Page 25 of Pleasure Island
9
Liam
So far, I wasn’t impressed with one Mila Golding.
She was gorgeous, yes. She also knew it. She was used to sayingjumpand everybody around her wanted to know how high.
I was more the kind to keep my feet planted firmly on the ground, and when she pursed her pretty red lips, then told me to trot on back to my boss, I held my position.
From what I could tell, her one redeeming quality was the fact that she’d wavered when I told her I’d be fired if I went back to Steadman just on her say-so.
At least she hadn’t fired back with some pithy comment like,That’s not my problem.
Now, standing across from her and watching as she drank from a gleaming black coffee cup, I had to wonder what her next step was going to be. Somehow, I didn’t see her going from outright hostility to being A-OK with the idea of me watching her back.
Finally, she finished the coffee, and she moved over to the phone that hung on a nearby wall.
She punched in a number, jabbing at the keys like she was imagining jabbing into flesh with those neatly manicured, highly polished nails.
She tapped a naked foot, nails painted the same color as her fingertips, as she pressed the phone to her ear.
After almost thirty seconds, she ended the call, then dialed another phone number.
After two more calls, she finally reached somebody, but judging from the sound of things, she wasn’t going to be talking to her father.
“Son of a bitch is avoiding me,” she announced, dropping the phone back into the cradle. She skewered me with a look like all of this was my fault.
Pointing at me, she said, “Okay, so maybe we’re stuck with each other until I can get a hold of my father. But once I convince him that this whole thing is pointless, then you’re gone.” She pointed toward the front door, her meaning clear.
“Once my boss pulls me off, I’m out of here,” I replied. It was the closest thing to an agreement she’d get from me at that moment.
She seemed to pick up on that, too, huffing out a sigh and turning on her heel. As she strode out of the kitchen, I followed, trying not to notice the intriguing sway of her hips as she stalked away.
After she got a few more steps away, I fell into place behind her.
She stopped in the doorway and turned to face me. “What are you doing?”
“My job.” I was supposed to watch her and keep an eye on her until I was relieved by my evening companion at five.
“I have to go finish getting ready. Do you plan to hover behind me in the bathroom while I put makeup on?” she dared me.
“I’ll wait outside in the hallway.”
She flapped a hand at me. “Can’t you wait down here? Inthishallway?”
My response was still a level look, and she huffed out another annoyed breath.
I could tell she was going to be thrilled to have me around.
And she wasn’t going to be shy about showing her displeasure, either.
As she started up the stairs, my gaze strayed to her ass and lingered.
Then I gave myself a swift mental kick.
I wasn’t here because of her excellent ass. I was there because I was being paid and her dad thought she might be in danger.
Once she reached the second level of the house, she veered right. She didn’t go very far, stopping outside what looked to be a large, well-lit bathroom.
