Soph thought he found her at least a little intriguing.
His eyes widened and he stepped abruptly away from her. Soph backed towards the door. She had to put distance between them before the Gremlin of Temptation struck and she said something terribly inappropriate. Like, Grey, I really notice you as a man even though I’ve decided it’s not a good idea to do so, and it’s clear you’re appalled that you’ve noticed me.
Instead, Soph went for the most prosaic words she could come up with. ‘Will you come into the kitchen? I’ll tape a bag over your cast so it doesn’t get damaged if you accidentally splash it while you’re bathing.’ She blocked her mind to all thoughts of her employer in the bathtub!
‘I’ll cope without a bag on the arm.’ He just said so instantly, unequivocally, and turned away.
Soph didn’t feel the least disappointed in this further example of his resistance to her care. The attraction side of it was irrelevant, of course. Hmph. But what could she do if he wouldn’t accept her help?
‘I’ll get on with dinner, then. I still have a side dish to prepare to go with the curry.’ She turned her back, busied herself in the kitchen and didn’t look around again until she heard water running upstairs. At least she had the healthy food aspect well in hand.
Soph donned protective mitts and drew the casserole out of the oven, removed the lid, then discarded the mitts and gave the contents of the dish a vigorous stir.
She and her employer just had some random chemical reaction going on between them. No doubt it would go away through lack of a receptive audience. On either side!
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