the world so differently from how it really was.
“Got it. I am sorry. I was just passing the time.”
“We hired you to work.”
I arched my eyebrows in stunned silence. I’d been working my ass off and no one, not even an angry Savannah, could deny that. “Is there something wrong with the amount of work I’ve done?” I asked, my pride leaping. “Am I not doing enough?”
“No,” she said, shaking her head. “I’m sorry. I’m… you’re doing a great job.”
Damn right I was. My hands were a bloody mess, my back felt broken at the end of the day and I had the sneaking suspicion I’d lost about five pounds.
“Is there something else you want from me?” It was a direct reference to the kiss the other night. Her lips parted and I could see the memories in her face. I wondered if she’d gone to bed that night and put her fingers between her legs. I wondered if she’d thought of me, the way I thought of her, when I bit my lip and came all over my hand. Helpless and raw.
Send your daughter away and tell me to get on my knees in front of you. Send her away and I’ll put you on yours.
Her eyes flickered over my face, I could almost feel them touch my lips and eyes. Breathing became difficult and my fingers twitched with a sudden wild impulse to touch her hair, a long straight piece of it that had fallen over her shoulder and glowed in the sunlight.
“There’s nothing else I want from you,” she lied, but I admired the effort. I mean, we were both lying to some extent.
Katie grinned and waved at me over her shoulder.
I turned to pick up my tools, only to find Margot standing in the broken sunlight. A ghost in white linen and diamonds, holding a steaming mug of coffee. She carried a folded newspaper under her arm like she was a stockbroker off to the office.
“You’re a shark,” she said, her eyes sharper than a knife. “Aren’t you?”
I shook my head, but Margot grinned anyway, a Mona Lisa curl to her lip that I couldn’t read.
“Come to my room,” she said, making it sound like an imperial order. “Midnight tonight. We’ll see whether you’re a shark or not.”
SAVANNAH
“It’s late, Katie,” I murmured into my daughter’s hair, stroking it away from her young, damp face pressed into the bed pillow. “Do you want to go to sleep in my room again?”
I half hoped Katie would say yes. Since the break-in, Katie had been bunking with me and it had been nice. More than nice, actually.
Katie’s little body curled against mine in the darkness, her tiny feet pressed tight against my shins, had reminded me of when Katie had been a baby and we’d shared the same bed until my daughter had started to snore.
She still did, which was why I only half hoped my daughter bunk in with me.
There was the added benefit of her being in the room keeping me from going down to the porch where Matt slept. Or if he was like me, didn’t sleep. Haunted by that kiss.
Jesus. Savannah, when you mess up, you really mess up.
Though, it was hard to describe the single hottest kiss of my life as a mistake. A tease, yes. My god, yes. A distraction – absolutely. All I did was think about that man and his mouth. And shoulders. The hard press of his dick against my belly.
See. There I go again. Wanting what I should not want. But it was like being hungry and knowing half a sugar pie was downstairs for the taking.
“I want to sleep in my room,” Katie murmured, reaching up to hold my hand. “Just stay until I fall asleep.”
I sighed and rolled over onto my back, staring at the ceiling, thinking of the burning of widows in India and the other extreme religious rituals I was getting paid to think about these days.
The poor widows only lasted a second against memories of Matt.
The man worked through three shirts a day.
And yes, I was counting. From my office window I was watching it all—the sweat that dripped down his neck, the way the sun hit his green eyes and turned them the color of bottle glass. How he used the bottom edge of his shirt to wipe his forehead, revealing a white slice of muscled abdomen.
I knew I’d overreacted to the card situation, but it had been such a shock after all