Page 86 of Boss of the Year

How was it even supposed to fit?

Panic spiked hot in my throat.

He’d entered through the only path to the spring. The path that Robbie had said was private to my room, but which clearly connected to Lucas’s as well. If I tried to get out now, I’d have to rise from the water and walk straight past him—soaked, naked, exposed.

So, I did what I’d always been able to do.

I wedged myself into a corner and hid.

Lucas was oblivious to my presence as he waded through the pool, humming something incoherent in his deep baritone.

He was beautiful when he was relaxed. That powerful body moved fluidly without the invisible pressure he carried on his shoulders daily. He looked younger, almost boyish, as the lines beside his eyes and mouth disappeared without his perpetual frown.

The only thing I liked better was his smile.

As he came closer, still unaware of my presence, the song he was humming became a bit clearer, albeit off key.

Why did knowing that Lucas Lyons couldn’t hold a tune make him even more blazingly attractive?

“‘Quiet nights of quiet stars,’” he murmured as he circled closer.

I sucked in a breath. It meant nothing. Just because Lucas was singing the same song we’d danced to in Brasília didn’t mean he thought as much about that night as I had. He probably just had it stuck in his head.

I pressed myself deeper into the shadows, willing the rising mist to cover more of me, my knees pulled tight to my chest, heart pounding so hard I was sure he’d hear it over the quiet lap of water and his own poor singing.

He turned, slowly, as if following the curve of the pool, arms moving through the spring with practiced grace as if he was dancing again. In that same turn, he’d guided me through as he continued to sing under his breath: “This is where I want to be…here with you so close to me…”

I watched, helpless yet hypnotized, as he drifted closer—too close—and before I could stop it, his hand brushed my thigh.

We both jolted.

The singing stopped.

His head snapped around, and I saw the change in real time—the shift in his posture, the way his body tensed as his brain caught up to what his skin had already registered.

As his gaze landed on me, something flashed in the depths of his shock. Dark and unmistakable heat. Need.

Followed by horror.

“Oh, shit,” he choked out. “I didn’t—Marie?”

“I can’t get out!” My voice was high and strangled as I sank my shoulders into the water and, crossed my arms over my chest to keep my breasts from bobbing to the surface. “I’m sorry, but I’m, um, naked in here, and you’ve been blocking the way out.”

“Oh, Christ.” With a glance down, probably to ensure the part of him I’d just been ogling wasn’t visible, he backed up like he’d touched an electric fence, looking everywhere but at me. “JesusChrist. Fuck. Ah, well…I can’t just get out either. Also,um, naked.” He scowled. “What are you even doing in here? This spring is private to my room.”

“I thought it was private tomyroom!” I waved one arm helplessly above the water. “Robbie told me so.”

His scowl deepened. Oh, I wanted to smooth his brow. “He told me the same thing.”

Slowly, the realization sank in for both of us.

We’d been set up.

Lucas dragged a wet hand down his face. “Unbelievable. First, the fucking bikini, and now this.”

“Huh?”

“Nothing. Just that the best assistant I’ve ever had is actively trying to get himself fired.”