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“So…what you’re saying is that we’re sort of dating.”
“No,” he said firmly. “Dating would imply that I took you out somewhere.”
I shrugged as I pulled on the strings. “I wouldn’t say no to some food. I’m starving.”
“You just ate,” he argued.
“Yes, but that was hours ago, and another man was there.”
He considered this for a moment before responding. “I can get you food, but that’s not a date.”
“And why don’t you want to take me out on a date?”
“Because you’re a client.”
He said that a lot, like it was a huge sticking point with him. “And you’ve already slept with me. What does it matter?”
“Because it’s against the rules. I could lose my job.”
“I highly doubt that,” I laughed. “Red was telling me that he married a woman he was protecting.”
“He was protecting her before she was ever really a client. And I don’t think you could really classify it as protecting her.”
“And a guy named Fox is married to an actress that he was obsessed with?”
The strings were getting caught on my thighs. I wasn’t entirely sure I was doing this right. Maybe I had my legs in the wrong spot. I almost fell over, but Eli caught me by the arm, sighing loudly.
“Just sit down. I’ll help you out.”
“Why, thank you,” I grinned. I plopped down on the bed and waited as he tried to find a way to continue to hold up the sheet while also helping me with the underwear. Finally, he gave up and snatched the panties out of my hand. He held them up, staring at the multiple strings that ran across the material. After a minute, he worked out what was supposed to go where and started sliding them up my legs. The problem happened when I stood. My crotch was directly in front of his face, which stopped his hands from doing what they were supposed to.
I grabbed the material and pulled them up the rest of the way, adjusting the multiple straps so it sat properly on my hips. Then I grabbed the bra, which was more of a thin film of fabric, and pulled it over my breasts. It did nothing to hide my nipples, but then again, it was so hot, I wasn’t sure I needed anything.
I spun in a circle, feeling rather girly. “So, what do you think?”
He swallowed hard as he stared at my body. I felt so sexy in this. Kavanaugh had great taste, even if he wasn’t the one I was interested in. Just seeing the desire in Eli’s eyes was enough to make this uncomfortable contraption worth it.
After a minute, he stormed back over to the bed and grabbed the bag, pulling out the dress Kavanaugh picked up for me. I chuckled under my breath when I saw it wasn’t that much better than just standing in the underwear. The material was practically see-through and hung from my shoulders by two thin straps. The front of the dress draped over my breasts, leaving little to the imagination. And on top of that, the dress was cut just a little too high on my thighs.
“You can’t go out in that.”
“It’s better than the sheet.”
“You look like a hooker!” he snapped.
I flinched back, pissed that he would say that. I thought I looked great. I never dressed up, and while I knew the dress wasn’t exactly the most conservative, this was the Caribbean. What did he expect me to wear?
Pissed, I walked back over to the bag and grabbed the strappy sandals Kavanaugh purchased, then slid them on. “Well, I guess I’ll take my hooker self and go find some food.”
“Sarah—”
He grabbed my arm, but I jerked my body away from his. “If I look like such a hooker, maybe you should have paid me the other night,” I snapped.
“You didn’t look like a hooker then.”
I narrowed my eyes at him, but I couldn’t help the overwhelming feelings rushing to my eyeballs. Crap, I was going to cry, and then he really wouldn’t know how to handle me. I started waving my hands in front of my eyes, willing myself not to cry. This was not how I wanted him to see me.
“Uh…what’s going on?” he asked, taking a step back as he looked at me like a rabid dog.
