Page 45 of The Boss's Forbidden Assistant

‘I’m talking about a gift.’

‘You’re talking about money you wouldn’t have thought to offer were it not for the fact we’ve been sleeping together.’

‘You don’t know that.’

‘Oh, come on, Salvador! Of course I do.’ Exasperation coloured the tone of her voice. ‘You wouldn’t even know about my mum if it weren’t for the fact we became intimate. It’s bad enough that we’ve...been...that this has happened... But if you were to give me money as well?’ The colour drained from her face. ‘I couldn’t live with myself.’

‘It would be a gift. No strings attached.’

She fought her wave of anger. It would be so easy for him to do as he was suggesting and transfer a large sum of money to her. He wouldn’t even notice the difference in his bank balance. The offer he was making wasn’t a big deal—to him. But to Harper it was insulting and hurtful, and she couldn’t even understand why she was having such a strong reaction to it, only that she knew she didn’t want his money.

‘The time we’ve spent together has been a gift,’ she said slowly, earnestly. ‘I don’t need—or want—anything else from you.’

She knew the matter wasn’t over but at least he appeared to let it go for now. ‘Except the dress?’ he murmured in a voice that was completely different now, light and seductive as he drew her closer to him. ‘We’ve already discussed the fact it’s not my size.’

‘Okay, I’ll keep the dress,’ she said, as if under duress. ‘If you insist.’

The only problem with the dress was that he couldn’t imagine her wearing it to anything other than a date, and suddenly the idea of Harper dating some other man made Salvador’s skin crawl. It was an inevitability and, hell, it was none of his business, but he couldn’t get the idea of her with some creep out of his head.

It was all he could think of the next day when he should have been reading contracts his lawyers had sent over for the purchase of the hotels. There was a lot to consider, a lot of liability to wade through, and he should have been focussed one hundred per cent on the words in front of him. Instead, he saw Harper in his mind, and then, when he lifted his head for a moment, right in front of him.

If she was having the same issues, she was doing a much better job of concealing them. Her focus looked genuine. She stared at the screen, moving her fingers over the keys, frowning then typing some more, reaching for the phone, talking to someone with a smile on her face that made his gut twist and roll.

He cursed mentally and returned his gaze to the papers, reading the terms several times without taking them in.

This was impossible.

He moved to the curtains and closed them, boxing himself into his office, but unfortunately not pushing Harper even part way from his mind. Or the fact they had two more nights together.

‘This is delicious,’ Harper murmured, barely able to taste the lobster the chef had prepared. It was their second-last night together and the knowledge of that kept rushing through her like a drum, over and over.Two more nights. Two more nights. In Prague, when she’d thought they might just have one night together, it had seemed like enough. A one-night stand, as heaps of people experimented with.

But, the more time she spent with Salvador, the greedier she was for him, the hungrier for more time, laughs, conversation, sex and everything. She loved being with him, here on this island or travelling. She just loved...this.

Her eyes stung a little and she had the mortifying realisation that she was close to tears...so close. She stabbed a piece of lobster in the creamy sauce and lifted it to her lips, forcing a smile as she finished chewing.

‘Tell me about this, Salvador,’ she said, command in her voice for a change.

He put down his fork, relaxing in the chair, apparently not surfing any of the emotional currents she was; his expression was perfectly normal. ‘The lobster? I know only that it was once in the ocean.’

She pouted. ‘I mean, this...’ She gestured to the house, then the island and the silhouette of the rainforest that led to the beach. ‘How does a man your age come to be so successful?’

‘That’s a matter of public record. I invested wisely.’

She reached for her wine glass, taking a sip, glad they were talking, because it distracted her mind from the inevitability of her departure, and more than anything she needed to be distracted.

‘But with what? I know you’re “self-made”, because that’s part of the company’s bio,’ she said without thinking, then realised it showed she’d researched him a little. ‘It was part of my job application,’ she supplied quickly. ‘I had to demonstrate knowledge of da Rocha Industries.’

‘And here I thought you’d had a burning passion for me all this time,’ he responded with a smile. There was silence except for the pleasant song of night birds swooping through the trees, making merry, and then Salvador’s deep voice. ‘I owe it all to my mother, actually.’

Harper lifted a brow, curious about that. ‘In what way?’

‘She taught me to manage money well. She also had excellent instincts,’ he continued. ‘We would discuss investments even when I was just a boy.’

‘She came from money?’

He shook his head, eyes glittered with so much pride it blew Harper away when his gaze met hers. ‘No. Quite the opposite. My mother was dirt-poor. She worked as a cleaner at a hotel in Rio. The man she conceived me with was in town for a few weeks—on holiday,’ Salvador said with a voice mute of emotion. ‘She fell in love. He saw an opportunity to have some fun while his wife was at home in Sydney, raising their children.’

Harper’s lips parted. It was so like her own experience, she felt an immediate rush of sympathy for his mother. ‘I’m very sorry for her. That’s an awful feeling.’

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