I smiled. Some time at the cove could help clear my head and calm myjitters.
Just me, the waves, and absolutely no thoughts of my emotionally unavailable boss.
19
MAXIME
Isecured the last of the rope, winding it around my arm. A late tide meant I’d had time to tidy and clean the boat before I fished.
What was the old expression? Idle hands are the devil’s workshop? With my beautiful nanny permanently on my mind, I intended to keep my hands extremely busy and out of mischief for the foreseeable future.
With a grunt, I pulled the boat’s hull over the pebbles, towards the water. Only something caught my attention. I stopped, straining my vision into the light. My fingers curled tight around the hull. It was Chloe. She was walking in my direction with her phone to her ear and a frown on her face.
My breath thinned, catching tight in my throat. Who was she talking to? Why did she look upset? And how could her hair be that shade of red—so vivid it didn’t seem real? The sunlight illuminated her curls,making them resemble tiny beads of amber. Sometimes after a storm, I’d find the little stones washed up on shore.
I’d never been with a redhead before, but that didn’t stopmy thoughts at night. Wondering how soft her hair would feel, draped across my chest … or coiled around my fingers.
I’d struggled to focus on anything else alone, after dark. After our ride back from the cliffs, I’d fallen asleep, reliving the feel of her arms around my waist, her thighsbracketing my hips. The heat of her and the sweet scent of her perfume as the wind whipped around our bodies.
I scowled, looking down at my hands. I had to stop thinking of Chloe like this. But then a cry reached me in the breeze. I turned my head in her direction. She was running towards me, arms outstretched and wide-eyed. My chest lurched at the look of terror on her face. I dropped the rope and ran towards her, too.
By the time I reached her, she practically stumbled into my arms.
“Is it gone?” she asked, looking around wildly, checking her body. Her face was ashen, and her chest heaved against her sundress.
I ran my hands down her arms, then back up, resting them on her shoulders. “Are you alright? Has what gone?”
“The bee,” she said. “You didn’t see it? It was huge. I swear it was chasing after me.”
I shook my head. “Nothing’s out to get you, particularly a dumb insect.”
She shook her head wildly, little pink patches appearing on her cheeks. “Bees aren’t dumb. They’re clever, and organised.”
The corners of my lips nudged up. “I didn’t mean stupid. I meant they can’t talk.”
Chloe pulled her brows tight. “Don’t be so sure. I’ve seen movies—watched documentaries. They communicate with their bums. Something to do with wiggling.”
I tightened my hands on her shoulders, fighting the urge to smile. “Wigglingaside, there’s no bee. I promise.”
She watched me suspiciously.
“I promise,” I repeated. She’d had a similar reaction to the bee in the garden. My heart tugged, and in an act of pure madness, I pulled her closer, kissing her forehead.
The second my lips touched her hot skin; a shot of electricity ran through my body. What the hell was I doing? In what world was it okay for a boss to kiss an employee uninvited? I dropped my hands and met her wide-eyed stare.
“I’m sorry. It’s just you looked so scared. It’s what I would’ve done for Sophie. To comfort her.”
Chloe blinked at me, and something ached below my ribs. She wasn’t family. I paid her wages. What if she told Luc I’d kissed her? With my luck, he’d pull his investment from the club.
“It’s okay,” she whispered, her voice pulling me from my thoughts. “Thank you for caring.”
She sent me the smallest of smiles, and my heart settled into somewhere near its normal rhythm. “What is it with you and bees?”
“I just don’t like them,” she said, heading towards my boat.
“Why?” I asked, turning to follow her.
She shook her head. “I don’t want to say. You’ll think I’m stupid.”
