be the one with the cookie-cutter genetics that stamped out cousins who could ride each other’s passports. To see so much of Theo in his nephew threw her for a loop and she was already in a tailspin at seeing the man himself.
One glimpse of the sky pilot with his broody expression behind mirrored aviators and she’d turned into a lovestruck schoolgirl again. Never mind that she’d spent the past year and a half taking on responsibilities she’d never dreamed herself capable of shouldering. Men had been completely off her radar, given her being needed so much at home. She’d shut down thoughts of a future with Theo when he had neglected to return her few calls. She hadn’t felt sexy and romantic anyway. She’d been tired and grief-stricken and determined to continue her career for the sake of her pride.
Finally, in the past few months, things had begun to settle into a routine. She’d felt good, if wistful, at the way things had turned out. She was empowered and in control: the independent, worldly, modern woman she’d always longed to be.
And yet she’d leaped to respond to Theo’s text and had grown breathless watching his athletic frame tether his helicopter. Her eyes kept stealing glances at his leather bomber jacket and black jeans that were old enough to be scuffed gray in all the right places, accenting the muscles of his thighs. He was tough and aloof and as quietly commanding as always, framing his demands with that polite, I need . I need a file, I need lunch at one, I need you, Jaya. I need you to care for my babies.
Her heart lurched.
“I need to think,” she mumbled, even though this situation was beyond comprehension. Her mind was going a mile a minute, trying to figure out what to do. Where was Saranya when she needed her cousin’s sensible advice? Why did life have to keep throwing such hard curves in front of her?
No time for a pity party, she reminded herself as Oscar turned into the underground parking garage and stopped next to the elevators.
They’d arrived at Theo’s discreet accommodation. She hadn’t known what to think of that text, but she hadn’t been able to ignore it. You didn’t slam doors in this business no matter how badly you wanted to. He was right about her interest in her professional development. She had plans and one affair eighteen months ago wouldn’t derail them—no matter how life-altering the consequences had turned out to be.
Besides , she had told herself when the text had popped up, he was probably making the request on behalf of a favored guest . When she’d climbed into the limo, she’d told herself not to expect Theo at the private airstrip. She’d braced herself for a mistress.
Talk about special guests who needed personal attention!
As they rode up the elevator, she sent him yet another glance of exasperation. They each carried a child. He had the bag of minimal groceries in his hand and was looking at her. His narrowed brown eyes sent a prickle of heat into her center.
No. They weren’t starting that again. She’d learned her lesson, thanks. Looking away was like ripping off a bandage, but she mentally scoffed, Think of the children.
Although, when it came to advancing your career through favors for influential guests, he was right that they didn’t come bigger than this. Managing this gorgeous hotel on the Mediterranean coast was fun and fulfilling, but if she pulled off keeping both the Marcussen Media and Makricosta Resort heirs off the paparazzi radar, she’d have it made in the shade. Paris, London, New York... She could name her price.
As they entered her hotel’s best suite, she automatically searched for flaws that needed correction, but the eclectic mix of 1960s reproduction furniture, pop art, and ultra-modern amenities awaited judgment with quiet perfection. Where many of France’s oldest hotels were rabbit warrens of tiny rooms with even tinier beds, this one had been upgraded into chic suites of fewer rooms that catered
One glimpse of the sky pilot with his broody expression behind mirrored aviators and she’d turned into a lovestruck schoolgirl again. Never mind that she’d spent the past year and a half taking on responsibilities she’d never dreamed herself capable of shouldering. Men had been completely off her radar, given her being needed so much at home. She’d shut down thoughts of a future with Theo when he had neglected to return her few calls. She hadn’t felt sexy and romantic anyway. She’d been tired and grief-stricken and determined to continue her career for the sake of her pride.
Finally, in the past few months, things had begun to settle into a routine. She’d felt good, if wistful, at the way things had turned out. She was empowered and in control: the independent, worldly, modern woman she’d always longed to be.
And yet she’d leaped to respond to Theo’s text and had grown breathless watching his athletic frame tether his helicopter. Her eyes kept stealing glances at his leather bomber jacket and black jeans that were old enough to be scuffed gray in all the right places, accenting the muscles of his thighs. He was tough and aloof and as quietly commanding as always, framing his demands with that polite, I need . I need a file, I need lunch at one, I need you, Jaya. I need you to care for my babies.
Her heart lurched.
“I need to think,” she mumbled, even though this situation was beyond comprehension. Her mind was going a mile a minute, trying to figure out what to do. Where was Saranya when she needed her cousin’s sensible advice? Why did life have to keep throwing such hard curves in front of her?
No time for a pity party, she reminded herself as Oscar turned into the underground parking garage and stopped next to the elevators.
They’d arrived at Theo’s discreet accommodation. She hadn’t known what to think of that text, but she hadn’t been able to ignore it. You didn’t slam doors in this business no matter how badly you wanted to. He was right about her interest in her professional development. She had plans and one affair eighteen months ago wouldn’t derail them—no matter how life-altering the consequences had turned out to be.
Besides , she had told herself when the text had popped up, he was probably making the request on behalf of a favored guest . When she’d climbed into the limo, she’d told herself not to expect Theo at the private airstrip. She’d braced herself for a mistress.
Talk about special guests who needed personal attention!
As they rode up the elevator, she sent him yet another glance of exasperation. They each carried a child. He had the bag of minimal groceries in his hand and was looking at her. His narrowed brown eyes sent a prickle of heat into her center.
No. They weren’t starting that again. She’d learned her lesson, thanks. Looking away was like ripping off a bandage, but she mentally scoffed, Think of the children.
Although, when it came to advancing your career through favors for influential guests, he was right that they didn’t come bigger than this. Managing this gorgeous hotel on the Mediterranean coast was fun and fulfilling, but if she pulled off keeping both the Marcussen Media and Makricosta Resort heirs off the paparazzi radar, she’d have it made in the shade. Paris, London, New York... She could name her price.
As they entered her hotel’s best suite, she automatically searched for flaws that needed correction, but the eclectic mix of 1960s reproduction furniture, pop art, and ultra-modern amenities awaited judgment with quiet perfection. Where many of France’s oldest hotels were rabbit warrens of tiny rooms with even tinier beds, this one had been upgraded into chic suites of fewer rooms that catered
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