Page 19 of The Boss's Forbidden Assistant

‘What kind of properties?’

Catarina returned with dinner—rice, chicken and vegetables. It smelled delicious.

He regarded her a moment. ‘It’s a chain of hotels.’

‘Oh, nothing major, then,’ she responded with a hint of a smile.

An answering smile twisted her tummy into knots.

‘You can make the arrangements?’

‘Of course.’ This was probably the task most like any she’d done in her other roles. ‘Email me any specifics and I’ll handle it.’

Harper Lawson was someone who kept her cards close to her chest by force of habit, he suspected. Whenever she began to speak freely, she stopped herself, changed subject and spoke a little more slowly, as if hearing what she was about to say before she said it.

She was careful with what she said, but her face was so expressive, her eyes so telling, that he understood far more than she probably would have wanted.

He’d seen sadness, for instance, when she’d spoken of her family. And desperation, when she’d briefly mentioned her salary, her need for a high-paying job. There was also her pragmatic assessment of the prospects of New York—it had all been an equation of income and outgoings, no thought of the beauty and pace of that city, of how she might enjoy living somewhere new. It had been the same with the west coast. Despite the fact a move there would take her to the beaches she obviously loved so much, she hadn’t shown even a flicker of remorse about it not being right—because of her family in Chicago, which caused her sadness.

There was also the way she’d shut him down when he’d asked about alternative careers.No.Then a swift change of subject, refocusing on the business at hand. Which made him believe that in fact there had been something else she’d wanted to do at some point, and yet she hadn’t pursued it.

He had gleaned all this from a few minutes’ conversation and, though it was none of his business, he found himself wondering about her later that night as he worked propped up in bed, coffee on the bedside table, laptop on his thighs.

It had been the kind of day he’d rather forget.

But it had also been a day filled with memories that he kept looking at, indulging in, even when he should know better. The way she’d felt, pressed up against him. The feel of her breath against his cheek, her parted lips, her breasts... God, her breasts. The way her nipples had hardened beneath his touch, her head thrown back, her silky hair smelling like citrus blossoms, making him ache for her on every level.

It had been way too long, that was all. He’d been celibate for almost two years. Since that one night with Anna-Maria, when they’d conceived Sofia.

Their teeny, tiny little daughter.

His gut tightened when he remembered that little face, those shallow breaths, the downy skin and fluffy hair, black like his.

His heart squeezed so hard and tight, the pain so intense he almost felt as though he might die from it. But he wouldn’t. He knew that from experience. It was not a new pain, but rather a part of him, stitched into his being every day, with every breath, every memory of that baby, his wife, the lives he’d failed to save.

He’d known pain before. Had known his father’s rejection, his mother’s sudden death. But nothing had prepared him for the ache that had spread through him when he’d held his baby, his fragile, weak baby, and had been forced to accept that there was nothing he could do.

How did one survive such grief?

He was surviving, but he was changed for ever, unable to live as he had before, with a future he considered his own. He was simply going through the motions of life now—he had no right to expect pleasure, to seek joy of his own. He didn’t want that. Numbness was the closest thing to salvation he experienced and he refused to let it go.

CHAPTER SIX

SINCEARRIVINGONIlha do Sonhos, Harper had come to appreciate that there was something quite unique about the place. Looking east from Salvador’s kitchen was the most exquisite sunrise she’d ever seen, filled with pink and purple that turned to orange as it lightened. In the evenings, from the western courtyard where they’d shared dinner twice now, the sunsets were beyond compare. It was the first time she’d been somewhere that showcased such stunning bookends to the day, the natural phenomena a show she couldn’t bear to miss. And it had only been a few days!

There was something about marking the beginning and end of the day in a form of ritualistic light-worship that seemed important to Harper and which was grounding and breath-taking. As her fourth day drew to a close, she studied the pile of work on her desk, knowing she’d need to return to it later that night, but that a short break wouldn’t make a huge difference. Stretching her arms over her head, she stood, leaving her office and hovering in the shared space a moment before moving to Salvador’s door and knocking once.

He lifted his head, eyes piercing hers, so her heart skipped a beat and the smile she forced felt unnatural.

‘I’m going to take a break. Do you need anything?’

His eyes lingered for a moment too long on her face before dropping to her lips then looking away. There was consternation on his features, his lips compressed so her heart kicked up a gear, because she understood.

Whatever he’d said, no matter what they’d agreed, he still wanted her.

The air between them sparked a little. ‘No.’ A gruff response. ‘Thank you.’

It was an attempt to soften his initial answer but it didn’t really work. She turned and left quickly before she could do something she’d regret.

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