Page 13 of Savage Game
Crossing her arms over her chest, she closed her eyes, and tipped her head back. The water weighing the mass of her hair down felt similar to how self-doubt burdened her conscience. The spray battered her skin as forcefully as her self-recrimination pummeled her mind.
Yesterday, she’d enjoyed her day as Master’s personal assistant. She used the flat of her hands to wipe the water from her face.
Not Master, darn it, Mister Nolan, my um… boss.
Heat crept up her neck, and the reaction had nothing to do with the temperature of the water. She wasn’t like this, darn it. When she’d entered the room and spotted him on the bed, she’d half expected him to demand, um… other services from her. Instead, he had taken care of her. And she’d enjoyed his attention and ministrations—enjoyed it!
Knowing too well stewing wouldn’t help her to calm down and clear her head, she lathered the shampoo in her hair.
However, while she reveled in the dig of her fingertips into her scalp and the lavender and floral scent of the expensive shampoo, it brought back memories of last night. Her thoughts strayed back to the competent rhythm of his hands, his breath against her ear, the tone of his—
Oh, will you stop it! She scolded herself and rinsed the product from her hair.
She worked conditioner into her locks and squirted a dollop of body wash in her hands inhaling the scent.
I love to smell Bvlgari’s Thé Bleu on you.
Charlotte slammed a mental door on the memory and reminded herself she was here for a month to honor some deal Liam made.
The last thing she wanted or needed was to get some complicated messed-up feelings for her Ma–
Boss, he’s your boss.
She rubbed herself clean, rinsed, and, with more force than necessary, twisted the taps to shut off the water.
He’s a boss, who may or may not want to fuck you. Who technically bought you.
She stepped out of the stall and yanked a towel from the rack.
He’s an ass.
Just like Liam.
And every other man.
She finished her morning routine quickly. She had only ninety minutes before she needed to serve breakfast. After she patted herself dry, she wrapped herself in the soft bathrobe. Unsure of what he had in store for her, she went back to her bedroom to put on her costume and start the day.
The leather of his office chair creaked when Byron leaned back. Studying the little kitten, he realized she’d been awfully quiet since yesterday. When he’d left her room, she’d been happy and relaxed–even aroused. But this morning at breakfast, she seemed off-kilter.
Was something wrong? Did my retreat after the reward I gave her upset her?
The thought didn’t seem logical, but maybe she wanted more. He sure as hell had craved more. But he’d done the gentlemanly thing and left her alone. Had that been a mistake?
Narrowing his eyes, he inspected her more closely. As a businessman, he’d learned to use his eyes, to observe, and not to jump to conclusions. As a Dom, he’d discovered the practice also translated to the lifestyle. A lot of people didn’t tell what they needed or wanted, but their bodies showed a person’s desires far more often than they realized.
What does she show that she isn’t telling?
Dressed in a combination of a harem’s girl outfit and a Cleopatra costume, she’d decided to let her hair flow loosely around her waist. While the first impression was sexy seduction, she could also use the length of the locks as a shield. Right now, her long strands hung like a curtain between them, obscuring her face and most of her upper body from his gaze.
Clue number one—hiding expression and body language.
During their time in his private office yesterday, she’d asked questions and kept a close eye on what he was doing. She wasn’t blatant about her service but made his work easier and more pleasant with a matter-of-fact approach he liked. She’d showered him with little gestures, which showed Byron she watched him attentively.
Once, she’d slipped a pen that had fallen on the floor back onto his desk. Later, she’d emptied his overflowing wastepaper basket before he could direct her to do so, and by the end of the day, a file he was looking for landed in his hand before he could ask her to get it for him. She did seem to have a sixth sense when it came to what he needed.
Today, however, she stayed as far away from him as was possible in the room.
She was a far cry from the attentive personal assistant from his previous workday and didn’t resemble the sweet submissive he’d groomed and massaged last night. Damn, but he wanted Charlotte relaxed and pliable again. He scrubbed his hands over his face before he ran them through his hair.
