you’d like it if I called you Boss!”
Oh, I am so reminding Misha of this the next time we spar in the gym.
“I really would prefer it if you called me Mila.” For some reason, this seems to please him even more than calling me Boss, and he stands a smidge taller, still flashing his double-dimpled smile. “Grab a towel and walk with me, please.”
The sun is setting, and the party is winding down on its own, so I have nothing to gain from shutting it down. I can see some wariness from the New York crew as Thatcher and I move toward the house, but instead of showing my displeasure, I offer what I hope are respectful nods. Clearly, I’m not here to take part in the party, wearing my usual uniform of long black pants, black shirt, combat boots, and my wet hair in a braid down my back…but I can still show that I’m notmadat their party.
Even if I am. At least a bit.
“I’m sorry about—”
“Deliberately misinterpreting the very few rules I laid out for you while you’re staying in my home?”
He manages to look regretful for a solid two seconds before one corner of his mouth turns up again.
“Yeah. That. I’m sorry about deliberately misinterpreting the very few rules you laid out for me while I’m staying in your home.Mila.” My name sounds forbidden on his lips, and I turn on my heel to lead him into the house before he can continue. I wish he’d put a shirt on, anything to cover more than the fuckingSpeedohe’s wearing, but he seems perfectly content to waltz around almost naked. I guess he’s comfortable in his own skin, given the abs, and the glutes, and the…oh, screw this.
“Apology accepted. Misha mentioned that one of the guys is loaning you some clothing. I’ll give you the delivery address foranything else you might need. Not all the bedrooms are fully furnished, but this one has everything you should need, plus its own bathroom. The decor is apparently from the previous owner’s veryparticularinterior designer and—”
“Holyshit, red latex? This room is hot! Are you putting me in the sex dungeon room?” He spins in a full circle in the center of the room before turning back to me, looking pleased. “Is this because you think I’m sexy and need a super-sexy room? For all my sexiness?”
Jesus,he’s drunker than I realized. And now that he mentions it, maybe this roomistoo sexy for him. And far, far too close to mine.
“On second thought, maybe you’d be better off with more space to yourself. Let’s go.” Weaving through the hallways I only know after studying the blueprints of this house for weeks, I take Thatcher to a wing on the other side of the house. Ithinkthis was once for the children and staff, and everything here is clean. Although less grand, it’scompletelyfree of red latex.
He takes in the largest bedroom in this wing, pulling a sheet off a chair in the corner and sneezing as a dust cloud puffs up into his face.
“I’ll have it cleaned as soon as possible, of course—”
“This is perfect, my own wing! Party wing, let’s go! And this room is huge. There’s so much room for activities. It smells a little musty, but that’s okay. I love candles, and a few burning in here for a while will make it nice and fresh.”
