Page 43 of The Boss's Forbidden Assistant

Later couldn’t come soon enough.

Salvador didn’t keep Harper waiting long. She just had time to get back to her room and shower, to change into a pair of linen shorts and a tee shirt and he was there, with that brief knock and entrance, like the first time when he’d caught her in a state of undress.

‘Hi,’ she said breathlessly, moving across the floor quickly and straight into his arms.

He wrapped her in an embrace, kissing her hungrily, desperately, as though they’d been separated for weeks, not a single day. She could have sobbed for how great it felt to be right back here, in his arms, close to his fast-beating heart.

‘I was thinking of going for a walk to the beach,’ he said, breaking the kiss to pull away and look down at her. ‘Join me?’

Her heart fluttered. It was different—more than she’d expected—and she agreed without hesitation. ‘I’d like that.’ Damn it, her voice sounded a little unsteady. She cleared her throat quickly and gave Salvador her best easy-going smile, as if it was no skin off her nose either way.

‘Are you going to go dressed like that?’ She gestured to his business shirt and trousers, so Salvador frowned.

‘I suppose not.’

Harper skimmed his body. ‘Need help getting changed?’

He laughed gruffly. ‘I think I can manage.’

She pouted. ‘But many hands make light work...’ She reached for his shirt, lifting it out of his trousers just enough to be able to connect fingertips to bare flesh. She felt his skin bunch in response and a rush of power flooded her.

‘You’re impossible.’ He kissed her on the tip of her nose. ‘I’ll meet you downstairs on the terrace.’

She tried not to be too disappointed. After all, he’d still suggested the beach, and they had the whole night ahead of them.

The whole night, and six more nights after that.

And then?a little voice probed. She ignored it. There was no sense getting ahead of herself. They had the week: that had to be enough.

In his room, Salvador moved slowly. He stripped out of his work clothes and dressed in some shorts and a shirt. As he approached the door, his eyes gravitated to the small, framed photo he kept on the shelf. The only family photo they’d taken: Anna-Maria, Sofia and him.

His gut churned and the hollow feeling, that was as much a part of him as his brain and blood, felt enormous and cavernous. He stopped dead in the room, staring at the photo with a visceral pain tearing through him. He was the sole survivor. When they’d taken that photo, they’d been full of hope. Sofia had been weak—the doctors had been very honest—but Salvador hadn’t yet known that there were things in life his money could not buy or could not fix. That there were no guarantees.

Anna-Maria looked like herself before she’d started treatment, lost her hair and so much weight. It was a snapshot of a time before his life had gone to pieces. He moved to the picture and pressed a finger to it, guilt, pain and remorse swirling through him, so he couldn’t believe that he was about to enjoy an evening of unbidden pleasures with someone as vital as Harper Lawson.

It was a betrayal in every way. Guilt cut him, but he wrapped it up into a little box and kept it buried deep inside. There would be time to feel those emotions later, time to regret and repent. For the next week, he intended to enjoy Harper, somehow understanding that being with her was essential to give him back his own sense of life, his own vitality. He needed her, he realised. Even when he didn’t want to, he needed her desperately, and he wasn’t strong enough to fight it—not yet, anyway.

CHAPTER TWELVE

‘ICOULDSTAYlike this for ever!’ she called over the gentle hush of the water lapping against the side of her head, the feel of it around her body like silk. It took her a moment to hear what she’d said, and the implication of those words, and she flushed to the roots of her hair. She hoped he hadn’t heard and, if he had, that he didn’t read anything into it.

Kicking to her feet, she stood on the sandy floor of the ocean, looking round to where Salvador had last been. He was closer now, right beside her, his expression difficult to read.

‘How about the rest of the week?’ he asked with a small smile that seemed relaxed enough, so he obviously hadn’t interpreted her benign statement as a plea to stay longer.

Which it hadn’t been. Never mind that time was passing way too fast, that they’d been back from Prague for four days now and, every minute, Harper was conscious of how close they were coming to the end of her time on the island.

‘Hmm.’ She pretended to consider that. ‘Okay, deal.’

‘Do you have any time off when you return to Chicago?’

Reality thudded against her, the prospects of the flight and return to her normal job things she didn’t particularly want to contemplate. She swished her fingertips through the beautiful crystal water. ‘I fly in on a Saturday night, so I’ll have a day. Why?’

‘It’s been a busy fortnight. Perhaps you should take some leave.’

She threw him a look. ‘I don’t want special favours, remember?’

He lifted his hands in a gesture of surrender. ‘I meant the work you’ve been doing here. Long days...’

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