inside might have been “Come in.” She couldn’t be sure and she had come this far, so she used her card and—
“I said, Not now,” he stated from a reclined position on the sofa, shirt sleeves rolled up and one bare forearm over his eyes. In the other hand he held a drink. His jaw was stubbled, his clothes wrinkled. Papers and file folders were strewn messily across the coffee table and fanned in a wide scatter across the floor, as though he’d thrust them away in an uncharacteristic fit. His precious laptop was cocked on its side next to the table, open but dark. Broken?
Blinking at the mess, Jaya told herself to back out. Men in a temper could be dangerous. She knew that.
But there was something so distraught in his body language, in the air even. She immediately hurt for him and she didn’t know why.
“Did something happen?” she queried with subdued shock.
“Jaya?” His feet rose in surprise. At the same time he lifted his arm off his eyes. “Did I call you?” Spinning his feet to the floor in a startling snap to attention, he picked up his phone and thumbed across the screen. “I was trying not to.”
The apology sounded odd, but sometimes English phrasing sounded funny to her, with its foreign syntax and slang. How could you try not to call someone?
“I don’t mind finding whatever paperwork you need,” she murmured, compelled to rescue the laptop and hearing the door pull itself closed behind her. “Especially if you’re dismayed about the way something was handled.”
“Dismayed. Yeah, that’s what I am.” He pressed his mouth flat for a moment, elbows braced on his wide-spread thighs. His focus moved through her to a place far in the distance. With a little shudder, he skimmed his hands up to ruffle his hair before staring at her with heartrending bleakness. “You’ve caught me at a bad time.”
For some reason her mouth went dry. She didn’t react to men, especially the dark, powerfully built, good-looking ones. Theo was all of those things, his complexion not as dark as her countrymen, but he had Greek swarthiness and dark brown hair and brows. With his short hair on end, he looked younger than his near thirty. For a second, he reminded her of the poorest children in India, the ones old enough to have lost hope.
Her hand twitched to smooth his disheveled hair, instinctively aware he wouldn’t like anyone seeing him at less than his most buttoned-down.
He was still incredible. His stubbled jaw was just wide enough to evenly frame his gravely drawn mouth while his cheekbones stood out in a way that hollowed his cheeks. His brows were winged, not too thick, lending a striking intelligence to his keen brown eyes.
They seemed to expand as she looked into them. The world around her receded....
“We’ll do this tomorrow. Now’s not a good time.” The quiet words carried a husky edge that caused a shiver of something visceral to brush over her.
She didn’t understand her reaction, certainly didn’t know why she was unable to stop staring into his eyes even when a flush of heat washed through her.
“I can’t take advantage of your work ethic,” he added. “It could undermine our employer-employee relationship.”
Appalled, she jerked her gaze to the floor, blushing anew as she processed that she’d been in the throes of a moment and hadn’t even properly recognized it as one until her mooning became so obvious he had to shut her down.
How? In the past few years, any sort of sexual aggression on a man’s part had stopped her heart. Terror was her reaction and escape her primary instinct. Wistful thoughts like, I wonder how his stubble would feel against my lips, had never happened to her, but for a few seconds she’d gone completely dreamy.
Her body flamed like it was on fire, but not only from mortification. There was something else, a curiosity she barely remembered from a million years ago when she’d been a girl talking to a nice boy at school.
If she had the smarts she always claimed to, she’d let his remark stand. She’d excuse herself to Marseille and never be seen again.
At the same time, as discomfited as she was, her ability to have a moment was so heartening she couldn’t help standing in place like someone testing cold waters, trying to decide whether to wade farther in.
Not that she’d come here for that. No, she wanted to say goodbye and he’d given her an opening.
“Actually, we don’t have that kind of relationship anymore.” With jerky movements she set his laptop on the coffee table and pressed the lid closed. “Today was my last day. I should have changed, but I’m having trouble letting go.”
He sat back, hands on his knees, taken aback. “Why wasn’t I informed? If you’re moving to the competition, we’ll match whatever they’re offering.”
“That’s not it.” She sank onto the seat opposite him and grasped her hands together so she could portray more composure than she actually possessed. Emotions rose as she realized this was it, no more uniform, no more career with the Makricosta hotel chain, no more Theo. Her voice grew husky. “You—I—I mean the company—have been so good with training me and offering certifications. I would never throw that in your face and run to the competition.”
“We believe in investing in our employees.”
“I know, but I never dreamed I could go from chambermaid to the front desk in that kind of time, let alone manage the department.” She remembered how frightened she’d been of getting in trouble for leaving her cleaning duties when she’d brought a lost little boy to the office, hovering to translate until his parents were located. Theo happened to be conducting one of his audits and was impressed by her mastery of four languages and ability to keep a little one calm.
“My confidence was at a low when I began working here,” she confessed with a tough smile. “If you hadn’t asked me if I planned to apply for the night clerk job I wouldn’t have thought I’d even be considered. I’m really grateful you did that.”
There. She’d said what she had wanted to say.
“My sister would disown me if I turned into a sexist,” he dismissed, but his gaze went to his phone. His despondency returned to hover in the room like a cloud off dry ice. She sensed that whatever news was affecting him, Adara Makricosta had delivered it.
“Where are you going, if not two doors down?” he asked abruptly.
She lifted her gaze off the strong hands massaging his knees. He wasn’t as collected as he was trying to appear. For some reason, she wanted to take those hands and hold them still and say, It’ll be okay. You’d be surprised what a person can endure.
“France,” she replied, not wanting to talk about her situation, especially when it appeared he was only looking for distraction from his own troubles. “Marseille. It’s a family thing. Very sudden. I’m sorry.” She wasn’t sure why she tacked on the apology. Habits of a woman, she supposed, but she was sorry. Sorry that she had to leave this job, sorry she was inconveniencing him, sorry that her cousin was dying.
She felt her mouth pulling down at the corners and ducked her head.
“You’re not getting married, are you? This isn’t one of those arranged things?” He sounded so aghast she had to smile. Westerners could be so judgmental, like all his relationships
