Page 17 of Contracted and Claimed By The Boss

A pang of worry radiated through Paige.

Amanda stomped towards her. ‘What are you doing here?’ she hissed, arms crossed, sullen expression more perfect than anything Paige could have pulled off back when she was acting.

‘Waiting for you. Isn’t that obvious?’

‘You should have waited in the car. I don’t need you to come in to get me. I’m not a baby.’

‘I didn’t come in,’ Paige pointed out.

Amanda rolled her eyes.

Paige couldn’t help saying, ‘I’ve never seen an Australian school. Want to give me a tour?’

Amanda shot her a withering glance. ‘No. I want to go home.’

‘Okay.’ Paige shrugged. ‘Can I carry your bag?’

Amanda looked as if her head were going to explode. ‘No.’

‘No, thank you,’ Paige reminded her gently, then wished she hadn’t, because Amanda’s mood was volatile and she switched quickly from angry to hurt, tears sheening her eyes.

‘Can we just go? Please?’ she tacked on with a little huff, so Paige’s arms stung with the desire to reach out and hug the girl close.

She didn’t.

Amanda was nowhere near ready for that.

‘Sure. Let’s go. You can tell me about your day in the car, if you feel like it.’

Amanda didn’t.

She sat quietly the whole way home and once they arrived Amanda jumped out of the car, slung her bag over one shoulder and stomped up the stairs and inside.

Paige sighed heavily.

It was only early on in Paige’s assignment—and this was clearly going to take time—but she could recognise the other girl’s suffering and wanted, more than anything, to be able to help. She saw the hurt in her eyes, she felt her suffering. Having been on the receiving end of a great kindness in her own life, Paige knew she had to work to find a way through to Amanda.

But she couldn’t push it.

The evening passed much as the night before had. Amanda sat in silence, except for the few questions Max asked her, and then demanded to be excused. He agreed, once she’d cleared the table, which Amanda did, albeit with pretty bad grace, and then left the room.

Max looked marginally less shell-shocked tonight.

He moved to the kitchen and Paige found it hard not to stare. Memories of last night throbbed all around them. She was awkward and uncomfortable but also glued to the spot. A glutton for punishment?

He was so...masculine, and somehow even the simple act of rolling up his sleeves and tackling the dishes just made him more so. Growing up with all the trappings of the Hollywood life, Paige had never seen her own dad do much more than put a coffee cup in the dishwasher. They had housekeepers and cleaners and a cook, ‘to help keep your calories in check’. Even now, memories of her mother’s nagging about weight had the power to make Paige’s stomach churn.

‘Paige.’ Max’s voice was deep and something in her gut pulled, like an invisible string, drawing her towards him. She dug her fingernails into her palm as she stood, in an effort to control her movements, to be sure she went only to the other side of the counter and not around into the kitchen and right up to him. It didn’t matter that she kept a sensible distance though. The air between them still sizzled and sparked.

He seemed to be lost in thought though—having spoken her name, he was simply staring at her face, not speaking—so Paige lifted a brow encouragingly. ‘Yes?’

His lips tugged downwards into something like a scowl. ‘You got sunburned today.’

Surprise softened her features, and disappointment swirled inside her chest. ‘Yes. I was reading outside.’

He nodded, still distracted. ‘I’ve got some lotion. I’ll grab it.’

She shook her head as visions of Max lathering her body flooded her brain, making speech almost impossible.

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