Page 41 of Bastard

“Why not?” he asks.

Why am I telling him no? He’s an attractive guy. We’re having fun and have a great connection. Hour after hour we’ve spent getting physical.

Still ...

I lift my head and kiss him lightly on the lips. “Best if we keep this professional.”

“Okay.” He pushes up and off me. “I get it. Until now, I wasn’t certain if you worked for him or were in a relationship.”

“A relationship?” I gasp. “What gave you that idea?”

He shrugs. “Something in the way he looked at you.”

Wait, what?My heart speeds up. “How?”

“Like you’re his.”

I swallow hard then recover. “His to command. You’ve spoken to him, he likes to be the boss. I’m an employee, nothing more.” Nothing more than hisex esposo.

“Whatever you say. But I’m telling you straight up, there’s something more there. The man’s a goddamn fool if he doesn’t see it.”

“He’s nobody’s fool.” I scramble to my feet.

“See. You’re defending him.”

“I’m not.” Dios, maybe I am. “But a word of advice, be careful about who you insult.”

“Defending him.”

I shrug my shoulder. “Try that same move again, but keep things professional. Okay?”

13

Hayden looks at me. Possessively.

Like I’m his.

The next day, Niko’s words occupy my thoughts. The seventeen-year-old version of myself would bask over the insight into Hayden’s complicated psyche.

But I’m on edge, doubtful and confused. Hayden doesn’t want me. He doesn’t want to feel anything for anyone. Caring makes you weak, that’s what he said, right? It’s a philosophy he’s believed forever. The reason he broke things off with me years ago.

He kept tabs on you.

He protected you.

So what did Niko see? Or is it simply male pride offering him an excuse for my rejecting him?

My body aches as I return to my cabin after a highly professional yet extremely grueling training session. Physical training without a strong mental mindset is pointless.

It takes a few minutes before I spy Hayden’s note.

Meet me in my quarters at 7 p.m. sharp.

Hayden checking on my progress? Or is he going to explain to me what our mission is in Cape Town?

I quickly shower, blow out my hair, and dress. Tonight is warm with a breeze coming off the ocean. I’m in a light black, cold-shoulder sweater and white shorts. But I’ve taken a few extra minutes arranging my hair in a sophisticated up-do, much like how I’d worn it on that New Year’s Eve.

Intentional? Or am I simply being practical?