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Lake Buckley was a true vision of peace. The water was still, allowing birds to dive down out of trees and skirt across the top of the surface to drink. Reeds and other water plants billowed in the gentle breeze that swept through the trees surrounding the cottages, and I turned my head into it, tucking my head behind my ear.
If this was place was so peaceful, why did I feel so unsettled?
Ever since I’d pulled the car over half an hour ago to fix Theodore’s tie for him, it’d felt like I had an itch I couldn’t scratch—like when you get one on the awkward part of your back that you can’t reach no matter how you contort yourself.
All I’d done was fix his tie.
I’d done that tons of times and never felt a bloody thing, so why was I restless now? Sure, okay, our faces had been closer than usual because we were in the car, but I didn’t really like his face.
I regularly fantasised about smacking it with something solid, after all.
It wasn’t even as though his expression had been any different, either. His face had been as cool and calm as it always was during work hours, and there hadn’t been the slightest hint of acknowledgement of our closeness in his eyes.
Maybe that was it.
It was his eyes.
Those stupid grey-blue eyes that seemed to shimmer with silver when the light hit them exactly right. I didn’t make a habit of looking too closely into my boss’ eyes, so in that tight space with the early morning rays of sun creeping through the window to glint off his eyes, it’d shaken me a bit.
Yeah.
That had to be it.
I was a sucker for a pretty face, after all, and Theodore Black did have one of the prettiest faces around.
Even if it irritated the crap out of me when he opened his mouth.
It was just the moment and the cramped space in the front of the car. I refused to believe it was anything else, because I couldn’t take the idea that my heart could pitter-patter for that bastard.
Just because he was being nice to me now didn’t erase months of cold, demanding bullshit. It certainly didn’t erase the fact that he’d held me and my resignation hostage for the last month.
I’d seen different sides to him already in just one weekend. Living with someone would do that, especially when your roommate was someone you’d known for a long time. I was already quickly realising that while I knew Theodore Black, I didn’t actuallyknowhim.
I knew Vice-President of Black Ink Corporation and heir to the dukedom of Ruxleigh, Theodore Black.
I didn’t know just Theodore.
Was he having the same thoughts about me? He didn’t know me like that, either. He knew executive assistant Chloe St. James, not just Chloe. That’d been evident when he’d been surprised at my snack choices.
For a man who could recite the lunch orders of his entire secretarial team, I was surprised he hadn’t realised that I never ate anything overly sweet.
Of course, this all posed the issue of wanting to get to know him or not. Embarking on such a journey seemed like a dangerous thing to do—but did I even have a choice? It wasn’t as though I could hole up away from him for the next six weeks and not speak to him outside of work at all.
Maybe I should have asked to stay somewhere else. Sure, living together was more efficient, but if my heart was going to do a little jig every time this git asked me to do his tie for him, I wasn’t sure I could cope.
It wasn’t like I had any control over who I was attracted to.
It was easier being out here by the lake. Right now, he was the version of him I knew best—the one in the office who was cold and calculating, who didn’t let a single thing pass him by. We’d only been here forty minutes and he’d already noticed two issues in the plan that needed immediate revisions.
The unrelenting, bossy side of him was what I was used to.
If only this uneasiness inside me would settle down.
Maybe going back to London for Aunt Fizz’s birthday party would be a good idea after all, even if it meant flying down rather than driving. It wouldn’t be too expensive, either. If I was this weirded out after only a few days, God only knew how I’d feel after a few weeks.
I followed a few steps behind the group consisting of Theodore; Pete Andrews, the owner; and his eldest son, Ryan. I didn’t know anything about building or renovating, so all I did was take notes of their conversation on my tablet and enjoy the scenery.
The cottages really were something else. Even though they needed renovation, it was mostly inside, and mostly to bring them up to regulation to save having to redo it all a few years down the line.
