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I barely suppress a scoff. My disbelief must have been obvious because I see the way his eyes narrow at my response. “She’ll still be waiting for you,” I add, unable to help myself.
“Who?”
I roll my eyes, incredulous. “Your friend from the plane. You know, the one you were all too happy to laugh with while I was taking care of your daughter? You can run along now.”
Run along now?
He tilts his head as if he can't believe what I've just said. To be honest, I can't believe what I’ve just said, either, because although I’m not a wallflower when it comes to dealing with this man, this is a personal matter, and I tend not to comment on that.
Now I’m starting to wonder if that really was a virgin cocktail because I’m being more daring than is good for me.
Jett’s brows knit together. “I don’t care for that woman.”
“Sure looked like you did.” The words spill out and I regret them instantly. This isn’t me. I don’t talk to Jett about his woman, or his love life.
“I didn’t care for her on the plane.” His eyes lock on mine. “She might have been digging for information, or maybe she wasn’t, but she’s a journalist and I’m always wary about people like that. I told her to leave or I’d have my bodyguard remove her from the seat.”
I blink, thrown off by the intensity in his voice. I’d seen them talking, laughing even. She wanted him. That much was obvious.
He frowns, noticing my hesitation. “What?” His voice drops an octave, but there’s still an underlying edge to it. “What’s going through your head?”
“It looked like you two were getting on just fine.” I fold my arms tightly across my chest.
His expression changes, darkening. “You were watching?”
I nod, biting the inside of my cheek, suddenly feeling foolish. But why should I? He made a scene at the barbecue, humiliated me in front of everyone, and now he’s acting like he’s the one who’s been wronged.
“Why are you so mad about me talking to Jacques?” I shift the conversation back to safer ground.
Jett’s jaw clenches.
“The guy I was talking to,” I explain.
“I know who you mean.” A muscle ticks in his jaw, the way it does when he’s barely holding back. “I have to be extra careful out here. I need to be vigilant around Brooke.”
I exhale sharply, disbelief washing over me. “But you know the guy! He told me his parents hosted the barbecue.”
Jett’s lips purse together, like he’s fighting to contain himself.
“We were at a barbecue,” I continue. “I was talking to a guy. What do you want me to do? Ignore everyone and keep my eyes glued to Brooke the whole time? You said this trip was supposed to be a break for me. You told me I wouldn’t be working the entire time. In fact, you said I would have the weekends and evenings to myself to do as I wished.”
The muscle in his jaw tightens again, and still he doesn’t say anything. This is most unusual. Jett Knight never backs down. Never accepts defeat. He always has an answer.
He nods, then. “I remember. I’m sorry.”
My eyes widen. I must be staring at him in shock—because an apology from him is unheard of.
“I’m sorry, okay?”
“You made me feel like a fool. You humiliated me.”
The way his gaze ping pongs from my eyes to my lips and then back up again, sets my heart aflutter. “I’m sorry for every shitty feeling you experienced because of me. I was wrong, and I’m sorry.”
Not only has he apologized, but he’s admitted he was wrong. This moment deserves a drumroll. But he doesn’t stick around. He leaves and I let out a breath, trying to steady the whirlwind of emotions swirling inside me.
This man is so unpredictable. Just when I thought I knew him, he does something that completely throws me.
Now, I’m stuck in paradise, and I feel like I’m drowning in a flood of emotions. I can’t be emotional, not now. Not here. Not around my boss.