“Are you following me?” I was so angry I almost choked on my words.
“I could ask you the same question, since I was here first.” Mystery Guy cocked a brow and moved closer until he stood mere inches from my face. From this distance, or lack thereof, I could take in each and every detail of his face. His luscious lips were slightly curved in the most arrogant smile I had ever seen. Almost hidden by his day-old stubble were two tiny indentations in his cheeks, which I knew could turn into full-blown dimples. Dimples were my weakness. My fingers itched to reach up and touch them, touch his skin, feel his stubble to see whether it was as deliciously scratchy as it looked. His beautiful green eyes shimmered. His lips parted slightly, and I knew he could either sense my naughty thoughts or had some of his own. Maybe he remembered something I didn’t about our night together. My cheeks were on fire.
Swallowing hard, I looked down his delicious body and instantly regretted it. His shirt stretched over broad shoulders, leaving no doubt that the guy worked out. A lot. A dark patch of curly hair peeked from beneath his undone top button. It was the same color as his happy trail I had glimpsed when he didn’t bother to cover up in my bed.
In my bed.
God, I liked the sound of that. My cheeks flushed again as I cringed inwardly at my thoughts. What was wrong with me? The guy had trouble written all over him, and yet I behaved like a pubescent teen in heat, unable to control my own hormones. I had to find my wits, or what was left of them, before the guy’s ego grew bigger than the Eiffel Tower.
“What are you doing here?” I asked bending down to pick up my handbag from the floor. His gaze followed my ass and stayed glued to it a bit too long. I hurried to straighten up but not fast enough. A low, appreciative growl escaped his throat.
“Looking at my favorite spot. Need help with that?” He pointed in the direction of my heavy suitcase, but his gaze remained glued to my ass. My clothes seemed to evaporate into thin air. I fought the urge to shrug into my coat and keep it on for the rest of our unsolicited conversation.
“I’ll be just fine, thanks.” Irritated, I turned to face him, which in turn forced his gaze away from my ass and back to my face. A glint of disappointment appeared in his expression, as though, unlike my ass, my face wasn’t quite worth his time. I crossed my arms over my chest and regarded him coolly. “What was your excuse again for breaking into my room?”
“I’m staying here.”
I smirked. “Unless Mayfield invited you over for the ride, and he’s a stingy SOB, I don’t think that’s the case.”
He laughed. His voice sounded like satin silk caressing my skin, velvety soft yet luxurious. I shuddered lightly.
He’s bad news, Stewart, I reminded myself.
“I’ll try not to be offended this time, but for future reference, my employees don’t usually talk to me like that.” His lips remained curled into that gorgeous, lopsided smile, which made it hard to focus on anything else. It took me a few seconds to realize the meaning of his words. We were in a different country at the same time. I was supposed to meet my new boss, whom I had just called a stingy SOB, and Mystery Guy felt offended.
“You’re Mayfield, aren’t you?” My voice came low and hoarse. He nodded slowly, staring at me. “But you said your name was Jett Townsend.”
He nodded again. “Townsend was my mother’s name. I like to use it when I meet potential employees. It makes the whole recruitment process easier and, let’s say, refreshing.”
All heat drained from my face. Holy shit. I hadn’t even started my new job and already I was insulting my new boss…right after sleeping with him. I was worse than Sylvie. “So you’re—”
My speech eluded me.
“Jett Mayfield, the stingy SOB who just hired you.” He held out his palm. I didn’t want to touch him but what choice did I have? I placed my hand into his and flinched at how deliciously warm and manly his touch felt. His calloused palm scratched my skin, sending an electric jolt into my lower body. I wondered how it would feel to have Jett Mayfield’s hands stroking the inside of my thighs.
Get a grip, Stewart. After this stunt you’re lucky if you still have a job. Let’s keep it at that.
“I’m so sorry,” I said pulling my hand away and jumping a step back to put some much needed distance between us. “I didn’t know who you were. Usually, I’m way more professional. I take my job very seriously and know my place.”
“I hope you do because I have great plans with you.”