Page 39 of Covert

“Could you pass me that document?” Dylan pointed at the pile of papers to her left while studying the invoice in his hand.

“So much for the magical P word,” she muttered, resisting the urge to throw the paper at him.

“Don’t be childish.” He glared at her as if she’d uttered an obscenity.

She quirked an eyebrow. “Since when are manners considered childish?”

He ignored her and returned to studying the document, while her temper rose several notches. She’d tolerated his barked commands and surly attitude all day, knowing she could only take so much.

Though he’d been demanding over the past few months, he’d never been rude, and she wondered if his churlish display today was designed to push her away.

If so, he was doing a fine job of it.

She took a calming breath and returned to adding the column of figures she’d been working on, wishing her life was as easy to compute.

“By the way, we’re leaving as soon as we’ve finished this pile.”

She looked up in time to find him staring at her with the oddest expression—a bewildering mix of confusion, regret, lust, hope—before he quickly returned to the paper in his hand.

“Thanks for the notice,” she said, wondering what had happened to the easy-going camaraderie they shared before last night.

Rather than bringing them closer as she’d anticipated, their interlude had widened the gap between them to massive proportions.

“I’m not in the mood, Samantha.”

That did it. She’d had enough of his condescending tone and all-round bad attitude for one day.

Standing, she slammed the completed spreadsheet on the table in front of him, and stalked toward the door, only pausing when she reached it.

“Pity you didn’t say the same last night when I came onto you. Would’ve saved us your immature performance today.”

Shocked, he gaped, but she didn’t give him a chance to reply.

“I’ll meet you out the front in fifteen minutes,” she said, hoping her voice wouldn’t quaver. “After all, ourbusinesshere is finished.”

She walked away, head held high, while for the second time in as many days, Sam fought a useless battle against tears as she silently cursed the man who had turned her world upside down.

29

On their return to Melbourne, Dylan stalked into his room and flung his bag onto the floor, wondering how he’d managed to make such a mess of things.

Rather than a sojourn at Budgeree opening the door to a deeper relationship with Sam, the time they spent there had well and truly slammed it shut.

He’d acted like a jerk today, saying the wrong things and behaving like an ass, when what he really wanted to do was drag her back to his bed and have wild, passionate sex with her all day long.

He couldn’t get the image of her water-slicked body out of his mind, or the way she abandoned any pretence at shyness this morning and joined in their heated session in the shower, watching their erotic reflection in the mirror the entire time.

He’d never experienced anything like it before—correction, he’d never experienced the feelings that sex with Sam elicited, before.

What had he done about it? Pushed her away in the coldest way possible, not daring to believe he’d been foolish enough to fall in love with her.

He didn’t have room in his life for love, a useless emotion that complicated simple relationships and turned them into dependent affairs fraught with responsibilities.

If anyone should know, he should.

Look at what had happened with his dad.

A knock interrupted his thoughts. “Can I come in, Son?”

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