Chapter 11
11
D ylan shouldn’t have kissed Sam.
Apart from being unprofessional, irrational, and inexplicable, it made sleep impossible for the next week.
Every time he closed his eyes, her provocative image danced before him, faded denim hugging her lean legs and some sort of short top that should be banned barely skimming her flat, tanned midriff.
The moment he’d seen her standing next to Monique he’d had a hard time tearing his gaze away from that bared expanse of flesh that beckoned to be touched.
So what had he done? Made up some lame excuse about needing to see her and barged into her room, manhandling her in the process. Not one of his smarter moves.
Then again, nothing he’d done since Sam entered his life made much sense. He’d never needed a personal assistant before, yet she’d insinuated her way into his business, becoming indispensable.
Hell, he hardly made a move these days without asking her opinion.
Since when did he need anyone’s help? He’d run the family business with little assistance from anybody for years and done a damn fine job. He knew his dad would’ve been proud, but it didn’t ease the burden, the endless drive, of proving he was the man of the family.
From an early age, his father had drummed the ideals of loyalty, responsibility, and family obligation into him, and he hadn’t forgotten a single lesson. He’d spent most of his life living up to his dad’s values and hadn’t regretted a single moment.
Until now.
Somehow, Sam’s presence in his life had opened a void he didn’t know existed. Though he couldn’t put his finger on it, she made him feel ancient, like he’d lived a lifetime yet had nothing to show for it. Stupid, considering he owned one of the largest tracts of land in Australia.
He’d apologised for his unprofessionalism the morning after that kiss and she’d accepted it with aplomb. By her embarrassed blush, she’d wanted to forget it happened as much as he did.
They’d stuck to a strict work schedule since, most of their duties conducted in silence. It hadn’t been uncomfortable, per se, but two people hellbent on forgetting their slip up.
As for tonight and that tour of Melbourne he promised her, he couldn’t renege no matter how much he wanted to.
Yet another value his father had drilled into him: always honour your obligations.
Shaking his head, he shrugged into his jacket and headed for the door. Though he didn’t want to conduct this personalised tour, he had no choice. By his warped sense of duty, he owed her.
His dad would be proud.
Dylan always paid his dues.