Page 68 of Fifth Avenue Fling

My hackles instantly rise as I glance between Clodagh and Sam, who is casually propped against her refrigerator.

He straightens up, eyeing me sheepishly. “Boss.”

“I told you no men in the house,” I say frostily to Clodagh.

She stares up at me as if I’m deranged. “It’s Sam.”

“I know who he is.”

“He’s vetted. He’syour staff.”

My jaw tightens. Just because Clodagh caught me in a compromising position doesn’t mean she can talk back to me.

And maybe the idea of Sam being in her studio doesn’t sit well with me. “I told you not to distract my security, Clodagh. What are you doing here, Sam?”

Hurt blazes across her features.

“I was just getting rid of a spider for Clodagh,” Sam says, his intentions written all over his face.

“They’re huge in New York,” Clodagh adds defensively. “Gigantic spiders. They must be coming over from Central Park. I have a phobia because one time, in Ireland, I woke up to use the bathroom, and when I came back to bed, there was a spider on my pillow.”

I give Sam a hard look, ignoring Clodagh. “I don’t employ you to be an arachnid assailant for damsels in distress,” I say sarcastically. “I employ you to be my daughter’s security.”

“Yes, boss,” he mumbles.

“Teagan’s at school.” She glowers at me. “I think you’re overreacting.”

Is she deliberately trying to get a rise out of me?

“Go home, Sam,” I grit out as I yank open the door a bit wider. “Clodagh. Upstairs. Now.”

Her cheeks flush pink, but she nods and silently follows me up the stairs.

***

“What were you playing at?” I demand quietly as soon as she takes a seat in the lounge. Her legs cross at the ankles, her hands folded on her lap, and she sits up straight as if trying to find the most reverent position to appease me.

Her face falls in confusion. “What do you mean?”

“I don’t expect to find my staff hiding in the bathwhileI’m taking a shower,” I snap, picturing her small perky breasts in the bath. “If I wanted a voyeuristic nanny, I would have put it in the job listing.”

Her eyes widen in horror. “What? Seriously? All I wanted was a relaxing bath.”

“You have a bath in your own studio.”

“It doesn’t have all the different jet settings,” she huffs, crossing her arms over her chest. “I wasn’t planning on watching you! You shouldn’t even have been home at that time.”

“I can’t come home and take a shower in my own house?”

She hums in annoyance. “I didn’t expect you there. That’s all I’m saying.” She sinks farther into her seat. “I’m sorry I didn’t speak up when you came in. I just froze.”

“You should have told me you were there. You shouldn’t have allowed me to…” I run a hand over my jaw, recalling how turned on I was. “To do what I did.”

Her face turns bright red, and she looks away from me. The blatant reminder of what I did in front of her, of how hard I came in front of her.Becauseof her.

But it’s the last time. Thisneedstoendnow. I heave a sigh. “Even if I thought I was alone, I shouldn’t have acted on my impulses. It was undeniably wrong of me—I understand if you don’t feel comfortable here anymore and want to resign. Just know that you are safe.”

That would be the best course of action. If she quits, Marcus can hire a sensible replacement, one who won’t make my blood run hot.

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