Page 130 of Sweet Temptation

She was my client, she was single, she was sexy as hell, and I just had to get over the fact that other men were gonna want her.

And I wasn’t gonna touch her.

Ever again.

I kept telling myself this shit, repeatedly, as I stalked back to my room to grab the rest of the takeout and headed over to Andre’s room. I could’ve just told him to come over, but I needed to flee the scene of the crime. My hotel room still smelled of her, the bed was still unmade, and I figured if Andre walked in the door, he’d read it all over me.

Guilt.

When he answered his door, I shoved his takeout at him.

“I didn’t fuck her,” I growled as I walked into the room. “So don’t ask.”

He shut the door behind me.

I put the tray with our coffees on the table and dropped my takeout bag, shedding my jacket. “She was scared last night,” I informed him. “She couldn’t sleep. She came to my room to talk to me. She ended up sleeping in my bed, and I slept on the couch.”

I met his eyes. And yeah, I felt like a supreme dick, lying to him like that. Andre and I had worked together for years. We had trust. We were friends.

And maybe that was why I didn’t think he’d buy that I slept right next to her in my bed and didn’t touch her, even though it was the truth.

Because who’d believe that, the way I was acting?

For sure by now he’d seen the way I looked at her when she wasn’t looking.

I told myself it didn’t matter what he believed, though. I was his employer, she was my client, and he could fuck right off.

“Wasn’t gonna ask,” Andre said carefully. He joined me at the table as I unpacked my breakfast, ignoring him as he sat down. “That’s bullshit, actually,” he muttered. “I was totally gonna ask.”

“Nothing happened,” I said firmly.

“Okay.”

“Not another word.”

“Zero words,” he promised, eyeing me with curiosity.

I had no idea if he actually believed me or not, but either way, he knew one part was true—that Summer was scared last night—and clearly wasn’t gonna be a dick about it.

We ate breakfast, talking a bit about the bullshit at the club last night. I let him know I hadn’t heard any update from Naveen today; we still didn’t know where Sanchuk was, which meant we were on high alert.

Then we packed up and collected Summer.

As we headed to the airport in silence, I was in on-duty mode. Scanning the area around Summer at all times, opening doors for her, loading and unloading her bags.

What I didn’t do was look her in the eye.

I tried to act the same as always. Professional. Like nothing had happened between us last night—which was bullshit.

The truth was I was wavering way off-course for this woman. In my head, at least.

I felt strangely rigid and hardly spoke to her on the plane, even when she was seated right next to me again. Yet I couldn’t stop checking her out. My eyes were gonna pop a vessel with all the side-eye action I was giving her.

She just sucked me in…

She was sexy as fuck, obviously. But she was also smart. Strong. Sure of herself. She knew who she was and what she wanted. And last night, she’d wanted me close to her.

It scared me.

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