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I bought water from a vendor, pouring most of it over my head to cool me down and shock me back to reality. Of course, it didn’t work.

My phone buzzed. Looking at the caller ID, I saw Henry’s name on the screen. Fuck. How was I going to look him in the face again?

“Henry.”

“Sebastian. I hear you’re taking good care of my daughter.”

Fuck, fuck, fuck. “Ah…”

“She said you liked her presentation yesterday.”

Leah in her sexy bra and underwear flashed in my brain, but I felt sure that wasn’t the presentation he was referring to. “Yes.”

“I’m so proud of her. You know she could live off my money… hell her great-grandkids could live off my money, but she’s determined to make her own way. I appreciate your helping her with that.”

I swallowed as guilt threatened to have me heaving on the walk path. “She’s smart and capable.”

“That she is. Listen, I was wondering if you’d like to play 18 holes this Saturday?”

“Love to.” I had never played golf until Henry took me out on the links. I’d met Henry at a bereavement group I attended after my wife died. My doctor recommended the group because I was having difficulty managing my mixed emotions over my wife’s death. Yes, I felt sad and grieved for her. But there had also been a sense of relief, and because of that, guilt. I was even more royally fucked up then.

Henry took me under his wing. “Golf requires focus, it will get your mind off things,” he’d told me. “And you can let out your frustrations.”

He’d been right, and over the course of the last four years, we’d played regularly. During our time together, he helped me get my mind and my business on the right path. Chances were my great-grandkids, if I ever had any, would be able to live off my fortune too thanks to Henry’s guidance.

And what had I done? I’d fucked his daughter with one of my company’s dildos on my desk. I was such an asshole.

“Great. Meet you at eight?”

“I’ll be there.”

I clicked off the phone and considered jumping in the pond and drowning myself. Not really, but the thought crossed my mind. I was in a seriously bad place. I wasn’t a perfect man, but I knew I was better than wanting to fuck my best friend’s daughter. I had to hope to hell Leah would take the hint and stay away from me until I could get my shit back in order.

Chapter 6

Leah

I walked out of the elevator onto the thirtieth floor on Wednesday feeling confident and hopeful. I wondered if Sebastian had found my panties in his bathroom yesterday and what his reaction had been. I knew he was unsettled when he left on Monday, but now with a day apart, hopefully he had time to realize that I was an adult making my own choices. It had nothing to do with my father or my career aspirations. And if he was still leery, hopefully I’d have time to bring him around.

I entered the office area for interns and saw a note from Sebastian’s secretary asking to me to check in with her. I set my bag down and then headed to her desk.

As I approached, I saw Sebastian’s door open, but the light was off.

“You wanted to see me?” I asked.

“Yes. Mr. Cox asked that you spend the remainder of your six weeks in the marketing department.”

I frowned. “I already spent time in the marketing department.”

“Yes, well, this time he wants you on the online media side.” She handed me a note. “You’re to check in with Craig, you’ll remember him from when you were there before, but then your contact will be Niall James.”

I looked at the paper in confusion. No not confusion. Anger. Was Sebastian Cox really so afraid of me he’d banish me two floors down? Or was he afraid of himself and his inability to resist me? That idea intrigued me.

“I’ll grab my things and head down.” I looked at his office one more time. “Coward,” I said under my breath.

I went back to the intern office, picked up my bag and then took the elevator down two floors to the marketing department. Whereas Sebastian’s floor was subdued and elegant, the marketing department was filled with bright colors, tons of white boards, rows and rows of computer stations and people not much older than me finding ways to promote Sensual Delight’s products.

“Hey Hammond.” Craig Jensen met me as I entered the area. “Welcome back to the fun house. Boring at the top?”

I laughed to cover my disappointment. “There’s no buying without selling,” I parroted the message he gave me in September when I started my internship at Sensual Delights. I’d been allowed to divide my time between the design team and marketing, which I highly valued, but now I wanted to see how a company was run from the top down, and Sebastian had just taken that away from me. Perhaps it was my fault since I’d seduced him, and I understood that it could cause problems with the board. But still.

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