Chapter 8
8
D ylan sighed in resignation as he straightened his tie.
Though he’d been looking forward to catching up with the Taylor’s, the planned dinner had lost its appeal when he realised it would keep him away from the office for the evening.
He hadn’t felt so alive in years, ploughing through reams of work all day and into the evenings, relishing the sense of achievement, with Sam by his side…
An unwelcome thought insinuated its way into his brain and he wondered if his renewed enthusiasm for the job had anything to do with actual work or everything to do with his stunning personal assistant.
He shook his head, trying to dislodge her image and his disturbing thoughts. So what if she’d been by his side, working into those long nights? He’d barely had time to notice her, he’d been so hell-bent on putting the finishing touches on a contract to acquire more land in northern Victoria.
He hadn’t registered the slim ankles, the trim waist, the curve of her breasts, the lightly glossed mouth… He groaned, wrenching his wayward thoughts away from her glorious pout and what she could do with it—to him.
He couldn’t believe he’d been so stupid, insisting she ditch the uniform. At least he’d managed to keep his mind somewhat on the job when her lithe body had been encased in boring navy. Now, with the array of suits she wore each day, his imagination took flight, wondering what a stray button undone or removing a lacy camisole would reveal.
Though she didn’t dress provocatively, he wished he’d kept his big mouth shut. And now he’d invited her on a night out, who knew what outfit she’d produce to add to his sleepless nights?
Another strange phenomenon; since Sam had entered his life, his ability to sleep through the loudest thunderstorm had mysteriously vanished. Instead, night after night, her image filled his head in an erotic kaleidoscope, making slumber impossible. He hadn’t had such vivid dreams since his teenage years, and it rattled him.
He shouldn’t be having those thoughts about Sam. Damn it, she was his employee, and a valuable one at that. He couldn’t bear the thought of losing her so early in her contract. He’d have to keep his libido under control.
A loud knock interrupted his musings, and for a second he wished it were Sam, back in her role as butler. Thankfully, he’d had the sense to change that little arrangement—the thought of facing her in his bedroom like he had the first day sent his self-control spiralling downhill.
He may be strong-willed, but he wasn’t a saint.
“Come in.”
His mother stuck her head around the door. “Ready, darling? The Taylor’s have arrived.”
He nodded and followed her out. “Remember what I said, Mum. No match-making.”
He didn’t like his mother’s sly grin. “I wouldn’t dream of it.”