They love her. Every last one of them.
This was remarkable. And disturbing. The woman had not only attempted to steal my pages, she’d hijacked my staff.
When had this mass love affair developed? She’d only been here a week, for fuck’s sake.
Irritated, I cleared my throat loudly and stepped forward.
All heads turned in my direction, and the ones employed by me snapped to attention. Phoebe jumped up from her chair. “Mr. Bestia. Good evening sir.”
I glowered at the whole unfaithful lot of them. “I assume this raucous gathering means everyone has completed their duties for the day?”
“Oh, I uh, still need to…” Phoebe stammered then looked down at Bonnie and said, “Good night, miss. I’ll see you tomorrow,” before scooting out the other kitchen door.
Simone scurried into the pantry, and Calvin excused himself, muttering something about needing to put away his lawn equipment for the night.
Harrison hurried around the table and approached me. “Is there something I can do for you, sir?”
I rolled my lips inward, trying not to smile at his rattled demeanor.
In spite of my irritation, the terrified look on his face cracked me up. He was acting like a husband who’d been caught in the act with the other woman.
“I’m hungry,” I growled, spreading the scorn on thickly. “I buzzed the kitchen—twice. There was no answer. I think the intercom system might need to be checked.”
Though now that I’d ascertained the decibel level in the kitchen, I suspected the state-of-the-art system was working just fine. My call had simply been drowned out by laughter and conversation.
“I’m so sorry, sir. I’ll have it checked first thing tomorrow,” Harrison said, latching onto the cover story and running with it. “Will that be all, sir?”
I gave him a terse nod, and he fled the room.
Monsieur Laplume, who’d busied himself in the kitchen as soon as I entered, said, “Your dinner will be readytout suite, sir.”
He barked the kitchen maid’s name. “Simone!”
She popped her head out of the pantry. “Chef?”
“Set the table in the dining room for Monsieur Bestia.”
“Yes, chef,” she said, and hustled to the towering wall cabinet where the china was kept.
Addressing them both, I said, “Don’t bother. It’s fine. I’ll eat in here.”
Of course, now that I’d scared everyone else away, only Bonnie was left at the table. I expected her to get up and vacate the room as well. But she didn’t.
She looked calm, comfortable, and… amazing.
Her face was glowing from residual laughter, and she was wearing one of the dresses I’d ordered for her. I bought them because I didn’t want her parading around the house in the same old clothes every day, making it seem like she was in a prison uniform, and I was some kind of cruel warden.
And I’d gotten a variety of styles because I didn’t know what would fit her best.
This one fit well.Verywell.
The deep pink color complimented her complexion, which looked radiant in the glow of the candles on the table. The spaghetti straps left her shoulders and the top of her chest bare, and the thin, silky fabric molded to her perfect breasts.
Damn.Didn’t think aboutthatwhen I was ordering from the boutique. I’d probably have been better off ordering an assortment of caftans that hid her body instead of hugging it.
Not that I’d be having anything todowith that body.
I mean, yes, my mind had gone there when I’d seen her nearly naked at the beach and when I’d held her against me to keep her from getting swept away by the waves.
