I’m going over a mental checklist for the dinner when I hear a man’s voice.
“My, my. You’re looking radiant this morning, Hannah.”
I look up and see Luke—Mr. Wolfe—coming down the stairs. If possible, he looks even more handsome this morning than yesterday. I wait, checking to see if there’s any hint of a reaction from my girl parts. Nope. Nothing. Why can’t I want this man instead of the one I can’t have? I give him my professional smile—impersonal, close-lipped, no teeth.
“Good morning, Mr. Wolfe,” I say. “I hope you’re enjoying your stay so far.”
Instead of turning toward the dining room where breakfast is still being served, he makes his way over to the desk.
“So very professional,” he muses, leaning on the desk.
“This is my job,” I tell him.
He nods. “True.”
“Breakfast is served until 10, Mr. Wolfe,” I say, pointing toward the dining room.
“What do you recommend?”
“Our chef makes the best French toast you’ve ever tasted,” I tell him.
His eyes narrow. “Something hot and sweet might be just what I’m craving,” he says in that low, bedroom voice.
I curse whatever insane part of me is resistant to this man’s charms, because damn. He’s sexy. And he’s working extra hard to get a reaction from me. I feel a hint of boldness in me and decide to mess with Luke for a moment. It’s not something I’d do if I thought he was taking any of this seriously. It’s clearly a game to him. Why not play along? Just for a second. I soften my gaze, letting my professional mask slip just a bit. I give him a genuine smile and lean in toward him. My voice is just above a whisper when I speak.
“Ask for the whipped cream on top.”
His grin is immediate and the smolder in his eyes is something that should be illegal in public. Why can’t I feel a hint of desire for this man? He’s gorgeous, playful and clearly interested in me, even if it’s just for a quick fling. But much as I’d like to want him, I just don’t. Maybe something is wrong with me.
“Can I have that sent to my room?” he asks in that same low voice.
I lean back and don my professional mask once more.
“Of course, Mr. Wolfe,” I say. “Room service is complementary until 9pm.”
His eyes narrow and he shakes his head. “I think I’ll eat in the dining room this morning.”
“Enjoy your meal, Mr. Wolfe.”
He tips his head once in a nod before turning toward the dining room and leaving. I sigh and shake my head after he’s gone. I probably shouldn’t have teased him that way.
“Flirting with guests isn’t very professional.”
I turn to see Finn standing behind me. I wonder how long he’s been there and how much he witnessed of my exchange with Luke. My face goes hot and I know I’m blushing. His face is an impassive mask, but his eyes look furious. I open my mouth to defend myself, not knowing what I plan to say. I have no real defense. But Finn speaks before I can. His voice is cold and hard—something I’ve never heard from him.
“I’d think you would have learned your lesson about letting yourself get swept away by handsome strangers.”
I recoil as though he slapped me. Now I feel the heat of anger sweep over me, pushing aside the embarrassment. Who the hell does he think he is? I speak before I can get ahold of my anger, before I consider what I’m about to say.
“Screw you, Finn,” I say through gritted teeth. “You have no right to judge me.”
“As your boss,” he says, folding his arms over his chest, “I have every right to comment on your unprofessional behavior.”
Part of me knows he’s right, but his comment had been a deliberate reference to my ex. Finn had known his words would hurt me and he’d said them anyway.
“If your concern is professional, I’d appreciate it if you’d leave my personal life out of it. Sir.” If he wants to play the boss card, so be it. “If you’ll excuse me, I have work in my office.”
He says nothing as I push past him. I go directly to my office and close the door. It isn’t until I’m sitting in the chair that I realize my hands are shaking. My eyes fill with tears, but they don’t spill over. I take a shaky breath and let it out. I don’t know who I’m angrier with. Myself, for playing along with Luke’s flirting or Finn for being a total dick about it? Finn, I decide. Definitely Finn.
What gives him the right to talk to me that way? Yes, he’s my boss. But if he had a problem with my professionalism as he’d said, he should have reprimanded me in private. And he should never have brought up my past. He’d acted like a jealous boyfriend. Which is absolutely ridiculous. I sigh and rub my temples where a headache is forming. When had my life become so complicated?
Chapter Eight
Finn
It’s official. I’m an asshole. I keep seeing Hannah’s stricken look as the words left my mouth. It’s a punch in the gut each time. I regretted the words almost as soon as I said them. I don’t know what made me say them. That’s not true. I know exactly why I said it. After yesterday’s conversation with Wyatt, I told myself he was wrong. But when I saw that grinning idiot leering at Hannah, I felt a surge of anger. I can finally admit to myself that I was jealous. Which is stupid since I know Hannah is off-limits. I know I need to find her and apologize for my behavior, but I’m
