Page 40 of King of Guilt

Smacking myself in the head, I shushed the nasty thought and resigned to the fact that if we didn’t get out of bed now, we were going to be late for work.

“Dean,” I whispered, my hand gently pressing his shoulder. “Dean, we need to get up now.”

A brief groan escaped his lips and without opening his eyes, he mumbled, “Let’s take the day off.”

Of course, that would have sounded completely normal had we been truly husband and wife. We were supposedly still newlyweds, and this sort of thing was expected. But we were far from that picture everyone had of us, which made me ache a little. “Which means that I still need to get up. I’m your assistant. Who else is going to fix your calendar?”

Lazily and somewhat hesitantly, Dean lifted his head off my chest, barely opening his eyes just a slit to look at me. With a raspy voice, he said, “Just shoot Mika a message that we’re playing hooky. He’ll handle it.”

Mika was the Head of Administrative Services. On paper, and as far as Human Resources were concerned, I reported to him. In reality, with me being the CEO’s personal assistant, Mika actually reported to me.

Sliding out from underneath Dean, I felt his weight gradually lift off of me and sensed a hint of emptiness, as if I was supposed to lie under him all day.

Soon, other feelings took over. As I picked up my panties and nightgown, my awareness of my own nakedness was a little disorienting. Barefooted, I tiptoed toward the door.

“What do you say we take the boat out today?” I heard him say, just as my hand was about to make contact with the door knob.

Turning around, I held up my gown to my breasts, covering them, hoping that it draped down to conceal the rest of me. My eyes looked out at the gray sky, and I smiled. “Don’t you think it might rain?”

“Even better.” He pushed himself up, resting his back against the headboard. He looked good enough to devour with the concave curve of his toned stomach, the width of his shoulders, and the heart-stopping chaos of curls over his head. “We can spend the whole day in the pool.”

Yes, he was proposing something delicious, to say the least. But was I willing to sink deeper into my feelings for him without the faintest idea of how he felt about me? Was the way he looked at me enough? The deep, brooding gaze in his eyes? The soft tone in which he spoke to me? The…

“So?” he asked. “What do you say?”

“Um—Sure.” I finally shrugged, feeling as though I were giving away another right to complain later. He wasn’t forcing me; I was walking into wherever he was taking me, fully lucid and aware of how badly I could get hurt… soon. “Let me grab some coffee first and send that text to Mika.”

Grinning, he suddenly looked ten times livelier as he pushed away the covers, practically leaping out of bed. “Take your time. I’m going to take a shower.”

“Do—Would you like some breakfast?”

Marching fully naked toward me—well, actually, toward the bathroom door next to me—he casually shrugged. “Sure. Whatever you feel like.” As he disappeared into the bathroom, I heard his voice echo, “You don’t want to join me in here?”

My heart nearly stopped. What the hell was he doing? Was he still drunk from last night? “Uh—No, I’m good. I really need that coffee right now.”

Rushing across the hall before someone could see me, I practically leapt into my suite, slamming the door behind me. Backing up against it, I lightly banged my head backward, once, twice, thrice; a desperate attempt at resetting my thoughts.

When I failed, I dropped my clothes to the floor, closed my eyes, and slowly descended. As soon as my skin touched the cool tile, I let myself sit there for a moment, cross-legged. I began to take long, deep, deliberate breaths, just like the ones I had needed when a panic attack was imminent.

Except I wasn’t panicking… or was I?

Something about what Dean was doing felt thoughtless and cruel. Or maybe that was my defense mechanism, jumping to spare me the heartache I was setting myself up for by wearing my heart on my sleeve.

Pushing myself up to stand, I went into the shower and washed myself in literally three minutes. I then walked out, got dressed, texted Mika, and left my suite to go downstairs.

With a smile and a warm croissant, Helen had my coffee ready in the kitchen. As soon as she saw me, she picked up the mug and plate, walking out to meet me halfway. “Good morning! In here or outside?”

I turned to look at the darkening clouds filling the sky. “In here. Dean wants to take the boat out today—I think it’s a crazy idea.”

Her chuckle was light as it danced in the air. Placing everything on the counter in front of my stool, Helen made her way back into the kitchen. “Mr. Allen’s practically been raised on yachts. At fifteen, he sailed single handedly with Mrs. Allen on board.”

My eyebrows shrugged along with my shoulders before I picked up my beverage, inhaling the aroma that kicked my brain cells into gear. “Guess I’ll have to trust him, then.” I let out an intentionally awkward giggle, and Helen nodded.

It wasn’t long before we were joined by Dean, fresh with damp hair and bright eyes. He only wanted coffee, saying that he would eat on the yacht later. Soon, he and I were stepping onto the giant boat, the sky clearing up for what seemed to be the calm before the storm. On the horizon, I could still see a floating carpet of rain clouds that promised a shower in the afternoon, if nothing more.

Since the sky was clear for a while, Dean and I seized the opportunity and laid in the sunlight. Ten minutes in, I couldn’t take it anymore. I was cold and needed to either put some layers on or get inside.

“Let’s go in, then!” he nonchalantly said, picking up our drinks and leading the way into the pool area.

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